“What do I want for the rest of my life?”
I’ve asked myself this question dozens, perhaps hundreds of times for the last 49 years and 364 days. Today started at 3:30 AM Pacific Time with that very question.
But this day was my birthday—another year older (actually, just a day older but who’s counting?).
Most people see aging as a diminishment of “who they were” rather than an unfolding of who they are yet to become. Candidly, I’ve been one of these “most people” at times (I think it started at about forty-nine and a half).
I have lot of diminishments—I sure can’t run as fast as I used to. I can’t do a powerlifting squat worth a damn anymore. I jump about as high as I did in my early teens and it sucks when it comes to sports. To make it worse, as an athlete “the older I get, the better I was” memories make it harder to accept I won’t be turning “pro” anytime soon at anything in sports. Most nights, I have to “try” to sleep, and I take longer to wake-up, warm-up, and put-up than I used to. I have to “think” to remember facts I could recall in nanoseconds in my thirties. The “remind myself” lists now fill a page almost daily. Read the full blog…