It seems funny to include this in my alphabet of joy, since it’s one of the things almost no one seems to appreciate at the right time. When we’re young we want to be older and when we’re older we want to be young again. It doesn’t help that when we are children we are constantly told we’re not old enough to see or do something and when we are grown up we are surrounded by the complications of life and wish to return to the age where we could please people simply by sleeping and eating (you know, babies).
Age is such a plastic concept though – I have known people that were young at heart until they died in their nineties. I’ve known others that give the impression that they have been old since the day they were born. But I think that even saying that we sometimes are letting the concepts of young and old weigh too heavily on our minds. All too often we are told to act our age when we are having fun. This can be said at almost any age, but it isn’t always used to apply to immaturity as much as to lightheartedness. I think it’s time to reclaim levity and humor for all ages.
With that in mind, I’ve decided for my upcoming birthday that I’m not going to count it in years anymore. I’m going back to months, because it sounds more fun. It also requires people to do math, which either means they won’t realize how old I am or they’ll get some mental exercise. In a short time, I will reach the ripe old age of 600 months.
