Just sitting here having a pint of Haagen Dazs’s white chocolate raspberry truffle and thinking about life, specifically getting older. Why do we choose to cross the mighty Aegean daily? Are the mysteries on the other side fulfilling enough to justify the journey back to mundane shores? Did the elderly Hercules think about the…
…I just finished the entire pint of ice cream. If I see it, I eat it. It’s a sad, simple, recurring truth.
Anyway, will I be thinking about this expired pint when I am 60? Maybe. Probably not. What will I be thinking about when I am 60? Probably all of the unnecessary energy expended. Should life be about expending energy or doing all you can to preserve it? Sounds like a contradiction, no? But it’s worth considering in my view. What if it were possible to be robust and 60?
And, even if you are robust, will you be living during an era when that kind of thing isn’t frowned upon? In other words, how much of old age is reinforced by society? Is energy within humans a renewable resource? Can a polite smile lift the spirits of a man whose days were once thought to be behind him?
“I am not old. I am simply invisible.”
You are seen as a product of an era gone by. Yes, a “product.” Reduced to so many working or malfunctioning parts. A two-dimensional person long-dead, living in a 3d world.
I’m only 32, but sometimes I worry about these things. They seem irrelevant now, but they are rapidly approaching relevancy. The years are mercilessly ripped off the walls and thrown into the garbage. What do you do with that knowledge? Bury your head in the sand? If only others played along, that would be the safe bet. But they are playing to the beat of a drummer that passes you by.
There has to be a solution out there somewhere.