On Aging

As we were eating dinner the other night, Super-boy asked with much seriousness, "Do you hate getting old?"

It caught me by surprise.  Did he somehow know that I've been wrestling daily with thoughts of aging?  

Or see me trying to disguise those fine lines with my newly-found primer product?  

Did he know that I feel a constant stirring in my soul to accomplish something of magnitude before this heart stops beating?

The awareness of how short my life really is is always upon me.  But do I hate getting older?

I won't lie.  Maybe a little.  But not much.

If we lived forever, perhaps we wouldn't feel that sense of urgency that begs us, "Do something beautiful with your life!  Your days are numbered!"

Life gets increasingly precious as another sun rises and sets.

Along with the lines on my face reminding me that I'm aging, my hope is that wisdom and grace run a little deeper as well.

There is a beauty in getting older.  I've learned to love myself...even my ugly feet.

I've learned that time and experience are continually shaping us in to what we are meant to be.

That flaws can be lovely.

That life is precious. 

I've learned to listen to the little voices in my head inspiring me to be better.

Listen harder.

Break out of that man-created box.

Do I hate getting older?  No way.  If I continue to grow in goodness and joy, I should be just about ripe for picking at a hundred and two.

"Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul." -Samuel Ullman