Getting Younger
The world is still too big, but, sometimes, I'm ok with that. Sometimes, I can sit next to him like he's a big, friendly dragon. He gets upset occasionally, and he might accidentally kill me if he gets too worked up, but that's ok.
Today, the world is too big, and I'm sitting next to him feeling small — but he's my friend today. I see us sitting by a pond. He's kind of this big, tender-hearted oaf. The world has caused such a ruckus because he's so freaking big and can't control himself, but he didn't mean it. When you can calm him down — by a pond for instance — he's really sweet. Even though he's oafish, he's really wise — maybe like Winnie the Pooh:
It's funny: as I get older, I am getting much younger. It's weird how much people fret about passing through time. If you're so worried about getting old, stop using your time that way! Spend your time getting young!
I've been alive nearly 30 years (well, alive and out of the womb nearly 30 years). I'm a good bit younger than I was years ago. I might be the youngest I've ever been — but that would take too much remembering to confirm. At the very least, I can say that I am younger than yesterday, last year, or even five years ago.
It's delicious!
Admittedly, I think I owe a lot of this subtle, sudden new chapter to Stephen King. I've told you a couple times now that I've been reading "On Writing" by the man. The first half or so of his book is just of him recounting his past, just telling stories. I like his style. I've read none of his novels — and horror is not my genre at all — but I almost want to if only his style is the same. It's very smooth. It's like a loving uncle who has gone just a dash crazy but is really very sharp and alert. He says it like it is without being an ass. He's not afraid to admit and regret his past, but he's not stuck in it either.
My style has already changed under his influence. I felt it. I feel it. More candor, more recall, more clarity. Other factors have influenced me of course, but it is no mere coincidence.
Perhaps I shall write about this very thing! I was just going to talk about wind elementals. For the most part, they hate humans. They think humans are inept beyond belief. But they love human children. They are utterly fascinated by the imagination and brazenness of human children. They admire them really. A wind would much rather debate any topic with a human child than with a human adult. Just in case you were thinking it, it has nothing to do with the idea that they would win debates; rather, they are eager to see the insightful (even if juvenile) perspectives human children have.
I'm going to try my hand at it right now!
Today, the world is too big, and I'm sitting next to him feeling small — but he's my friend today. I see us sitting by a pond. He's kind of this big, tender-hearted oaf. The world has caused such a ruckus because he's so freaking big and can't control himself, but he didn't mean it. When you can calm him down — by a pond for instance — he's really sweet. Even though he's oafish, he's really wise — maybe like Winnie the Pooh:
"What day is it?"That's my favorite quotation from the silly, old bear.
"It's today," squeaked Piglet.
"My favorite day," said Pooh.
It's funny: as I get older, I am getting much younger. It's weird how much people fret about passing through time. If you're so worried about getting old, stop using your time that way! Spend your time getting young!
I've been alive nearly 30 years (well, alive and out of the womb nearly 30 years). I'm a good bit younger than I was years ago. I might be the youngest I've ever been — but that would take too much remembering to confirm. At the very least, I can say that I am younger than yesterday, last year, or even five years ago.
It's delicious!
Admittedly, I think I owe a lot of this subtle, sudden new chapter to Stephen King. I've told you a couple times now that I've been reading "On Writing" by the man. The first half or so of his book is just of him recounting his past, just telling stories. I like his style. I've read none of his novels — and horror is not my genre at all — but I almost want to if only his style is the same. It's very smooth. It's like a loving uncle who has gone just a dash crazy but is really very sharp and alert. He says it like it is without being an ass. He's not afraid to admit and regret his past, but he's not stuck in it either.
My style has already changed under his influence. I felt it. I feel it. More candor, more recall, more clarity. Other factors have influenced me of course, but it is no mere coincidence.
Perhaps I shall write about this very thing! I was just going to talk about wind elementals. For the most part, they hate humans. They think humans are inept beyond belief. But they love human children. They are utterly fascinated by the imagination and brazenness of human children. They admire them really. A wind would much rather debate any topic with a human child than with a human adult. Just in case you were thinking it, it has nothing to do with the idea that they would win debates; rather, they are eager to see the insightful (even if juvenile) perspectives human children have.
I'm going to try my hand at it right now!
Age IS a funny thing, isn’t it? You probably didn’t intend this post as a springboard for an age conversation, but I’ll use it that way. (I hope you don’t mind.) So many people in our Western culture fear advanced age. Other cultures, including ones in which the Bible was penned, value it.
ReplyDelete“Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained in the way of righteousness.” – Proverbs 16:31
“Is not wisdom found among the aged? Does not long life bring understanding?” – Job 12:12
What is a person’s true age? I like to tell people that I’ve already been 90 (referring to my previous health issues that made me feel that way for years), and now at 42, I feel better than I did at 24! But would I trade my years of experience to actually BE younger? Never!
Of course, maybe I don’t worry about getting older because I’ve always been an “old soul.” My parents tell me that even in childhood, I always acted like a little adult. It reminds me of the 1995 remake of the film “Sabrina,” in which Sabrina asks her father, “What was Linus Larrabee like as a child?” The father replies with gravity, “Shorter.”
So you can get younger every day, my friend, and I?...I will remain an “old soul” forever, I think. But then again, I suppose we’re all quite young in relation to eternity.
Your comments are always apt and appreciated!
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