It is just weird being almost 50 yet waking up every morning with memories of a younger self. A self that was pain free, agile, energetic, idealistic, and unstoppable. I guess aging is a reconciling process. Keep the idealism, improve the methodology.
It is trickier than I thought, this process. It is difficult to look at your younger self and scold that image for wasted time…all the while fist-pumping for knowing each perceived misstep was a stepping stone.
I look at my child, and I see everything good about my soul. Then I gaze at this body and see everything bad about my life choices.
Nothing profound here. Just noting…
But, one constant is that each day, I awaken with gratitude to still be on this earth, flailing around in the cosmic muck, content to do so until I am absorbed back into the universe.
My life a blip. My energy redirected.