The off-handed honest comment by my speaker at a writing conference struck a chord with another attendee who laughed and said "I'm used to being younger too!"
Aren't we all?
When you are young, getting older feels like maturity, wisdom, gaining responsibility and freedom. And while I'll still claim a degree of youth, I remain astounded at the speed in which years roll by. And how little age feels like your birthdate.
It's like I'm on a train, enjoying the green pastures and rolling landscapes, the children playing outside, the families on picnic blankets. It's quite the ride. But it is going faster than I thought it would.
And I wonder, where is it going?
I don't know all the tracks and vistas yet before me. But I do know something of the destination. And though my knowledge of it remains veiled, still seen dimly through a glass, longing for the face-to-face, the destination is worth pondering.
I do not believe the destination is a final check on a lifelong to do list.
Rather some combination of a long journey and a race.
Not to go faster, but to arrive well, do our best to play our role in the great hope of bringing it's arrival to us, before we come to it.
Photo by Jack Anstey on Unsplash
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