Just a Number

My daughter is 28. And I am 27. We both knew this day would come. I’ve been telling her for years that someday she would be older than I am. She is totally cool with this.

Of course what I’m talking about is my true age, my internal age if you will. The one that feels about right, not the one that my driver’s license insolently insists on. Pshaw. That’s not my age. That’s not what I look like either. This is what I look like: :-) (self portrait)

The best way of course to maintain an internal age is to never look in a mirror. Unless you absolutely have to, and I can't think of any reason why you would. I can think of at least a dozen things I'd rather look at than myself.

1. A sunset
2. A dog
3. Two dogs
4. My family (most of the time)
5. A movie
6. A flower
7. A painting
8. A sunrise
9. The moon
10. The ocean
11. A rainbow
12. A friend

I recently read that Julia Louis-Dreyfus feels more like 38 than 58. I would have pegged her for 28, but then she would know better than I do.

Satchel Paige once asked this thought-provoking question: "How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?" He played professional baseball until he was in his 60s. I guess he didn’t know how old he was. Or better still, he didn’t care.

Source: Nancyjane/Pixabay

I try not to guess anyone’s age but my own because I don’t think anyone’s age is any of my business. In fact, I don’t think my own age is any of my business. It doesn’t tell me anything of value or importance. Which is not to say I am trying to look or act younger. Younger than what? Than whom?

Mostly I try to look neat and tidy, and mostly I try not to act. Acting is artifice. Living is real. Behavior is important, especially these days. These days more than ever, kindness counts, and listening matters. So does tuning out the noise.

I grew up a long time ago, relatively speaking. Too young to go to Woodstock, too old for Mr. Rogers. Now I’m trying to grow down, get smaller in my own estimation of myself. Here’s the equation that explains it best: Big universe, little me. There used to be a saying: Small is beautiful. It’s never really caught on. But it still could. Give it time.

So in spite of what you see, what you’ve heard, what you know, I’m 28 years old and small. And yes, I guess that means I’m beautiful.