The Perfect Age

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.

– Anais Nin

At 46 years old, I have no way of knowing what percentage of my life has passed and what is yet before me. I like to believe I’ll live to be more than 100 years old.

Some people say it’s crazy to want to live that long. “What happens when your body doesn’t work anymore? What if you become addled?”

Of course, if you yourself have made it to 46, then you know that there are already some parts of you that don’t work like they used to. And, there are a great deal more jiggly bits.

As for addled, I’ll take my chances. Most of the older people I know are authentic and fascinating.

The one thing I know with certainty is I will never be any younger than I am in this moment. I will never have this second again. Being comfortably present with this thought brings about a reverence for life–body, mind, and spirit–that is imbued with self-acceptance and love.

In a culture of consumption, we are tempted often to focus our attention on what’s absent instead of what’s present in our lives. We become driven by a scarcity mentality that says there is never enough. Never enough time or money…or Botox or box seats or shoes or sugar or cars…never enough.

This mindset belies the truth of life–where each moment has infinite possibility and is uniquely, abundantly, and equally-fitted to be spectacular. In a similar fashion, isn’t each of us uniquely-fitted to delight in and bring delight to the world?

Appreciating and accepting ourselves as we are fosters humility, a trust in an abundant universe, and a deeper enjoyment of each of our moments.

Knowing this…makes now the perfect age.

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