60. The BIG six-oh. 3 scores. Senior citizen. Elderly. Older. Part of the aging population. Social security and Medicare around the corner. AARP membership. No longer anywhere near “middle age,” and without a doubt more behind than ahead – in terms of years. But certainly more ahead than behind in terms of wisdom, knowledge, appreciation, gratefulness, compassion, empathy, love. Finally, just as I begin to really understand the important parts of life, I also begin to fully understand that my time in this corporeal body is limited. I am mortal. Heavy sigh.
But wait! 60 is the new 40, right? (Or was it 50? Let’s say 40 for the sake of argument, since I feel more like 40 than 50.) Although at 40 you have, in all likelihood, lived about half your life, while at 60? Probably 75 percent gone. Maybe you could, if you really think you’ll live to 100, say you lived 60 percent, with 40 percent still to go. 40 years. That’s a long time. But I fear the odds are not in my favor. Nor are my retirement funds! And what would those years look like? I’m fine with living, as long as I’m functional and independent. When that comes to an end, then I’m outta here, assuming I can make that choice. No, I think 80 to 85 is a good target. And then it’s on to next adventure.
I’ve had a good run up until now. I had, for the most part, a fun childhood. I’ve done a lot of different things in my adult life: worked at a couple of horse stables; served in the military; been an administrative assistant; managed a warehouse; been part owner of a business, and have worked for the past twenty plus years as an accountant. My education includes an undergraduate and master’s degree in accounting, exceeding my parents expectations, I’m sure. I have an office with a view. I’ve traveled a bit. I have a wonderful partner. We have a great house, cars, and all the material things one could possibly want for. We have our health. And we have 5 cats and a dog to keep us company. But of all the stuff, and all the years, and all the blood, sweat and tears that went into building this life, here’s what I’ve learned:
Nothing.
And everything. The stuff has become just that. Stuff. Almost a burden. But the memories, the adventures, the places visited, the friends made and friends lost. Those are the things of value. Those are the things we take with us. As I have gotten older, I have come to the realization that all the things which seemed so important early in my life have now drifted into the background, while in the foreground I see future excursions and adventures to be had, as long as the body is willing. If only I had known all this when I was 18 and graduating high school, my life would have taken a very different path indeed. Youth, as it is often said, is surely wasted on the young and inexperienced.
But…never too late to change. To move. To explore new paths with new challenges. To find simplicity and peace. To begin disinvesting the accumulated stuff. The material things. The unnecessary things. To go places, but to go lightly and freely. That’s the goal anyway. That’s my 20-year game plan. Every morning we are born again. Happy birthday to me!
~ jwb ~