Hello again, dear zombie. How nice of you to drop by again for a visit.
How are your lessons faring? Because the list of lessons is growing along with my longer term memory troubles, the lengthening list of lessons will not be listed here. (If you are interested, though, feel free to check out this magazine’s website article archives.)
Those of you who are succeeding at the lesson plan, I thank you on behalf of myself and the rest of our fellow zombies residing on this beautiful planet we call earth. Today is a better day because of your efforts.
I’ve been directing my energies in a different area, lately. I recently celebrated my fort…fort…fort…my 2nd Annual 39th birthday. The efforts I have been making (besides the groaning physical ones of a four decade old body) have been this: How can I make turning fort…fort…fort…38 plus 2 years old into something positive?
We’re funny people when it comes to the whole aging process. We have good ages and bad ages, with those ages falling into the good or bad column depending on perception.
Remember being 10 years old? Ten years old was FABULOUS, it was fantastic, it was festive, (plus a whole lot of other adjectives that don’t start with the letter ‘f’.) Being 10 was being on the cusp of something dramatic, much like what I would imagine a mountain climber feels when he or she is within the last 100 yards of the mountain’s peak.
See, when you’re 10 you are almost a teenager, which was freaking HUGE for a ‘tweener. You also had 16 and driving a car right around the bend. 19 and a cold beer was soon after that.
Turning 20 was great, too, almost as cool as it was turning 10.
Turning 20 meant you survived high school AND your teenage years, which was no small feat. Turning 20 meant you were a million times wiser than you were at 19. At 20 years old, you knew absolutely everything there was to know.
And that’s exactly what made turning thirty suck so much. By the time we turned 30, we realized we knew nothing, absolutely zilch, and that was a cruel blow to our egos.
Now, because I’ve only had the experience of turning fort…fort…fort…almost six dog years, I have no idea what it’ll be like to turn fifty or sixty, although I am hoping 60, just five years short of retirement, is going to be just as cool as I imagine it being during a hot, time-crawling Wednesday afternoon at my regular full time job.
But, as I said earlier, because I haven’t experienced 50 or 60 I hesitate to speculate what those ages will bring.
Which brings us back to fort…fort…fort…25 times 2 minus 10 years old. What is this age? It seems like such a popular age to tease someone about. Nobody gives a hoot when you turn 37 or 42. What is so significant about my new age?
Because of a somewhat recent decision to always find the bright side of things, I struggled mightily to find the positives. But then, slowly, ever so ssssllllloooowwwwlllyyy, a faint glimmer glowed in the darkness.
I followed the glimmer and it began to grow, illuminating the darkness a little more and more with each step that I took.
Could it be that turning fort…fort…fort…FORTY (YES, I did it!!!) isn’t just an age where people feel free to bombard you with ‘old fart’ jokes and jibes? Could it be that turning forty (hey, this is getting easier) is an age where I no longer have a selfish, myopic view of the world and am starting to see that there really is a bigger picture? Could it be that turning forty (I’ll be shouting it from the rooftops soon) is actually a perfect age to make these realizations as I’m still young enough to not fall into the ‘can’t teach an old dog new tricks’ category?
Yes, yes, YES, there is a positive to turning forty, dear zombie. And it turns out to be an excellent lesson for this issue’s column, as well.
Lighten up. That’s it. Lighten up about age, body type, and worries about paying bills, and heavy up on world peace, a clean earth for our children, and inner serenity.
The only real job we have to do each day is wake up each morning and contribute to something called the common good.
And the common good was something we all learned well, well before we turned forty.
Humanity Man resides on this beautiful planet Gaia and loves peace, happiness, and (apparently) turning forty. He dislikes war, hate, and ageism. Feel free to contact him with ideas or comments through this magazine.
Tags: humanity man
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