I look and listen to those around me who now have walked the earth for some time.  I hear talk of aches and pains and how they’re getting old.  I understand this perspective, but each time they utter these words aloud I feel they are cementing their contention.  I have no illusions about living forever, but I don’t intend to contribute to hurrying journey to death.

I’ve also seen those who have tasted the bitterness of lost love whether from divorce or the loss of family member and it has hardened their hearts and now they choose to drift through life as if it’s a chore.  I too have felt the sting of loss and have been tempted to succumb to this pull.

So how does one remain youthful despite experiencing the hurts that inevitably happen as the grains of sand fall through the hourglass?  I’ve been asking these questions for a while now and don’t pretend to have a magic key, but I continue to do my best to stand firm against the prevailing winds.

For one, I don’t emphasize my chronological age.  I prefer not answering that question whether on form or asked by friend.  It’s true I will provide the answer if required, but I make no habit of it.  I suppose you can call this the “Jack Benny” approach as when asked he was always thirty-nine.

The other thing I feel drags us toward finish line prematurely is the loss of wonder.  When young and all is new, the sense of it is evident in the smallest things.  Leaves carefully raked into pile sufficient to provide padding.  Grandma allowing you to pull bus cord to alert driver of your desired exit.  Shopping in the sparkling shops on a snowy evening in the holiday season.  A special meal with family at your favorite restaurant.  Hidden Easter basket that when found will provide sweets of chocolate, marshmallow, and jellybean.

It is safe to say that I’ve not launched myself into leafy pile or ridden bus with grandma or broken with my online shopping habit and ventured out in the snow or been able to visit café with my full family or hunted for hidden basket in some years, but I feel there is still a way to elicit wonder at least in small measure.

From my previous postings you know I love to ride bicycle on trail particularly when Autumn leaves whirl in the wind and color the ground like a Pollock canvas.  Watching a good ballgame like I once did regularly with my dad.  Writing a formula in a spreadsheet that works exactly as intended.  Holding girlfriend’s hand.  Lending hand to woman who can’t reach that jar of olives on high shelf.  Helping child understand a math problem.  Feeling ocean’s warm wash cover feet and then pull away.

I doubt a member of the jet set would look at my list of small wonders and derive pleasure as they scarcely compare with trip to Riviera or Everest climb or Superbowl’s fifty-yard line.  And all those things are fine and perhaps a Riviera adventure is in my future, but in the meantime, I intend to keep my sense of wonder and a youthful spirit in every way I can.

The calendar is once again turning toward the holidays and having written this, I hope snow will soon drift in the air as I will certainly walk to a shop to purchase trinket or tensile and I’ll aim to catch flake on tongue as I make my way.