I Perceive My Reality Which Creates My Reality
I sit on the bench, it's a beautiful day, the air is crisp and the sun is warm. A man comes and sits down next to me. "Don't get old" he says "It's hell".
what an incredibly stupid thing to say! Yet it's common. If I had a nickel for every time someone said that to me I would be a millionaire many times over. My thoughts wander..........What is there some sort of collective when you reach a certain age you join and repeat the same stupid mantra. How do you stop time, as time carries on no matter what. What is the age requirement anyways??
I ask, "So how old are you?" He gleefully tells me as if it is some sort of badge of honor. Allowing the years to pass and never growing. As if being ignorant is a matter of pride. Worse than that turns out he is only a few years older than I am. Makes things even more ridiculous!
I don't wish to engage with him any longer.
[c=#002673]“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster... for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.”[/c]
Pity parties aren't my thing and I have no desire to go down that road.
My thoughts wander away from this mess and I wonder "How is it that I got to be my age and it never occurred to me that I was getting older? I allow my thoughts to wander again and they come around to my grandfather.......... He served in WWI for the Italian army. After the war he discovered his family was dead. With no reason to stay he hopped aboard a ship and headed to America. It wasn't long after his arrival that he met my grandmother. It was love at first sight. She had arrived in America many years earlier with her family. Though they wanted to get married her father would not let them until he became a citizen, lest he marry her and cart her back to Italy. Five years later they were finally wed.
I never heard my grandfather complain he was always so strong. He lived to be almost one hundred and one. Passing just short of his birthday. At the age of ninety nine, he was ordered to stop mowing the lawn and a service was hired for him. At age one hundred he was found on top of the roof. When asked why he replied "It was messy up there and it needed cleaning". After that he was watched closely lest he do something else that required agility. It wasn't long after this that he succumbed and he passed, telling us not long before it was time as he missed his wife and if he didn't get home she would think he didn't love her any more.
It never occurred to my grandfather that he couldn't do these things. He always just picked himself up and moved forward. He only allowed the thoughts after he was forced to sit and not move any more. Yes he missed my grandmother all those years, but as with every thing else in his life he just accepted and carried on. When he was forced to not carry on he wanted to leave.
what an incredibly stupid thing to say! Yet it's common. If I had a nickel for every time someone said that to me I would be a millionaire many times over. My thoughts wander..........What is there some sort of collective when you reach a certain age you join and repeat the same stupid mantra. How do you stop time, as time carries on no matter what. What is the age requirement anyways??
I ask, "So how old are you?" He gleefully tells me as if it is some sort of badge of honor. Allowing the years to pass and never growing. As if being ignorant is a matter of pride. Worse than that turns out he is only a few years older than I am. Makes things even more ridiculous!
I don't wish to engage with him any longer.
[c=#002673]“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster... for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.”[/c]
Pity parties aren't my thing and I have no desire to go down that road.
My thoughts wander away from this mess and I wonder "How is it that I got to be my age and it never occurred to me that I was getting older? I allow my thoughts to wander again and they come around to my grandfather.......... He served in WWI for the Italian army. After the war he discovered his family was dead. With no reason to stay he hopped aboard a ship and headed to America. It wasn't long after his arrival that he met my grandmother. It was love at first sight. She had arrived in America many years earlier with her family. Though they wanted to get married her father would not let them until he became a citizen, lest he marry her and cart her back to Italy. Five years later they were finally wed.
I never heard my grandfather complain he was always so strong. He lived to be almost one hundred and one. Passing just short of his birthday. At the age of ninety nine, he was ordered to stop mowing the lawn and a service was hired for him. At age one hundred he was found on top of the roof. When asked why he replied "It was messy up there and it needed cleaning". After that he was watched closely lest he do something else that required agility. It wasn't long after this that he succumbed and he passed, telling us not long before it was time as he missed his wife and if he didn't get home she would think he didn't love her any more.
It never occurred to my grandfather that he couldn't do these things. He always just picked himself up and moved forward. He only allowed the thoughts after he was forced to sit and not move any more. Yes he missed my grandmother all those years, but as with every thing else in his life he just accepted and carried on. When he was forced to not carry on he wanted to leave.
