We get to a certain age and think the world might stop asking so much of us.
But I’m finding it doesn’t.
There are always things and people and schedules that pull at us. They just change over time.
One of the most important things I’ve learned though, is that growing up doesn’t mean leaving behind who I am.
I love what David Lynch has to say on this subject:
We think we understand the rules when we become adults,
but what we really experience
is a narrowing of the imagination.
Don’t let it happen to you. Stay authentic and loving to yourself. Leave a trail of magic by weaving one as you go.
My son’s girlfriend shared this recently, and I loved it so much, I wanted to post it here for you:
“Acting your age doesn’t mean letting go of your truth.
The truth is, you are never too old to dance in the rain,
to ride a bicycle through the night with the wind on your face and all of your troubles behind you.
You are never too old to blast the volume on your favorite song.
To mark your name into wet concrete on the sidewalk, just because you want the world to remember you were here.
You are never too old to run away from home.
To put down all that is expected of you and wander lightly into the wild; unknown.
You are never too old to rediscover yourself.
To dream and hope like anything is possible.
You are never too old to take a chance.
To be as bold as you were with your heart before years of rejection left you cynical and cautious.
You are never too old to reach out for help.
To fall apart gently in the arms of a friend.
To hold onto your mother like she is the last thing anchoring you here to the earth.
You are never too old to remain young at heart.
While maturity may bring you wisdom and strength, it is the playful, curious child in you that makes the world magic –
that makes life enchanting and worth living at all.”
So lovely and wise.
I still ride my bike. A lot. But to ride it at night with the wind on my face? Now that’s been a while!
I still blast my favorite song(s).
I threatened to run away once when I was very little. I’ve done it a few times since being an adult – now I just let my husband know where I’m going.
I still dream and hope like anything is possible. Because it is.
And I encourage my father to do the same. He’s 85 and full of vigor and, I hope, dreams.
I am too old to hold onto my mother now – she passed away this last winter. But I don’t think that necessarily has to do with age. Some of us lose our mothers when we’re quite young. I was lucky to have her for 59 years when she passed at the age of 84. Now I hold her in my heart.
I clipped a cartoon from a newspaper a few weeks ago that depicted a little boy saying, “Grandma always says, ‘Back in my day.’ Isn’t it still her day?”
Yes it is. Why yes it is our day. Still. As long as we’re breathing and our heart is beating and we’re curious and engaged with the world, bringing gratitude with us – it’s still our day.
Go out and make it magic.