As I sit halfway through my 49th year, I've come to the realization that I can look back at each decade, I've never been in the right place at the right time. I'm soon-to-be-50, which for some is a milestone, but for me, I'd simply like to live comfortably in the decade I'm inhabiting.
So what am I talking about? Chronologically, I am 49. Physically, there are times I feel as if I'm 69 or 79., depending on the weather and what I may or may not have done the day before. Mentally, I feel 39, knowing what I need to know to be a responsible, accountable, and productive adult. At times, when I realize how few responsible, accountable, and productive people there actually are, I feel I have the wisdom of an 89-year-old. Yes, I feel it's that rare. My desires have me feeling as if I'm 19 again. I long to play sports, meet new people, experience new things, and not care about tomorrow. Those times were not the best when I look back, but the repercussions seemed surmountable. Ideally, in my mind, albeit a fantasy, I am 29. I am the person who can still enjoy my self, my job, my hobbies, my friends, the beauty of young and old without judgment, and I feel as if I've lived enough to know better, but still young enough to make mistakes. I have to remind myself, daily, this is not the case. My successes will not change my life as much as I believe, and my failures take more time to combat. When I relate to people in their 20;s, I must constantly remind myself that this is not reciprocal. I border on being the cool or the creepy older guy. When I work with kids, I feel as if I'm the fun one, but what they see is their grandfather, even if I am the same age as their parents. It's a daily conflict where my internal views do not correlate with what others see.
Don't care what others see or how they view you. Yes, it's a simple concept and it's just as silly as "age is just a number." Age is just a number, but it's a number that comes with expectations and consequences. My financial, relationship, and social situations resemble those of the age I desire, but social expectations and judgment are not only cast upon me by others, but also, and most importantly, by myself. At 29, I was surprised I was not married with children. At 49, I am relieved, knowing how most people my age feel about their situation, while still coveting the togetherness of the nuclear family unit. The American Dream, for all intent and purpose, is a nightmare. One I've avoided, while still coveting the responsibility of it all. The white picket fence, the trophy wife, and the 2.2 kids was never something I dreamed of, but the fact I've never come close to stepping into that facade is a little strange in today's world...and yesterday's.
I am 49, and believe it or not, I know who I am. Unlike the zombie masses, I have no delusions of who I am and I never try to project my wishes as some false reality. I am a cynic, almost pessimistic, not because I wish to be, but because the world is a harsh place that chastizes, mocks, and punishes honesty, integrity, and accountability. It is a world that is much more concerned with appearance, both outward and inward. We have even made mental and health illness posh personality traits, one which people carefully promote as who they are, ignoring that their inability to handle even the day-to-day hurdles of simply being alive. I know I have more flaws than I have strengths, and maybe that puts me at an age more advanced than the trips around the sun I've taken. I will be 50 soon and with some luck, I'll turn 59, and I wonder: Will I be 50 in every way when it comes or will I still be some other version of the 9s?
So what am I talking about? Chronologically, I am 49. Physically, there are times I feel as if I'm 69 or 79., depending on the weather and what I may or may not have done the day before. Mentally, I feel 39, knowing what I need to know to be a responsible, accountable, and productive adult. At times, when I realize how few responsible, accountable, and productive people there actually are, I feel I have the wisdom of an 89-year-old. Yes, I feel it's that rare. My desires have me feeling as if I'm 19 again. I long to play sports, meet new people, experience new things, and not care about tomorrow. Those times were not the best when I look back, but the repercussions seemed surmountable. Ideally, in my mind, albeit a fantasy, I am 29. I am the person who can still enjoy my self, my job, my hobbies, my friends, the beauty of young and old without judgment, and I feel as if I've lived enough to know better, but still young enough to make mistakes. I have to remind myself, daily, this is not the case. My successes will not change my life as much as I believe, and my failures take more time to combat. When I relate to people in their 20;s, I must constantly remind myself that this is not reciprocal. I border on being the cool or the creepy older guy. When I work with kids, I feel as if I'm the fun one, but what they see is their grandfather, even if I am the same age as their parents. It's a daily conflict where my internal views do not correlate with what others see.
Don't care what others see or how they view you. Yes, it's a simple concept and it's just as silly as "age is just a number." Age is just a number, but it's a number that comes with expectations and consequences. My financial, relationship, and social situations resemble those of the age I desire, but social expectations and judgment are not only cast upon me by others, but also, and most importantly, by myself. At 29, I was surprised I was not married with children. At 49, I am relieved, knowing how most people my age feel about their situation, while still coveting the togetherness of the nuclear family unit. The American Dream, for all intent and purpose, is a nightmare. One I've avoided, while still coveting the responsibility of it all. The white picket fence, the trophy wife, and the 2.2 kids was never something I dreamed of, but the fact I've never come close to stepping into that facade is a little strange in today's world...and yesterday's.
I am 49, and believe it or not, I know who I am. Unlike the zombie masses, I have no delusions of who I am and I never try to project my wishes as some false reality. I am a cynic, almost pessimistic, not because I wish to be, but because the world is a harsh place that chastizes, mocks, and punishes honesty, integrity, and accountability. It is a world that is much more concerned with appearance, both outward and inward. We have even made mental and health illness posh personality traits, one which people carefully promote as who they are, ignoring that their inability to handle even the day-to-day hurdles of simply being alive. I know I have more flaws than I have strengths, and maybe that puts me at an age more advanced than the trips around the sun I've taken. I will be 50 soon and with some luck, I'll turn 59, and I wonder: Will I be 50 in every way when it comes or will I still be some other version of the 9s?
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