Ramblings Of An Old Guy
Ramblings of an Old Guy
Let me begin by saying that I believe age is only a number. It’s only a count of the number of years we’ve been in this physical experience on this earth. At this writing, I’ve been around for 64 of those earth years. The ‘Old Guy’ reference is a mocking jab at some of those people around me who refer to me as the old guy, as if that’s a bad thing. It’s also tongue-in-cheek, as I believe age has only the meaning a person gives it.
I don’t believe that as that number spirals upward, I must spiral downward. I don’t believe age equals decline. Rather, I believe I am coming into the best years of my life. I’ve lived long enough to gain a bit of wisdom, a little perspective, some life experience. While I may not be worldly, have not traveled the globe, have not held prestigious positions in the corporate world or political realm, I have been a consummate observer, questioner, and internal traveler. I don’t pretend to know it all. As I tell people, I know a little bit about a lot of things, but not much about anything. I have made more than my share of mistakes, missteps, and blunders. I have had to have my foot surgically removed from my mouth more times than I care to admit. One thing I have learned is how little I know. But then, this isn’t an educational blog.
Part of me feared even starting this blog. As often happens when I ponder something new, something that presents me in any public way, questions arose about my abilities, worthiness, intelligence. Would I have anything worthwhile to say? Would anyone care? In today’s world, there are people out there just waiting to attack, judge, condemn, accuse, find offense. Would I have appropriate responses? Would I take them personally? Would I let them bother me at all?
On the other hand, I thought, what if someone found what I had to say pleasing, encouraging, helpful—even healing? What if someone read what I had to say and felt relief that they aren’t the only one feeling that way; that they’ve had similar thoughts, feelings, or experiences? What if I make someone smile, laugh, feel good?
That’s motivating enough to ignore all the voices in my head telling me to play it safe, keep my mouth shut, just go to my room and think about it; reminding me that it’s a risk to expose myself. The thought that I might be even a small help to someone makes any risk worthwhile.
As for the haters, I can’t worry about them. They have their own demons. That’s why they’re haters. Besides, it can be fun knowing you’re pushing someone’s buttons.