The older I become, the more I seem to be in dialog with myself about, well, becoming older. I don’t think it’s unique to me. I believe most older people do this to some degree or other.

Even those I have known who do all within their power to deny aging end up dealing with it at every level of their consciousness. The effort to keep aging at bay, paradoxically, keeps it near. It’s impossible to resist something without being aware of it – being in touch with it. It’s rather Zinish to say, “Just stop resisting and it disappears”. But it seems to work much better than resisting, if happiness is your goal. Surely, happiness is the goal.

If it were not for being old, which I mostly enjoy, I’d be young and virile, which I also enjoyed but did not understand at the time. I now understand “young and virile”, I think. That’s called understanding being old. I’m thinking that if my goal is to be a happy old person, then that is a good place to start. Perspective. Getting it. The big picture. The long look.

It used to piss me off to have some older person tell me that I was too young to understand. The hell you say, I would say. I understand all too well. Don’t tell me I don’t understand.

Frankly, many do have a level of understanding early on that is amazing, while some of us never have a clue. But there comes a time, for most of us, in the dead of some night when the squeaking sounds of Charon’s oars suddenly ratifies our mortality and all the dogma we once espoused begins to appear inconsequential in the shadow of our simple humanity. The truth of life’s brevity suddenly sobers us from the scatteredness of our mid-life binge. Tic Toc! The hour is late!

Do not misjudge. This is not a sad statement. Rejoice with me. I am 80 today! I never dreamed I’d get this far down the road, and now I find I dream of going farther. I’ll not put a number on that, thank you very much. Let’s just say farther, which, of course, fits any number.

Thank you, all of you who have spent time with me along the way. I can’t imagine this journey without you.

Jerry Henderson