Older and More Flexible
Do people get more rigid and more set in their ways as they age or do they become more flexible, more tolerant? I’ve discovered evidence for bother sides and wonder what the general experience might be – assuming there is some general experience.
I used to tell my first wife that I wanted to die by the time I was 50. The older people I knew where cranky, miserable, unhappy and difficult to get along with. I didn’t want to become like them.
Personally, I find myself becoming more flexible as I age. I don’t care what you do with your life. I don’t need or expect you to adopt certain values or behave in specified ways or believe like me. I care care what you wear, how you cut your hair, if you have tatoos or what you've pierced. It doesn't matter to me if you're gay, straight, hybrid, uncertain or confused. I don’t care what you do, watch, say or think – as long as it doesn’t infringe on my freedom and enjoyment of life. In many ways, I’m more flexible than I used to be.
I’m more flexible in that I dislike structure. When younger, I planned my days, had goals and needed a comfortable amount of control. Today, I get up and may have some vague plans. If they get done today – fine. If they don’t – also fine. If some interesting opportunity arises, I’m ready.
I like things quieter and slower. Traffic is more irritating and broadcast media more frustrating. I’m beginning to understand why some people move into retirement villages. It’s not my choice but I’m beginning to understand their choice. This doesn’t mean I’m becoming rigid and inflexible. It means that I appreciate quality rather than quantity. I want time to enjoy the moment rather than rushing to the next moment.
I enjoy life more than when I was younger. I’m more tolerant and more flexible.
I’m getting older but I am not getting old!
I used to tell my first wife that I wanted to die by the time I was 50. The older people I knew where cranky, miserable, unhappy and difficult to get along with. I didn’t want to become like them.
Personally, I find myself becoming more flexible as I age. I don’t care what you do with your life. I don’t need or expect you to adopt certain values or behave in specified ways or believe like me. I care care what you wear, how you cut your hair, if you have tatoos or what you've pierced. It doesn't matter to me if you're gay, straight, hybrid, uncertain or confused. I don’t care what you do, watch, say or think – as long as it doesn’t infringe on my freedom and enjoyment of life. In many ways, I’m more flexible than I used to be.
I’m more flexible in that I dislike structure. When younger, I planned my days, had goals and needed a comfortable amount of control. Today, I get up and may have some vague plans. If they get done today – fine. If they don’t – also fine. If some interesting opportunity arises, I’m ready.
I like things quieter and slower. Traffic is more irritating and broadcast media more frustrating. I’m beginning to understand why some people move into retirement villages. It’s not my choice but I’m beginning to understand their choice. This doesn’t mean I’m becoming rigid and inflexible. It means that I appreciate quality rather than quantity. I want time to enjoy the moment rather than rushing to the next moment.
I enjoy life more than when I was younger. I’m more tolerant and more flexible.
I’m getting older but I am not getting old!
posted by Paul at 8:49 AM
4 Comments:
Bodies and minds must be stretched if they are to become flexible. It is obvious you stretch the body, mind, and soul.
That is a good thing.
I think I'm more flexible too, maybe more mellow, more relaxed about life.
I'm a damn sight dumber now than I was as a young man. Back then I knew everything. I wish I could remember exactly what it was.
As far as flexiblility goes...well....my back can't seem to spell that word as well anymore.
Me thinks as one gets older one has had the experiences that we now see happening to those around us.
I have a wry smile when I see those around me do things that I know will have a bad result.
At a party the younger party goers insisted on skulling Bourons and the like. Their comments to me as I drank my fill at a pace i like were not the most flattering.
Come the wee hrs they lay on the floor fast asleep or in the bathroom having a "who can throw up the most" contest.
Enter the morning sun I started the BBQ and proceeded to cook bacon and eggs, mushrooms, bread soaked in dripping!
As the moans and groans came forth from the wiff of a greasy BBQ going full bore I straddled this old mans body over to the fridge and cracked open a beer and politely asked if anyone would care to join me.....
The Bathroom was a mess!
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