what I think about aging right now

It took me three years to realize I wasn't a teenager anymore. Passing from our teens should be accompanied by a freedom to quit washing our faces without fear of repercussion, but that's for another post. A similar thing was cemented this past weekend in a visit with Sheryl to her daughter at Covenant College near Chattanooga, Tennessee.

I'm not a college student anymore.

To everyone who says college is the best time of life (thereby implying it's all downhill from 22), I'm pleased to say that has not been the case for me. Some of it is getting a certain coping toolkit that comes with maturing into an adult - I was never as lonely traveling round the world by myself as I was that first year-and-a-half at JBU. I imagine all our toolkits look different.

What do I know at 25 except that my eyes keep getting more and more opened? It's called into relief by such exercise as watching a childhood favorite movie (i.e. 1982 primetime version of Ivanhoe Abby & I adored so much and finally understanding why everyone was so mean to Isaac and Rebecca.) I expect increasing layers corresponding to age and experience.

There is some fear of a mid-life crisis. My parents seem to have avoided it by having their spouses die on the front end and their house burn down on the back end; staying busy with other crises. We'll see what life deals.

The downside is getting cricks (as of China, the arch of my left foot zaps me in protest to excessive flip-flop wearing) or not being able to recall things. I think the solution to the former is to do yoga for the rest of my life, consistently so that if I make it to 80, my body can still do what it had been doing every few days since my twenties. To the latter, Mensa workouts?

Sheryl and one of four gorgeous daughters