Age – that B#t*&

What is it about Age/Aging that makes us depressed? Is it the assault to our vanity which takes a beating with maliciously accumulating wrinkles? Or our failing eyesight which we refuse to acknowledge till we walk head first into a tree?
I secretly believe that it is the fear that each passing year¬†takes us one step closer to incontinence and adult diapers! ūüôā
On a serious note – I think it might just be the dawning realization that we aren’t immortal. It is not the fear of death though but the fact that each year closer to death means each year farther and farther away from those dreams and those aspirations that we had as kids and the inescapable and oft times unpalatable truth that we are going to have to let some of them go. Like that guitar that we wanted to learn to play. Or the trek through the amazon jungle/eastern europe. Or that masterpiece that we were going to paint. Or bungee jumping into seeming oblivion.
And yet there are people who seem to look Age in the eye and stick out their tongues impudently and seem to escape unscathed. I see 65 year old matrons looking like they could skip to the park (not literally but you get what I mean) and back and 72 year old grandfathers who can’t wait to travel to the next continent on an All-Friends-married-bachelor trip.¬†
 
And there are the 28 year old world weary souls whose lives seem as listless as they are. Every day is a chore and every passing moment is as tedious as their conversation. 
 
So who determines which group you fall into? 
 
No one but you. 
 
I would go on to elaborate Рbut I am going to excuse myself. I am going shopping. I have water colors to buy. 
P.S. The only way to ensure that you feel younger with each passing birthday is to ensure that everyone at the party is OLDER than you :).