In two months I will turn 25 years old.
This age isn’t exactly a milestone, but there are perks, it seems.
Renting a car and auto insurance won’t be as expensive because I am no longer in an age range with a higher chance of getting in a vehicle accident. But there aren’t many other celebratory events that take place here. The cocoon is forming. Adulthood is taking over. Next year the metamorphosis will force me to purchase my own health and dental insurance.
Aging creates a space for us to examine ourselves. It allows us to see where our lives have settled and where we hope to go. It illuminates how peculiar time can be — how some moments can stretch out and others leave us behind in an instant, wondering why we have yet to catch up.
About two months ago, I participated in doing an activity with an older group. During the process, the group, very sweetly, wanted to ensure the treat they made was not confused with another. Rather than waiting for the peanut butter and jam pastries to chill, they ate them at room temperature.
I thought it was cute.
I remember at a young age, I used to behave in a similar way (and at times I still do) because I needed the assurance that what I did or made was still available for me. By this I mean if I made a treat or something, no one picked up my saucy, creamy creations with their extra icing.
Isn’t that significant?
Despite the accomplishments, and all the grandeur we could fathom in this lifetime — regardless of the twists and turns, curves and straight lines — as we age, we still cycle and become like our younger selves. We live hoping time will hurry to achieve one accomplishment after another and when we age we wish to stay youthful, retaining what we think were our better years. Then time winds down and we revert to what we once were.
“As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.”
There’s a saying I heard from a cartoon that no longer is on television — “another year older, another year wiser.”
My hope is with the future, wrinkly skin and crows resting their feet outside of my eyes that wisdom will find its place with me. The last thing I want to be is a silly older person.
I hope with the ability to obtain cheaper insurance, living on my own and learning new things each day, aging will allow wisdom to tag along for the rented car ride.
I’m sure it will be exciting.