We have been consumed with age lately from the presidential election to the Olympics. We replaced a presidential candidate we thought too old in his eighties and rejoiced over a first time Olympic medalist swimming at 31, the oldest in 120 years. And we still look forward to a gymnast who is competitive at the ripe old age of 27.
I can remember the stage of life when the subtle competition was about when one’s baby first walked or was potty trained or learned to read or whatever the hallmarks were of that time of life. Fortunately, no one asked about these milestones at these children’s first job interviews.
What is age and what does it mean? Certainly, there is a time in life for everything. In my eighth decade I do not waterski, but I still enjoy a ride in a boat and watching others glide gracefully over the water. I am not diminished, just at a different stage of life which has its quiet compensations. I can see back over long years and make connections that the 17-year-old Olympic competitor has no idea about. Yet, we are both in our right place at this moment.
Perhaps the lesson to be learned, is to love and appreciate whatever stage of life we may find ourselves in. Not to be limited or count the years, but take the moment and give back to the world what we have.