It’s the second week in May and snow is falling. I had bet myself we’d seen the last of the white stuff until Halloween. Tricked me. But this unseasonable weather has served a good purpose, as it’s made me think about the way we buy into certain seasons of life having boundaries and edges, beginnings and ends.
Child. Adolescent. Teen. Young adult. Adult. Middle age. Senior. Elder. “Act your age.”
But how much living gets lost because we’ve passed one point or haven’t reached another? And what in us is never born if we limit our options for some imaginary perimeter?
Now that I’m in the “third third” of my life, I’m actively seeking out those people for whom age is a reality but not a reason. They’re the ones who openly claim their chronological age because it’s no big thing. It’s also not a speed limit or a hall pass. They show up. They share. And they shine.
To me, these are the torch people George Bernard Shaw described.
And I fully intend to be one…when I grow up. 😉
A Splendid Torch
This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.
I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community, and as long as I live it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can.
I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no “brief candle” for me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.