I never listened to older people when I was in my twenties and thirties. I guess no one really does. The arrogance of youth was strong in me and I really should have listened, but instead I went about life with the abandon of perceived immortality and the narcissism of scoffing at out of touch, old people who knew nothing.
So now, the time has come to pay for my ignorance. Every day I look older, I feel older and regret the choices I made. I’ sure this is the same for everyone who reaches this point of life. OK maybe not, but I don’t know anyone who looks back with no regrets. Every pill I take, every battle with gout, every groan that comes with silly little things like standing up, triggers remembering what it was like to live life without these ongoing signs that whether you like it or not your body, mind and life is slowing and it’s too late to do a damn thing about it.
If, when I was 30, and I could spend a day in my current body and mind would I change? Would I make choices that would slow the inevitable process currently causing this whining? Probably not. I would probably make the same choices.
The best I can make of this now is acceptance. And hopefully, passing these regrets on to someone younger who will actually listen. But why should they? I sure as hell didn’t.