I wonder when old starts. Is it a number? Or an attitude? Or maybe it’s just a natural shifting of priorities. Whatever it is, I think I’m old now, and I like it. It’s so damn sensible. For example, it used to be that if I was driving somewhere, my objective was to get to my destination without wasting any time getting there. It was like there was an ongoing scorecard or something. If I would speed up to anticipate a light change, and then scoot through that light on yellow, that was a victory. If I got stopped by that light, it was a defeat.
No more. I only have one objective now when I drive, and that’s to not run into anything. If I decide to slow down or stop when I don’t really need to, that’s always the reason why. (What makes this possible is that I no longer think of time spent waiting for a light to change as being less valuable or less important than time spent with a loved one or playing poker or whatever. Another oldness trait perhaps?)
It’s the same with cooking. I used to be in a hurry to just get it over with. Eating was, in my mind, more often than not, an inconvenience. Now I take my time feeding myself, and my prime objective when working with food is to not draw blood.
And then there’s exercise. My objectives used to be all the usual stuff. Now all I hope for and aim at is to pay enough attention to not injure myself.
If growing old means hurrying less, and risking less, then yes, I am consciously making myself older every day, because I want to acquire more oldness, right away!