Thoughts after a long, hot, sticky, humid day pushing (metaphorical) boulders up (metaphorical) hills. My thoughts don't usually run away from me like this, but there it is...
They say "youth is wasted on the young." They are wrong. The young use it all up! For sure. This article in the New Yorker tells us teenage brains are different. Everything is heightened, nothing tastes better, everything has a greater impact. Young brains are more sensitive. And impressionable.
And you realize our world, our lives, are a perfect paradise for the young. Really. Maybe that is obvious. As you grow older you begin to see cycles. You don't see "the new," you see things that remind you of other things. After awhile, everything reminds you of something else.
And it's less of a paradise, and more of a mixed bag...
You live in a weary body, looking through weary eyes. You can't un-experience what you experienced. You can't un-learn what you've learned. You can't make things new, when in actual fact, and experience, they aren't new to you at all.
You do hope you can stay flexible, alert, pliable, changeable, adaptable. But time starts to shape and take away some of those attributes. For sure.
Maybe you can trade some of that lively "newness" for a well-earned wisdom? "Will they say he was a wise man?"