Listening to something recently, I heard one person tell another that their outlook on opportunities had changed the older they got.

They realized, finally!, that they would never be younger than they were the second they said yes to something they wanted to do. “I’ll never be younger than this. Why would I wait?” (I have to laugh, thinking of this sentiment in that crotchety, impatient sort of way: “Hey, pal, I’m not gettin’ any younger here!”)

But this also got me thinking. In this moment, yes, I am the youngest I will ever be. I will only continue to get older in that blurry thing ahead of me called “the future.”

But this is also the oldest I have ever been, right here in this moment. So I am, at once, the oldest I ever have been and the youngest I ever will be, right now.

And the same will be true in the next moment, and the next, and the next.

Young and old aren’t opposites. They’re complements; they’re pieces that complete each other. There’s none of one without the other.

So where does this leave me? It makes me feel pretty free.

I am allowed to be ignorant of everything I haven’t yet learned. After all, this is the youngest I’ll ever be! And yet, what I’ve learned by this point is enough, by definition, because this is the oldest I’ve ever been. I’m the wisest and the most ignorant version of myself right now. And it’s the only way I could possibly be.

There’s nothing to fight; there’s nothing to strive for. I get to just be here.

Writing Prompt

If you were able to give yourself permission to be just the way you are right now, what would that feel like? What would change?