Stop for a moment, just let everything else on your mind go, and consider: what age to you feel you are?
For no explicable reason, just now, that's the question I found myself asking. One might wonder what on earth is with me and my age-related questions, that is, if you didn't know better. Not a mid-life crisis if that was your thought. But out of the blue (and there again, an interesting metaphor, because when you really think of it, the thought emerged from my own brain rather than the blue meant to represent the sky...but then again there I go being literal, again), this question formed and presented itself.
I really really don't have an answer. For some reason, I always feel I'm stuck at this one certain age - the numeral of which I shan't reveal here - and despite having been removed from that age by a great number of years, I'm mentally still there. Maybe.
Maybe, because even though I am perpetually locked in the youth emporium, I cannot deny that a great number of events have occurred to enumerate these years in between that age I refrain from specifying. Those years, in fact are far more profound than all the years prior to that age in summation. Well, they are in my opinion because those years are inclusive of what I consider The Best Part of My Life.
Of course, again, every year previous, and especially more, are those which merit the development of me into the person I am....rather the persons I have been, each further being developed toward the person I am. Well that's saying the same thing in a wordy manner.
I guess when it comes down to it, the number itself truly does not matter. I mean, you could be counting the years off your fingers, or examining the fine wrinkles or searching for white or grey hairs, all the while you could be looking at the way life is going by, or even better, truly living.
Though I don't know what the exact connection itself is, reminds me of something else I said earlier today: "no reason why the living shouldn't go on living"..