Inspiration: The Aged and Wise
I was walking near Central Park with a friend when I spotted this gentleman.
I wonder what he was thinking about?
I have a particular affection for the elderly. I’ve always said that I look forward to growing old because, hopefully, I will have experienced much in life and will have found the answers to many of the questions I have now.
I’ve done so much in a year that it’s scary and exciting to think about what will happen five, ten or even twenty years from now. Thoughts of my own inexperience and immaturity give me a very pronounced sense of humility. The invincibility one often feels when young is replaced with a trembling softness, with the realization that you’ve only grasped a fragment of what the world is really about. This sense of one’s…smallness is incredibly inspiring. Anything I work on with this thought in mind, whether is it poetry or crochet, feels intimate and subtle, as if my importance is simply enclosed within the four walls I inhabit; it still lacks the strength to permeate beyond myself.
Each day though, I’m growing more comfortable with the thought that my voice is indeed important, and that I do have something to offer the outside world. I suppose growing older makes one feel closer and closer to one’s humanness, and that sense of fragility urges you to work as hard as you can to make your dreams tangible. I am afraid of the “What-Ifs,” like “what if had done that?” or “what if I hadn’t been so afraid?”
This fear encourages me to push until I am too weak to do so.