I turned 40. I gave age a fleeting thought. It was more philosophical. Not yet quite real. We were a young family still. I was oblivious of life's challenges, which I knew people were going through. I didn't have to struggle much. I worked hard and everything was looked at philosophically. I was an idealist. Not a realist. And every action was wrapped around a metaphysical context.
I'm now 50. The kids are not kids anymore. I have whatever's left of my life back. And I can slip back into my philosophical shell. The practical life of earning money to live is still here, but the end of that life is closer.
At 50, I've spent time looking at pictures. And boy, I've aged. I'm so much older. I can see it now. The incremental changes that were happening over the years were barely noticeable. It's like I stepped into a black hole and came out on the other side in a different civilization. I'm no longer the kid. I'm no longer the dad. I'm almost the granddad.
I came across a picture of myself at 11 years of age. I could see some resemblance. I looked small, timid and subdued. And I have so many pictures of me during my university days. Life was a full time job. It wasn't what you did in the evenings or on weekends. We lived twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, twelve months a year. Interrupted by periods of education. When I look at pictures of myself during my university days, I looked so happy. I didn't have much money. But money wasn't a source of pleasure. It wasn't what drove happiness. Money was an enabler. But even if you didn't have it. You still were able to find happiness. We read a lot. We read so much and spent a lot of time talking and discussing ideas. We built models of balsa wood. Of cardboard. Models even using cut up beer cans. We were creative. And life was good.
But as I sit here, I'm thinking different thoughts. Hopefully I get to sixty, then seventy and beyond. I'll probably look back at 50 and think, "boy, that doesn't look so bad!" So that's how I should behave now. That 50 doesn't look that bad. And live 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 12 month a year. All the way to 60.
And when I get to 60, take a moment to look in the rear-view mirror, only for a second before charging forward again.
There was a time in my mid-40's where I was trying to search for my life back. Get that "joie de vivre" back. If I was to draw a "smart curve," it would look like the following:
Smartness on the y-axis and age on the x-axis. I think that I was smartest between 20 and 30. Those were the university days. Running marathons in 3:12 to 3:20 easily. I recall passing the half at 1:10 during the Ottawa marathon. Reading Kant, Descartes, Socrates, C. S. Lewis, Bertrand Russell, John Stewart Mill, Michel Foucoult among others. And learning about China's history of art and architecture. Drawing. Living like a true Leonardo da Vinci. A master of all trades.
But still some John Grisham, Umberto Eco, Michael Crichton and the stuff that takes you away from this life into the fantastical.
The philosophical quest died when I started working. Art, drawing and architecture followed soon. And all that was left was the shell of the engineering mind and the books of fantasy. And feeding your brain with that stuff does not get you very far. Garbage in. Garbage out.
But now I'm fifty. I will never be this age again. I look at myself ten, twenty years ago and wonder where the time went? I was busy mowing the lawn. Running to the grocery store. Working extended hours. Not talking to my family. Disconnected from mum and dad. That's what I was busy doing. I look at pictures of dad in his youth. And pictures of dad today. You can see the youthful man, inside the older man's body.
And that's what I want to do and be. I want to look back at 80. And still see this fifty year old inside.
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