Go find less

As a 70-year-old man, I’ve had lots of time to become full of my bloviating self on a large-scale and felonious basis.  I suspect this is also true for most old men, excepting the small crowd of gentle, humble, and kind old men.  It goes with the old man turf, or the old macho man world turf, and we old men, or rather old and cantankerous codgers, can’t help ourselves. 

 

But the good news is that despite being afflicted with this “condition”, along with being annoyingly jaded, loud, rude and anything else you can think of, a caring and kind heart often co-exists deep within our psyche and soul if you’re willing to peel off the layers of thick skin we’ve grown over the years to protect ourselves from the evils of the world to which we’re exposed. It’s as if we’re a macho bipolar codger of the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde kind, capable of sending confusing signals and soundbites, along with threats to all who dare cross us and our paths. 

 

Meanwhile, our wives and significant female others have spent a lifetime trying to change us, taking up this treacherous assignment when they, and we, were young, believing that it was in their power to turn us around to the person they thought they had caught, only to discover the person we really were and are.  They constantly ooze in frustration after many years of futile efforts, and discover that what they got, long ago, is what they still have today. 

 

To our damsels in distress, us older guys can often be heard telling them, “If I’m too much, go find less.” 

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum 

The number of hours in my day

Looking back on the reflections I’ve recently shared here since turning age 70 reveals a consistent content emphasizing my old man age and the dwindling time I have left to live.  I suppose this is natural for older folks.  My yesteryear mantra that gave birth to my blogging journey of “Every man who looks in a mirror sees a 16-year-old kid” is a ship that has sailed. 

 

But I wouldn’t say I’m obsessed with this eventuality, only that I ponder it a bit more than in the past.  There are pearls of wisdom doing so, and I hope that doing this pondering yields me a bucket of them. 

 

I now also keep a page of sayings that I’ve accumulated having this older man awareness.  I jot them down when coming across them, ones that I read about created by others, and ones that I create, calling them my own.  My sayings page consists of short old man wisdom utterances that I refer to from time to time; they also give me new blogging content ideas.  I look forward to adding to my sayings collection as time goes on. 

 

This will keep me honest with easy access reminders that I’ve lived more life than the life I have left to live. 

 

This awareness resonates best with me when numbers are involved because I’m a numbers guy. Like my recent saying, one I recently created that “the number of years remaining in my life is likely a smaller number than the number of hours in my day.” 

 

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum 

How young we were

 

A recent conversation with Mrs. Pierini Fitness took both of us down a long-ago memory lane, the time we met.  We both spent time sharing our recollection of that “historical event” along with our thoughts and feelings about it.  It was a conscious effort by both of us, spending quality time dwelling, reflecting and sharing, not rushing through the process, and learning if new thoughts and feelings would arise from the original ones, we faintly recall having almost 50 years ago.  I guess the time spent doing this lasted almost 45 minutes. 

 

Thoughts are easy to recollect for Pierini Fitness, but feelings are slower to recognize and acknowledge; you know, it’s a guy thing.  Mrs. Pierini Fitness, on the other hand, has no problem with either, so this dialogue had an ebb and flow of reflective duh-pauses from me and triggered fast contributions from her.  Regardless, it was a healthy experience, one that I enjoyed, and one that I look forward to doing again but next time for a different historical moment. 

 

The takeaway mood during our discussion can be expressed in these lyrics of a song sung by Mary Hopkin in 1968, eight years before we met: 

 

“Those were the days, my friend 
We thought they'd never end 
We'd sing and dance forever and a day 
We'd live the life we choose 
We'd fight and never lose 
Those were the days, oh yes, those were the days.” 
 

Additionally, the final takeaway was best summarized by Mrs. Pierini Fitness, who commented that we didn’t know how young we were. 

Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum