Coming of Age

As expected, and as I knew would probably happen, my paradigm has shifted. My advanced age no longer seems a constraint, rather it feels more like a reward. I have navigated the perils of youth and the vicissitudes of life to stand with the other aged beings, the sequoias, the whales. Ancient creatures, each of our own species, living to the fullest according to our design.

I think my shift snapped into place as I stood on the side of a mountain after visiting Zapata Falls. I was looking out across the San Luis Valley to see the Sangre de Cristo Range and the Great Sand Dunes National monument. It reminded me of other views I’ve had from Guadalupe Peak and the South Rim of the Chisos Mountains in Big Bend, all gained in the latter half of my seventh decade. Fine sights for an old man to see, and a nice reward for having kept my nose to the grindstone for so long.

Now, I’m looking up and out. Surveying the landscape. Like a redwood standing tall in the forest, or a great whale moving slowly through endless oceans. I’m dragging my time alive behind me like a long train. I think of things I’ve seen, and things yet to see. I’m feeling what must be ancient rhythms only the aged can feel, knowing time in an intimate way. Savoring it, for all that it’s given, while knowing without fear there will come a day when my roots will give way and I’ll fall to the ground or my heart will stop and I’ll sink to the bottom of the sea where everything of which I’m made can go their separate ways.