Getting older. It’s been interesting. My metabolism has decreased. It’s harder to multitask and to remember my to-do’s without a list. I can’t eat what I used to, and I don’t feel as strong. But the greatest change has been unexpected.
I realized just this week that age has made me kind of…weary. I used to have a sense, an innate intuition that people were good, and most people want to do what’s right. I used to firmly believe that when people were unkind or selfish, it was out of fear or ignorance or insecurity. I thought if I could understand people, for the most part, I could see their goodness.
I still believe this often. However,…
Every once in a while, I encounter a person who is just not good. He might enjoy one-upping others. She might find it funny when others are suffering simply because she’s not.
These people throw me off my game. I can’t anticipate their next move. I can’t empathize with them because I can’t think the way they do. I don’t even want to. But I see them win and pummel good people in their way, and it makes me angry. And weary.
I knew that aging would mean gray hair and flabby arms. But I did not anticipate this sadness at the ugly side of humanity.
I look at my parents. They are in their 80’s and are so zen about life. They live in the now, and they see the ugliness, but they get past it, and they don’t let it get to them.
I look forward to that next stage.