One of my best friends ever, Judy Diebolt, without a word of explanation, sent me a link to a New York Times think piece that said something or other about “being too old for this (or that). . .”
My first thought was, I really don’t want to hear about some writer waxing nostalgic or philosophical or pop-psychy about age and dealing with it.
Then I clicked and the instant I saw the byline, Dominique Browning, I knew it would be worth reading and worth heeding.
Decades ago when I first discovered her and her delicate, intelligent, beautiful, creative writing, I became a Dominique Browning groupie. We have never met, although we do have mutual friends.
If you missed what she had to say about using “I’m too old for that” as a way to enjoy and get on with life I thought it would be a perfect Sunday read.
I perfectly related to her observations of constantly finding faults with ourselves, I’m a master of the exercise. Looking at old photographs of ourselves when we weren’t pleased or frankly disappointed about some aspect of our appearance is the best (and worst) way we can prove that we were oh, so wrong. We’re too old for all of that now.
We’re just fine, maybe better than fine just the way we are now. The next time you look in a mirror, look directly into your eyes and you’ll see that you are beautiful.