A friend of mine had a post on Facebook this past week, about a study that claims the "happiest" age is thirty-three. It went on to state that you were finished making big mistakes, and knew more about life.
Yep, I felt like that when I was thirty-three. I really did. I had everything figured out and was sure my days would be error free. Then my late thirties came along, punched me in the gut for a few years, and sent me out the other side broken, but much happier. Happier in the knowledge that I don't know shit. Happier that I can accept that I will make mistakes, but also knowing that I've made so many I will recognize the wrong path sometimes and catch myself before it happens.
I may have mentioned this before, but it bears repeating. I once asked a ninety year old lady to please tell me that at some point we figure "it" all out. You aren't going to like the answer she gave me. I didn't like the answer she gave me. "No honey, no. Some things you do, but for the most part, no." I asked her why she couldn't have just lied. :)
So last night some of us (most of them are around the magic age of thirty-three) were discussing this, and as the "crone" (for you smart asses out there that means wise) of the group I pointed out to their smiling "yes we have it all figured out" faces, that there is no magic age where we are happiest. That will differ for everyone, and how can you know what it is until your final, or later days?
For me, thirty-three was alright. I was a smarty pants, but not terribly happy. I am much happier now, that's for sure. Will I look back and say that forty-two was the happiest year of my life? Well, so far no, but I'm always hopeful. I like to think that my happiest years are still ahead of me. What my Mom used to say, "Life is what you make it." is about the only knowledge I have to impart. She was right.
Who knows? Maybe someday I will be sitting in a rocker on my front porch looking back on this being the happiest time of my life. Maybe I wont be rocking alone, and THAT will be the happiest time of my life. I'm not going to worry about it, I'm just going to enjoy the journey.
Yep, I felt like that when I was thirty-three. I really did. I had everything figured out and was sure my days would be error free. Then my late thirties came along, punched me in the gut for a few years, and sent me out the other side broken, but much happier. Happier in the knowledge that I don't know shit. Happier that I can accept that I will make mistakes, but also knowing that I've made so many I will recognize the wrong path sometimes and catch myself before it happens.
I may have mentioned this before, but it bears repeating. I once asked a ninety year old lady to please tell me that at some point we figure "it" all out. You aren't going to like the answer she gave me. I didn't like the answer she gave me. "No honey, no. Some things you do, but for the most part, no." I asked her why she couldn't have just lied. :)
So last night some of us (most of them are around the magic age of thirty-three) were discussing this, and as the "crone" (for you smart asses out there that means wise) of the group I pointed out to their smiling "yes we have it all figured out" faces, that there is no magic age where we are happiest. That will differ for everyone, and how can you know what it is until your final, or later days?
For me, thirty-three was alright. I was a smarty pants, but not terribly happy. I am much happier now, that's for sure. Will I look back and say that forty-two was the happiest year of my life? Well, so far no, but I'm always hopeful. I like to think that my happiest years are still ahead of me. What my Mom used to say, "Life is what you make it." is about the only knowledge I have to impart. She was right.
Who knows? Maybe someday I will be sitting in a rocker on my front porch looking back on this being the happiest time of my life. Maybe I wont be rocking alone, and THAT will be the happiest time of my life. I'm not going to worry about it, I'm just going to enjoy the journey.
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