In a 1927, Reverend Clarence H. Wilson of the Brooklyn Flatbush Congregational Church in his Sunday sermon encouraged his congregation to adapt a youthful perspective.
“We make ourselves old by keeping a tally of the years. How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are? Properly, a man is as old as he feels. . . . Birthdays are an annoyance and a delusion.”
I am thirty-three. I like birthdays because there’s cake. Thinking about my real age doesn’t annoy me, it shocks me. I have the attitudes, beliefs, and enthusiasm of being around thirty-three but am also at peace with what I’ve accomplished in life and care little about what people think, which comes with older age. I think I am the best of two age groups. I don’t try and think young, I just don’t know differently because that’s how I feel. The drugs help, but I’ll get to that.
I have been operating at age thirty-three for thirty-six years now. Actually, it’s been longer than that because I remember feeling thirty-three at twenty-four. Hike!
Speaking of hiking, hiking in Spain is the twist in the plot of me believing I’m thirty-three. Having participated in a challenging week of hiking a year before I was ready to, was myth busting. (Let me know if you can say “myth busting” five times fast).
I planned on conditioning myself for the seven to twelve miles a day outlined in the trip itinerary several months ahead of time. Oops.
I had a surplus of endorphins ecstatically dancing in my unready body from the colossal beauty and the consequent cardio of climbing hills for hours, but because I wasn’t in good enough shape, those feel-good hormones were muting my alarm system. Despite skipping the afternoon hikes in lieu of not injuring myself, I hurt myself anyway in rigorous four hour morning hikes. I know this because I’m still limping three weeks later.
My thirty-three year old mentality thought, “I’ve got this.”
“No, no, you didn’t have it,” says my self that feels eighty-nine and currently has her leg iced, compressed, and elevated.
Sometimes we don’t got this.
I ironically injured my left Achilles’ tendon. Greek Mythology tells us that Achilles' Heel is a metaphor for a person's vulnerability even in the midst of otherwise great strength. I have achieved great emotional strength from enduring the hand I was dealt early in life, but it didn’t come with a special bonus supply of physical strength awarded without conditioning.
My vulnerability was being eager to get the most out of my beautiful vacation, but ignoring my limitations.
Honor your limitations but don’t let them ruin your day.
Feeling thirty-three has kept me doing the work I love, planning more creative projects, loving life with vitality, and being active mentally and creatively with no intention on stopping. I do walk five miles a day (when I’m not limping), frequently swim a mile, and am prone to dance the night away, but disregarding my real age during demanding week-long daily ten-mile hikes was beyond my delusional capabilities.
I’m pretty sure some thirty-three year olds may have experienced similar soreness if they hiked long strenuous trails without being ready, but I was reminded I can’t automatically be in shape without hard work beforehand like some younger people can. It’s humbling, but I’ve reframed it as another occasion for practicing self-kindness. I have many occasions for such practice.
I find cultivating self-compassion has a greater benefit to the rest of my life than feelings of disappointment, inadequacy, and stupidity. In fact, self-kindness is keeping me young because not only does self-condemnation age people, but self-compassion, practiced with robust sincerity, boosts dopamine and endorphins - neurotransmitters in the brain that give us feelings of well-being, and cause the pleasure centers in our brain to light up. Those are my drugs of choice, they keep me young.
I’m just about to light up from the comfort of my couch… won’t you join me?
Pass the kindness, bogart it for a while if you need to.
Kindness in general:
Acts of kindness toward others help increase serotonin levels, leading to feelings of happiness, reducing symptoms of depression, anxiety, and pain.
Kindness is contagious. Witnessing or receiving an act of kindness can inspire others to pay it forward, creating a positive ripple effect throughout communities. I’ve noticed more than any other social media platform, that there is a lot of kindness circulating on Substack. (Join me there, it's free unless you're in the mood to support my work, either way, I'm happy to have you.) We need kindness all the time, but right now it seems particularly crucial.
In kindness and birthday cake,
Jill
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