Friday, January 2, 2015

Too old.

Sometimes, I get sad when I realize that I'm "too old" for all the fantastical things in life. All the magic and fairy tales happen to people when they're children, teens, or young adults. I don't have a letter from Hogwarts to look forward to, Peter Pan would never visit me. I'm too old to start Jedi training, too suspicious to be taken in by fairy lies or crafty promises. Mysterious beings don't cross my path, and magic seems to have trickled away. Heroes prefer pretty, impressionable young things, and there is a dearth of thrones to take over or countries to save. I'm too poor to be eccentric, too creaky to be a ninja, and goodness knows I'm tried to find a million hidden talents, to no avail.

It seems kind of bleak now and then.

And then I realize that I've made my own magic.

I learn languages for fun so I can travel and talk to people way outside my comfort zone.
I study so I can improve myself and help others, and hopefully find a place I can do the most good.
I grow things in my garden just for fun, to feel life unfurling.
When I hit a block, where things don't work, I sidestep and try more things (don't quit!).
I started weightlifting to keep my strength and agility as I get older.
I try to smile at everyone, because there have been days when a stranger's smile saved me.

I may not be able to wave a wand, or use the force, or summon minions, or conquer nations. I may never ride a broom, fly with the birds, or swim in the ocean deeps. I will probably live an expected human lifespan, never jump through time, pet dragons, or play with the fairies.

But I guess, in the end, I'll do what I can. As long as I never stop trying, it will be enough.