Spice baby. Spice.

It seems that I never get my chronological age right. In my head….I am about 27 years of age. So when people ask me how old I am…. I am inclined to say just that. But then I have to go through the fuzzy math of 27 plus…. oh.. at least another 25 years…. and then I blurt out some obscure number which is typically incorrect.

So now I am embarrassed, and I have to go back to my birth year, and subtract it from the current year… once I figure out what year we are in.   It seems like a whole lotta’ trouble for a number.

The truth of the matter is, I am happier to be this age, at this very moment, then I have been at any other age…..my entire life. Oh sure, I am not the hot, young chick I used to… …..b, buhhhh…. .. uhhh… well… here’s the deal. I really never WAS a hot, young chick. Not even close.   Heck… not even when I was an egg in the ovary.  Maybe that’s why I don’t mind garnering gray hair and wrinkles at this point.

It is funny, you know you are lacking in the “beauty” department, when your own mother says….”Honey. You are SO smart and funny. And just remember, it is what’s on the INSIDE that counts.” Good one Mom.

At any rate. We all look at age differently. I considered the actual word itself, and saw that it is pretty pliable when it comes to the “definition” game. Just add a letter or two to the front and you have the whole gamut of “age attitudes toward how we live our lives.”

Age. The length of time that a person has lived (or a thing has existed).

Add a “C” – some people think of it as a series of monumental passages.  They move through one predefined cubicle to the next.   The Teenage 13. Sweet 16. Freedom at 18. Legal at 21. The Dreaded 30. And 40. The Big 50. The Oh-Oh 60. And on… and on. Yep. Every year (or decade) is like a “Cage”…. bound by the bars of the “stigma” with each sequential flip.

Put a “P” on the front – and it becomes “Page”. Their lives are like a book, flipping one day to another, turning each page with excitement, and purpose. A clear plot. Well defined characters.  An adventure.  A mystery.  A romance.  Yes, a well orchestrated novel.  And chapter after chapter it flows.

Unfortunately, some affix an “R” to the front. They live their every day with an underlying “Rage” about most everything.  Anger, regret, disappointment, prejudice, intolerance…  so many causes for the angry fires that burn  within.  I wish them peace.

Next comes “W”  The “Wage”. For some, it is having to conduct each day, from paycheck to paycheck, making ends meet. Struggling to get by monetarily, with no end in sight. And then there are others who have good and plenty… but they just can’t seem to get enough. More work. More and more money. More and more.  Or…. less and less.

Double up a couple of letters. “ST” makes “Stage” – the people who “act” their way through life… never finding authenticity or true purpose in anything.  Life is a stage and all the people are players.  No “Sincerely Yours.”  Not ever.  No verity.

And now… some of my favorites.

Engage. Those who become truly involved in life.  They cherish it and participate in its every minute.  Good living.

Courage. I am amazed at the people who approach life with this quality. I have met more than a few. I bow with respect for you now.

Encourage. They hearten us. Cheer us. Help us along and inspire us. Again, I humbly thank you.

And finally. Sage. The wise, learned, clever, and intelligent. They show thoughtful and insightful perspectives… which also inspire. They have their compass set toward the Good North, I’ll tell you.  Yes indeed.

I’ll probably never find the distinction of Sage.  But that is okay.
Mostly, I am just…… oregano…. at best.   But it is good oregano on the inside.   And that is what counts.

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