“If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that’s a full day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special.” — Jim Valvano
The Difference a Half Century Makes
A perfect day at 24 and at 74 is like two different worlds. In one I would be rafting down the Colorado, and making mad, passionate love under the stars with a soul mate that night.
In the other, I would be happy to have just met my writing goal for the day and to have learned or seen something new.
Watching an awesome pink and purple sunrise and a fiery orange and red sunset would be included in both worlds, however, as would be a good book to read, a nice stiff Jack and Coke (well it would have been a Virgin Coke in the first world because I didn’t drink until I was 37) before a gourmet dinner that someone else cooked.
A perfect day would also include feeling loved, which is easy at 74 but was nigh impossible at 24.
The truth is I’ve had many days I would consider perfect – and the closer to 74 I became the more abundant they’ve become. Hmmmmm?
Sure it would be grand to tackle the Mighty Colorado through the Grand Canyon as the lead paddler in a six-person raft once again, but that’s something I’ve had to accept my 74-year-old body isn’t up to doing.
The end of all my days on the river were all perfect days, but for some odd reason I find today’s mellower activities have a way of leaving me content and satisfied with my life in a way that I never was at 24.