Adult life and proper boots
Age. The final frontier.
Ok, maybe not the exact quote but let's be honest: we all think about age a lot. The age we are, the “age we lost”, the age we want to reach.
And how and where and with whom.
I wrote about age before when my dear self-talk considered me too old to party “as we used to”.
Get a night, pay a day, I told you.
Don't worry, George, I'm not re-opening this discussion. Or at least not exactly that one. Today I want to talk about moments when I do what you did: Accusing others of not acting/behaving their age.
What now: not acting or not behaving their age?
Ironic, I act like you and you start to think like me. Let's look at both.
Not acting your age
This was the impulse I had: A friend was acting silly which I called out as “acting like a child”. Not disappointed nor disapproving, but yet there seemed to exist a negative part that stuck with me (and triggered this post). What exactly was my problem?
Feeling like a snobby adult, not granting someone else a little bit of freedom?
Maybe yes, it could have been jealously about a feeling I couldn't share in that moment.
Not behaving your age
Perhaps I got them mixed up. I observed not acting one's age and judged it like not behaving one's age.
Nothing but wordplay on a fine line, isn't it? If you don't behave your age, you don't act your age, either.
This doesn't result in the opposite way, George. You can behave your age without acting your age. If you indulge in fun in a wise and responsible manner: You behave like an adult, no matter what you do.
Jump through puddle of rains, when you wear your wellington boots, don't make anyone wet, and have a good cup of tea at home to not get sick... sounds pretty adult to me!
Living your age
Then what is worse? Not living your age is bad. Maybe judging others for how they do it is even worse.
People talk about which advice they would give to their 10-year-old self.
But what advice would they receive?
My 10-year-old self most definitely would invite me to join in on the fun and jump into that puddle. And it probably wouldn't blame me for wearing some wellington boots, just in case.
Next post: “The good old days of tomorrow”
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