Nineteen thousand six hundred twenty seven

That's how many days I've been on the planet as of this moment; well, at least this go round. 19,627 days. Seems like a very small number compared to the billions of years the planet has been around, ya know? So I got to thinking: how come people get so fired up about their "age". I mean, what does it have to do with anything? Seems to me, this whole 'linear time' thing is pretty screwy; and quite illusory. How do you explain the mystery of time 'flying' when you're having fun, but seemingly standing still when you're not? How do you explain memories of the perfect sunset, of which every detail is clearly visible in your mind, even years later and then not being able to remember what you had for dinner last night? How do you explain getting from point A to point B with no recollection of the roads that carried you there but not being able to miss a single detail of that walk through the woods with your favorite person or critter (or even by yourself)?

The whole concept of time is completely lost on me. I can no longer 'guess' a person's age. When someone asks me, "how old do you think I am?", I immediately get that icky feeling that it's a trick question. More often than not I will ask a question back instead of answering theirs. I am NOT goin' there. I get it too. People ask me (how old I am) and I always say, "depends on how you define 'old'". Because from my perspective, 19,627 days is NOT old. And isn't it always about perspective? I mean, if you ran into someone who was 110 years old (which would be 40,177 days 'old', if they were born today in the year 1901), you might think they were old, but they might not. They might see the whole time thing as a mere logistic for folks who need to measure such things. Then again, it would depend on how they feel in their skin, wouldn't you think?

Any way you look at it, time is tricky. Age is just one more thing humans use to calculate judgments. One more thing to "label" those around them {and themselves too}. If you're this age, you have the right to....(insert legality here). If you're this age, you should "be respected". If you're this age, you can wear purple hats and red shawls and ain't nobody gonna say a word about it. So it seems that "age" gives us rights in some fashion or other. But what if you're one of those people who just knew, right from the start, that it was all a bunch of hooey? What if one day you 'feel' like you're 200 years old and the next day you feel like you're 22? How do you explain that?

I'm thinking it's all pretty silly. I don't really care about how 'old' or 'young' somebody is; what I care about is whether or not, on THIS day, they are kind and compassionate toward all their fellow beings. All the rest is about as interesting to me as an empty can of gasoline. I sure ain't gonna git me anywhere.

Now...for this next trip 'round the sun....