I’m 63 today.
Feeling more like 6, maybe even 3.
Vulnerable, yet invincible.
Excited, yet introverted.
Old, yet never felt younger.
And I feel entitled to tell folks the secret of life.
But life hides no secret.
It’s like the pots in this picture.
You shape your pot the way you like.
There’s no perfect shape
or a perfect pot
A bit of everything: solid clay, water, and fire.
In the right proportion.
Life, like pottery, is about balance, contrasts–
solid outside, hollow inside.
It is fragile, like a pot.
But when it crashes and breaks, you can carefully mend it.
Or break it down and build another pot.
Everybody above fifty is a mended pot.
Everything is alright.
Just enjoy building your pot.