Saturday, February 27, 2016

Mindset Readjustment

Class ends at 12:00 noon and Tony will be waiting to wisk me away to the slopes.

The computers are locked away, desks are almost empty, and by 12:04 I'm running for the door. We are hurrying to meet our friends at the Red Pine Gondola by 1:15. That leaves us with three hours of half day skiing on a beautiful, sunny day with friends we haven't seen in seven years.

We make it in perfect timing, even after having to stop and purchase forgotten sunglasses.

We see our friends! A little gray-er, but young and fit as ever. They hail from Santa Cruz California where they surf, windsurf, kayak, bike and you name the sport, they participate. This is their fifth day skiing, and on the drive to Park City, they stopped in Zion's National Park to hike an 8 miler and a 7 miler.

Though Tony and I are physical, speaking for myself only, the above schedule would have wiped me out.

Yet, would it have?

During dinner, Tony makes the mistake as referring to our selves as old.

"Funny," our friend interjects, "I don't see myself in that way."

"Neither do I," says the 64 year old woman who looks and acts like she's 30. She is the friend of our friends who also hails from Santa Cruz and has also been skiing every day for the past five days.

Then why do we? Feel old, that is.

We have an open and honest discussion about this and we all determine the reason we feel old and they don't is because we have children and grandchildren. Our friends and the friends of our friends, are both childless.

Yet, it's not what I seemed to imply. Our children and grandchildren have not made us old--if anything the joy and love keeps us young. The difference is in the measurement. When we watch our children grow and become adults, when our oldest grandson turns 12, there is no denial that we are moving up the age ladder. We are becoming older.

Inspired by our friends, we decide to make a paradigm shift. We have a nice little talk on the way home and remind ourselves that we are what we think.

So this morning when we are still in bed at 8:36 and our bones and muscles feel tired from a half-day of skiing, instead of Tony's usual lament Oh I'm old, he exclaims with youthful vigor, "Oh I am young!"

And so it is how we will think, until we believe (or until proven otherwise).