Rust, Rot, or Ripen?

As I reach this bend in the river, I pass the milestone marking the onset of my ninth decade. At this juncture, one faces a choice in aging between rusting, rotting, and ripening. If we rust, a kind of emotional and spiritual rigidity takes hold. We turn inward, fearful of losing those capabilities we once took for granted. If we rot, we are beset by regrets at what we failed to do when we still could. If, on the other hand, we choose to ripen, we drop our demands on life and let our hearts open wide to new experiences. We discover that all we once struggled to achieve finally bears fruit in its own time and fashion.

Think of how a blackberry yields its fruit. If I try to pick it too soon, it resists my pull, pricking my finger with its thorns. If I pick it too late, the act of picking crushes it, leaving my fingers stained and the berry bleeding its juices. If, on the other hand, I pluck it when it’s perfectly ripe, it yields itself freely, a gift to both of us. As a young man, I never imagined that life could be as sweet as it has turned out to be. There’s no telling what tomorrow may bring. But in this passing moment, my heart brims with appreciation for all that is still worth cherishing.