I'm thinking tonight about how we change over time. A friend gave me a letter I'd written to her 42 years ago, and I was amazed at how full of energy and optimism and sheer joie de vivre it was. What happened since then?
Partly, life. Things have gone wrong; the high hopes I had then have been dashed. Partly, a growing cynicism about life and mankind. I was an optimist, then. Partly just being worn out. Confectus aetate, the Romans called it--worn out by age. Loneliness. I've lost touch with dear friends, and some of them have died. I miss them. Making new close friends at my age is hard.
To me, now, the vibrant enthusiasm for life of me forty years ago seems both tiresome and absurd. How to regain that youthful liveliness? Is it possible? Can I go back to the mental state I enjoyed then? My body has aged, and I know that can't be reversed. But my mind and my character remain. Somehow I must regain the full-on optimism and hope that I had then. But how?
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