I never get used to how old all my childhood heroes look right now.

If they’re still alive, that is.

Actors, singers, athletes, public figures: nowadays they all seem so dented and scratched by life.

Tired faces, worn-out bodies.

What happened?

To them, and to me?

Yeah.

Of course I also never really get used to seeing my own body and face, for the same reason.

Aging.

Wrinkling.

Sagging.

Breaking down.

Falling apart.

And yet…

How can I see the decay and decline, and still feel so fresh?

How can I feel SO young and alive, and not look the part?

It’s so obvious, to me at least, that there’s a really important element in all of this that doesn’t get older.

And it’s so clear that many people don’t acknowledge that.

What gets older is the body, the face, the ideas, and the stories.

What gets older is everything out there.

Or at least it all has a linear quality.

But what’s looking out of your eyes hasn’t aged a day since your body was born.

To me, that can be very confusing, at least sometimes.

I’m deeply in touch with that non-changing, natural power that exists beyond any change and thing and creature, and the discrepancy between its utter freshness and agelessness, and all the things that come from form, is absolutely astounding.

Whether you call it soul or divine intelligence or consciousness doesn’t matter of course.

It’s there even if you’d like to deny it.

WE don’t see it, but it sees for us, with us, and through us.

We can’t find it, ever, because the person we believe to be is surrounded by it, infused with it, and brought to life by it, while it’s totally invisible.

We can’t smell it and we can’t touch it, but it helps us smell and makes us touch.

We can’t ever describe it accurately, yet it allows all the space we want to try it anyway.

Something never gets old, never weakens, never breaks.

It’s closer than our bodies, and more dependable than anything we can ever think.

Have you met it, lately?

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(Photo by @cdc, for Unsplash)