2020 looks impressive. It certainly has a fluidity as a time marker. I do have a bit of a problem fixing myself now, in this time. Speaking the number and visualizing my past, in the broader historical picture, confounds. What the number really implies is I'm as old as the hills. When I'm out and about in polite society, of which there is very little, I realize begrudgingly, a good many were only born in this century. Century, another time concept to ponder. But what am I talking about. Time. The difficulty is relevance. Youth of this century, with accelerated changes, and narrow focus, can't and don't relate to the links of the past. Here is where I question my relevance. Only because the experiences of my long life journey, applied in a historical context, were significantly influenced by monumental events. Monumental to me. Here's the rub, and I'm sure it's common to all, those events which marked my time so profoundly, are meaningless to most of today's youth. Where does that leave me? I try to keep pace. But as my role in life's drama continues to diminish, and I'm relegated to staring and comparing, I continue to redefine my relevance in time. I'm not complaining mind you, I'm just feeling self-conscious about the obvious changes to grapple with while growing older. So 2020 comes into view not so much with my touchstones, but with those of my offspring. I'm grateful.
Happy New Year!
