I’m Getting Too Old For This Shit
I turned 32 today.
It’s been nearly ten years since I’ve graduated college.
I have less strength, less energy, less hormones, and less hair than I did a decade ago.
My little brother who I held in my arms as a newborn baby when I was 12 years old is now a sophomore in college and president of his fraternity.
I used to listen to music on cassette tapes, make phone calls on pay phones, and send messages to girlfriends on beepers.
Many of my friends are married or in serious relationships. I’m starting to become “Uncle Mike” to dozens of kids all over the country.
I haven’t owned furniture in over a year. I’m still living out of a couple of suitcases and wherever my 2011 Toyota Camry takes me. And I just spent a month partying with my friends across four countries. I essentially live the life of a 19 year old.
I’m getting too old for this shit. Right?
But wait… what if that’s just another lie?
Just another excuse to not step into my greatness. Just another cop-out from doing something that scares me. And just another story to keep me safe, comfortable and ultimately unfulfilled.
Tim and Nina Zagat were corporate lawyers in their forties when they first started printing their restaurant guides. In September 2011, they sold their little company to Google for $151 million.
Ronald Reagan wasn’t elected to his first public office until he was 55 years old. When he won California’s gubernatorial race in 1966, nothing on his resume made him look like the next two-term President of the United States.
Harland “Colonel” Sanders didn’t become the chicken mogul we know and love until he was 65. After his single restaurant and motel in Corbin, KY started to fail, he started touring the country selling Kentucky Fried Chicken franchises and sold the business a decade later for $2 million with over 900 locations.
And Anna Mary Robertson Moses, better known as Grandma Moses, was one of the biggest names in American folk art despite never picking up a brush until she was well into her seventies. She was 76 when she began painting and she lived as a painter for another 25 years, watching some of her canvases increase in price from $3 to $10,000.
They didn’t believe the lie of “I’m too old for this.” They just started.
What if instead of saying “I’m too old,” we all replaced it with “I’m the perfect age” instead?
Here, I’ll go first.
I’m the perfect age to be taking huge risks.
I’m the perfect age to be starting a business.
I’m the perfect age to be traveling the world.
I’m the perfect age to still be making mistakes.
I’m the perfect age to be single and without children.
I’m the perfect age to not be contributing to my 401k.
I’m the perfect age to go out dancing until the wee hours of the morning.
And I’m the perfect age to be experimenting with what works and what doesn’t work in my life.
I’m the perfect age for this shit.
There, that feels much better. So what are YOU the perfect age for?