The Most Powerful Weapon on Earth is the Human Soul on Fire

I don’t look my age. I never have. It is common to have jaws drop when I reveal my true age to anyone. Just because I look younger doesn't mean that the ageing process has stopped for me. I bring this up because I've been thinking about mortality lately, and what ageing actually means. Maybe it's because of the recent celebrity passings, and while I do know I still have plenty of good years in me, there are people out there dealing with illness, some terminal, and it just has me thinking.

While the body ages, the spirit stays young. That's how I've always lived.

I know I don’t dress my age. I live in jeans and fitted tees littered with random childish sayings, or comic book characters, and even ones that proudly display my allegiance to certain bands. I still wear junior sized clothing, and on occasion even shop in junior specific stores. I am in no way trying to appear younger than I am. The clothes fit and suit my personality. Where I purchase my clothes seems irrelevant.

I am comfortable with my reflection in the mirror. I work hard to keep my body toned. I run daily. I lift weights. I even try to eat reasonably healthy meals, though my sweet tooth does negate my attempts at cleaner eating. I'll never give up dessert, but that is an indulgence, and I do work hard in other areas to allow for these treats.

I am young at heart, despite my age. I have not grown out of the things I loved in my childhood.

I still twirl in dresses, play in the rain, and laugh at the sun. I still have a fondness for dandelions because of a memory; I strongly associate them with my father. I make wishes on stars. I watch cartoons and read comic books. I still have my favorite video games that I can play over and over again and never get bored. I can play for hours and not even think about the time as it slips by. I play childhood games with my niece and nephews. It never occurs to me that I am too old for any of these things, though some might say that I am.

Sometimes, when there is nothing but silence, I can hear the internal tick of my clock, but I ignore it. On occasion, I can feel an old injury sneaking up on me. I can feel a pain in my joints, little things that remind me that I'm getting older, but they're so subtle, that I often don't think about them. I haven't been diagnosed with a major illness, but I have a family history, and when I look at it, I remind myself there is always a chance, regardless of what good care I take of myself.

When I perish, that is in fates hands, and there is very little I can do about it. Instead, I try to live my life as happily as possible.

I still run, and will do so until the day I can no longer run. I still love to blast out music whilst I am writing, or doing almost anything. As long as I am not hurting anyone, I don't think it matters how I live or what I like.

What I am saying is that while I am young at heart, I am also realistic that time does in fact march forward, and I'm just trying to live the best possible life while I am here.