Witness the majestic redwood tree. We don’t call it old. We marvel at its height.
Maya Angelou’s book, “Letter To My Daughter,” poignantly suggests,
“I am convinced that most people do not grow up. We find parking spaces and honor our credit cards. We marry and dare to have children and call that growing up. I think what we do is mostly grow old. We carry the accumulation of years in our bodies and on our faces, but generally our real selves, the children inside, are still innocent and shy as magnolias.”
If only we could equate growing with glowing, radiantly projecting the health and wisdom of a tall tree. Today’s young people talk about “glowing up” when someone shows a physical and mental transformation often associated with puberty. Maybe after age 50, we’re “glowing up” when we show emotional and spiritual transformation?