Just too old for experiments. For being “wild”. For ignoring my “who I am”. That’s good. That means I am no longer willing to take whatever comes my way, which would eventually eat at me, at my substance. That means I am no longer willing to reach out for experience at any cost, which again means I finally know there are limits to experiments and there are consequences to forgetting who I am.
But that of course is so stabbingly limiting too.
The feeling, looking at a rope you would have deftly walked on and now seeing clearly you just can’t and won’t attempt to walk it!
I unconsciously – or consciously! – set up tests for the people who come near me. And as they fail I cry with their failure. I pray in the process “please be up to it”. And then it’s losing again – they lose, I lose.