Older, Wiser & Happier

I have often been told that I am old before my time. My teenage years of working behind counters and bars gifted me with the abaility to make small talk with just about anyone, ironically leaving me feeling more equipped to talk to someone in their 70s than to someone of my own age. When my book first hit the shelves, people kindly remarked that I was an “old head on young shoulders”.

It’s funny how, as teenagers, we crave to be mistaken as older, and we relish the thought of passing for 18, and getting served a pint prematurely. On the contrary, you then have people in their late twenties/early thirties yearning for their 21st birthday, and I have often wondered, where is that threshold in between? Where does the desire switch?

Personally, I don’t exactly know what age I am “mentally”. I know that I’m old fashioned, and that I’m “old before my time”, but I don’t know what my “mental age” is. What I do know however, is that with every year that passes, my physical age gets closer to my mental age, and this convergence has brought with it great peace and harmony.

I turned 26 recently, and it has caused me to reflect on this matter even more. I once read this great phrase:

“The young man will take a pile of timber, and pledge to build a staircase to the moon. The older man will take that same pile of timber and build a garden shed”

I find that absolutely beautiful. In our youth, we want to conquer the world, but as we mature, we begin to realise the things that our most important to us – our peace, our fulfillment, and our passions. When I first became a public speaker, I had a vision board plastered with milestones, numbers, and tangible, quantitative targets. Numbers of books sold, numerical sizes of audiences, tv and talk shows that I aspired to be a guest on. As I reflect now, a little older and wiser, I recognise that same ambition in myself, although it has had time to marinate. We have gone from a flash-fry approach to a slow roast.

I still have endless aspirations as a public speaker, an author, an engineer, and as a providor to friends and family, but those aspirations have become more fine-tuned, more focused, and more refined. As a mental health advocate, I have learned to value quality over quantity. I would love to speak to an audience of 50,000 people, who wouldnt?! But I have also realised that I can make an impact no matter how big or small the crowd, no matter how many viewers, readers or listeners. I started this journey with the aspiration to help the one in ten, the one in a hundred, the person sitting in the corner, the person on the fringes. Thankfully, by the Grace of whatever God is up there, I have had the privilege to do that to some degree of success thus far.

Most importantly, I’ve learned that the most beautiful part of this, or any journey for that matter, is the growth we experience along the way. The older I get, the more I realise that it’s not the achievements or external validation that make us feel good. It’s not the pay rise, or the degree, or the promotion, but rather it’s the person we become along the way. It’s the improvements and the marginal gains, it’s the ability to go back to the places where you fell down, or felt overwhelmed, or failed, with a smile on your face knowing that win, lose or draw, you have given it your all along the way.

It’s a privilege to be able to grow, and move forward, and to reflect on how far we have come. Take a breath, put on the kettle, and give yourself a pat on the back for all you have done thus far. We don’t do it half often enough.

Happy Wednesday lads,
Conor