As I grow older, I’ve come to understand that life has a peculiar way of teaching us lessons.
You begin by believing that you know it all and somewhere along the way, you discover that you know a great deal less than you thought. By quite some margin. Wisdom, it seems, isn’t about being all-knowing. It’s about admitting there’s still plenty to learn. One of the most delightful sources of such education has been the company of younger people.
Now, if you’re anything like me, there’s a moment in your forties or fifties, when the prospect of hanging out with someone two decades younger sounds more exhausting than exhilarating. After all, they’re busy downloading apps that you’ve never heard of, wearing trainers that cost more than your car insurance (although admittedly not theirs) and tossing around phrases like ‘that slaps,’ which apparently has nothing to do with actual slapping. But here’s the thing – surrounding yourself with younger people might just be the secret ingredient to keeping your spirit as sprightly as your lower back once was. Even with all that yoga and pilates.
Firstly, let’s talk about energy. Not the kind that comes in cans or is measured in decibels (although young folk seem to have an unholy amount of both). No, I mean a kind of kinetic zest for life, reminding you that the world still holds endless possibilities. When you’re older, it’s easy to fall into routines that dull the edges of your curiosity. You know what you like, you know where you like to go and that’s…well, comfortable. But young people have a knack for lobbing a firecracker of novelty into your carefully curated existence.
Last year, my godson dragged me to a concert. “You’ll love it!” he said, without a hint of irony. I had never heard of the band. The music was ear-splitting, the crowd was manic and I felt like a seal in a sea of orcas. Despite all of this, I found myself not only enjoying it but marvelling at the sheer vitality of the experience. Young people, bless their baffling playlists, have this uncanny ability to remind you what it feels like to discover joy for the first time.
And then there’s the learning. Young people see the world through a different lens and one that isn’t as cluttered by nostalgia or stubbornness. They’re more likely to challenge assumptions and explore ideas that may never have crossed your mind. They’ll teach you to use that infernal new gadget or explain why everyone’s obsessed with a series based upon a game that you don’t understand. Sure, you’ll occasionally feel like a befuddled time traveller, but isn’t that better than being stagnant?
Finally, there’s the humility factor. When you’re older, it’s easy to assume the role of the wise sage. But spending time with younger people reminds you that wisdom isn’t about dispensing advice; it’s about listening, growing and embracing the fact that you’ll never have all the answers.
So, if things feel a little static, I suggest this: find a younger friend or relative and let them pull you (willingly or not) into their chaotic, exhilarating world. You’ll feel a bit silly, a little out of place, but you’ll also feel alive. And that, my friends, is worth every moment. Just give the happy hour drinks a wide berth.
Yours,
Adam
