When The World Was Young
There is a point in life when I stopped being the youngest person in a meeting and then was the oldest. I find myself talking with someone who I assume must be older than me, and then learning we’re the same age. I recently realized that my grandparents were close to my age now when I was born. These points may sound sobering and point to a longing for youth; “Oh to be 80 again,” as Benjamin Franklin said. But, besides wishing I had the same waist size of my 30-year-old self, I have no desire to return to being in my twenties.
When I started in the profession, I was the youngest such and such for a long time. Somewhere along the line as the generation before me retired or moved on to greener pastures, I became the old guard. This happens to all of us, which is better than being hit by a bus.