It's sad to grow old, but nice to ripen. Brigitte Bardot

I am growing younger by the day. No, not mentally. I can still count my age (in sixes and sevens), and I heed my aches and pains. Nope. I am younger by the day in spirit. A kind of lightness has entered my heart, and that takes years off my on-earth age by the tens.

It's simple. I began to practice forgiveness. Start with your parents, they raised you. Over time, I started to see that the things I really like about myself are things that came from childhood, my direction and love of certain things are comforting because they are familiar. My Irish father's captivating telling of a story, my Azorean mother's wicked sense of humor. It all started to make sense. Yet these were not idyllic times; some of the time, my very person felt repressed and sometimes punished--just for who I was. So, take your pick, don't take it all.



Put down your temper more often, find your patience. Some of the meanest things ever said to me were said by those I loved, deeply. One husband told me I simply wasn't lovable. I thought about that for years; but then, he died young. Being mean suddenly seemed to be a good way to shorten one's life.

Not easy for a hot head, but I am doing it. Once you've forgiven your parents, forgive yourself for the foolish things you did when you were young enough to know everything. It will magically iron the wrinkles on your brow. Painlessly.

Then, let that patience radiate out like spokes from a hub. When someone is bitter and shows their mean streak like a skunk stripe, step back. Let them be furious, but don't allow them to spray you. They have reasons that you can't imagine. Don't let their anger and pettiness rule your life, dust it off.

Find yourself in quietude. Do what needs to be done, but not slavishly; it only builds resentment. Find small things that you love in life, a garden is good for that. A shelter dog, especially one that takes time to train, is very good for that. Take love that is freely offered; love the giver. But don't live for it; that only serves to make you desperate.

I'm still not that good at right living. I can see how easily anger, bitterness and habit get in the way. Sometimes, something fires deep within me and anger bubbles to the top in a trice. I'm always amazed by it. Step back from the wreck, I tell myself. Let it burn itself out. I can do this. As I approach my birthday, I realize it may be my life's greatest accomplishment, to free myself. Maybe someday, I'll get this down--but I'm not counting on being perfect, ever. Just human, just a bit of humility. Life is greater than I am.