I cried my eyes out the other night watching the movie "You've Got Mail." The scene in which Meg Ryan's character shuts down her mother's bookstore just destroyed me. And, somehow, that particular moment in the movie reminded me of what life has felt like in my 50s.
We can easily end up spending the last half of our lives wrestling with the paradox of "How old I am isn't how old I feel!" I believe this internal conversation about "How old I am" versus "How old I feel" serves a purpose.