There’s a saying, “You’re only as old as you feel.” If it’s true, I started getting old in my mid-40s. I went to bed one evening with clear vision and woke up the next morning with blurry vision. And it’s stayed that way. If I wake in the night, I reach for my glasses. I say a little prayer when I shave in the shower. And my bones remind me regularly that my body is “older.” So much so, that during the first year of the pandemic, I shelled out a shocking amount of money on a new mattress without ever setting foot in a store. (Worth every cent.) And don’t get me started on my hair. Oh, my hair! I can deal with the gray. (Well, my hairstylist does!) But my luscious locks are thinning.
Make no mistake about it, I know 49 isn’t “old.” At the same time, I know what “young” feels like — and those days have felt like they’re over.
Because I’ve had a sense of time slipping away, I’ve begun to feel as though I’m too old to try new things, or I’ve missed out on some things I had always hoped to get to. For example, I did some black-and-white photography when I was in high school. I had a good friend with a dark room in her basement and we would spend hours taking photographs and developing them. Years later, after college degrees and children, I acquired a nice DSLR and was eager to dive into photography. But life forced it onto the back burner. Over the last year, I questioned if it was too late. The technology has changed a lot. I would have so much to learn. What was the end goal?
A lot of my hesitation stemmed from feeling overwhelmed by everything I had to learn, whether I could find the time to commit to it and the access to opportunities to learn. I realized while some of this can be age-related, such sentiments are shared by anyone learning something new. And I was fortunate to have a friend with professional experience, a few friends with a lot of personal experience, and a father who developed a passion for photography years ago and has become quite accomplished at it.
In the last few months, I’ve spent hours reading and listening to others speak about shutter speeds, aperture, and ISO settings until my eyes cross, and it’s all Greek to me. I smile and nod, but I’m still mystified. I’ve taken hundreds, if not thousands of photos, most of which have been deleted. I’m proud to say, I’ve become quite good at photographing LEGO minifigures. They are perfect companions for beginners; they never complain and stay still for hours. Most importantly they ensured me the ability to practice inside during the Maine winter. On occasion, I squeal in delight when I realize I have a photo with the perfect combination of composition, clarity, and light that simultaneously evokes emotion when you look at it.
Then my father gifted me a membership to the North Carolina Sandhills Photography Club, where he is club president. He signed us up for an iPhone photography class; part one was remote. Last week, I flew down to North Carolina to visit my father and was able to attend the in-person class with him. I was the youngest participant, but I still learned a thing or two. And my father and I spent the week doing photography together.
It’s been wonderful and exhausting. My dad and his wife wake at the crack of dawn because their days are packed. I practically begged to sleep in like I was a teenager, but my dad had a busy schedule for me too. (You snooze, you lose!) I also realize that many of the people in the photo club who helped me, one might call “old,” but they really aren’t. Most are retired, yet have embraced the newest technology like teenagers, knowing it can add to their craft. We chatted, laughed, struggled, and took photos together. Then I woke up the next morning to an email request to text any good photos we took. And I’ll be able to attend the meetings remotely from Maine because they embrace the technology that the pandemic forced us all to use; their meetings are all hybrid. Their eagerness to adapt to change and their enthusiasm are inspiring.
I’ve decided that age isn’t about a number, or how young you feel, but how you choose to live each day. And for me, it’s exciting to want to master something that can be both challenging and beautiful.
So, as I look through my photos from this week, my heart begins to race. When you capture a moment or an expression so perfectly, you want to share it. Somehow, that makes me feel young.
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