Today, there is time …

Most people my age learned in grade school that Juan Ponce de Leon explored what is now Florida in the 16th century, allegedly searching for a mythical fountain of youth. While that legend has been thoroughly debunked by historians, Ponce’s name will probably forever be linked to such a quest.

The Fountain of Youth myth, according to Prof. Google, is probably as old as humankind itself, and until recently I’ve never given the fantasy much thought. Having now spent seven decades on this big blue ball, however, I’m beginning to understand how someone could become obsessed with it.

It was George Bernard Shaw who observed in 1935 that “Youth is the most precious thing in life; it is too bad it has to be wasted on young folks.” The acerbic observation is a sort-of-sour-grapes commentary on the idea that young people don’t appreciate the gift of their vitality and good health, which seemingly would be put to better use by someone older and, by extension, wiser. It’s a silly notion, of course; it is necessary for youth to be squandered in order for wisdom to be attained.

That realization, however, doesn’t preclude one’s wishing for some second helping of what one once had. As our bodies wear out and break down, we long for the pleasures that were so easily enjoyed with strong muscles, supple joints, clear eyes and agile minds. We realize that we have passed up opportunities through plain procrastination, opportunities we will never again have.

For the decade my family and I lived in Longmont, I gazed out my dining room window at Long’s Peak and said, “Someday, I will climb that.” Someday, when I was more fit, someday when I weighed less, someday when I could afford good hiking boots, someday … that never came. And now, with diminished lung capacity, calcified joints and atrophying muscles, it never will. What I wouldn’t give to be 35 again. I’d tackle that peak with sandals and a walking stick just to say I tried.

Not all of us waste our youth, of course. I have a younger brother who is in better physical condition at 55 than I was at 25. That’s mainly because fitness has always been his passion and is now his profession. And it is his example, his role modeling that inspire me to grab whatever gusto is available while I still can.

My brother’s devotion to living well comes naturally. My great-grandfather, a man of the generation that settled and cultivated Yuma County, resisted going into an “old folks home” for years, insisting that he’d “rather wear out than rust out.” Eventually, of course, he was worn out enough that he required constant upkeep. He was 93 when he died. But before that he kept a vegetable garden, tended his own yard, and walked everywhere he wanted to go. As children, we were admonished to emulate our elders’ life choices.

With the new year just around the corner, today seems like as good a time as any to change things. Not tomorrow, and certainly not two weeks from now. Today. This very morning. There is time for a walk, there is time to play with the dog, there is time to dance in the living room with my wife. As long as I can move under my own steam, there is always time.

Perhaps, as with most things mythical, the Fountain of Youth doesn’t exist outside of us, but rather within us. Like the old farmer, we need to realize that there’s still plenty of wear left in this aging machine and, with proper care and use, it will bring us much joy and pleasure yet.

Wishing you all a happy and healthy new year.