When I was younger, I thought people in their 40s were old. What I didn’t realize was how they felt. How close they still felt to say, 20. At 40 – I don’t feel like there is but a degree of separation from 20 years ago. It is as if I blinked and here I am. When you are young, you cannot imagine that two decades worth of experiences could leave such an impression and yet, leave next-to-no impression at all. Aging is strange that way.
This is not to say that I am unhappy with how old I am, or even that I think about myself in terms of my age really.
A man's age is something impressive, it sums up his life: maturity reached slowly and against many obstacles, illnesses cured, griefs and despairs overcome, and unconscious risks taken; maturity formed through so many desires, hopes, regrets, forgotten things, loves. A man's age represents a fine cargo of experiences and memories. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Wartime Writings 1939-1944, translated from French by Norah Purcell
I think that is true…don’t you? But still...40 years. Wow.