
I was in the company of a 6-year-old boy recently who finished a fanciful story at a family dinner by saying, “That happened when I was never years old.”
It was such an offhand but beautiful comment about aging, and in broader terms, about the absence of time and death. I thought about this innocent remark for weeks and concluded that a noble goal for any life would be to always remain “never years old.”
How do we do that? How do we, as driven men, become ageless regardless of the number of years we’ve lived? We all know men in their 70s or 80s, even older, who seem to defy their age, going through their days with vigor, optimism, and resilient good cheer. We admire and even wish to emulate their energy and enthusiasm. In response, we might seek the latest age-defying protein diet, undertake a transformative workout program, or follow some other external path to the fountain of youth.
But I don’t think the body is the source of true health, youthful energy, or enduring happiness, and no amount of body-focused training will work. It is our male minds that must be retrained, not our bodies.
This is perhaps where 6-year-olds can be our greatest teachers; living in the moment, as they do, showing us how to become like little children again.
To adopt a child’s mindset is to be in a natural state of constant curiosity, fully engaged in the present moment, noticing life’s smallest details, and enthusiastically exploring every dimension of the every day—whether we are toiling at work, taking a walk in the woods with our partners, or engaged in a weekend baseball game.
The educator Walt Streightiff wrote: “There are no seven wonders in the world in the eyes of children; there are seven million.” He points to wonder and awe as the hallmarks of childhood, and possibly the keys to keeping our adult hearts and minds open to help foster a supple agelessness.
What happens, then, to our wonder and curiosity as we get older? The trouble seems to begin when we think we know how the world works and follow societal conventions and accepted “rules,” rather than our fertile imaginations which can keep creative doors open. The adult mind becomes hardened and uncompromising in its need to be unassailably right, rather than eagerly awaiting the next adventure. Children, on the other hand, remain wide-eyed and willing to be surprised by whatever comes next.
This notion is like the famous Zen proverb about emptying our cups. As we grow older, our cups become filled with our sternly held beliefs and fossilized opinions, our righteous judgments and stubborn knowings, and there is no room for anything new to enter. If we want to see through young eyes, we must humble ourselves and empty our minds of what Mooji, the contemporary mystic, calls our “learned ignorance.” Only then is there hope of seeing with fresh eyes and experiencing the world anew, as children do.
There is another quality in children that most adults, particularly men, have lost; a “suspension of faithlessness” or, NOT believing that anything is possible. Grown-ups might call this naïve—particularly headstrong, inflexible men. But there is a deep truth here, basically that our worlds are nothing more than our inner thoughts crystallized and projected into outer perception. Meaning, what we make up is what we can manifest. Then, everything we’re looking at becomes a changeable animation created from the inner mind clay of our imaginations. Kids know this.
Here’s a final thought, another plucked from my “childhood handbook of agelessness.” It is about playing.
In a revealing New York Times article, the well-known, whimsical cartoonist Lynda Barry says that child’s play is not frivolous, but essential to preserving mental flexibility at any age and nurturing our creative sides: “Adults think that kids playing is some nothing thing. But play is a different state of mind, and it can help us do so many things if we just allow ourselves to get back to it.”
Play, for no other reason than personal enjoyment, can be hard for us men to embrace. We tend to be determined doers. We overlook actions that seem to lack definitive, productive purpose. And that can quickly petrify our zeal and passion, aging us beyond our years.
So, yes, our bodies might die, but we never have to grow old. We can retain an energetic spark, an agile mind, and a playful disposition by becoming like little children again.
If we do this, my fellow brothers, we can answer truly when asked our age, “I am, and will always be, never years old.”
—-The End—
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Previously Published HERE and is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: iStock

Love this metaphysical approach to how we think of “age”. Not denying the idea of death, but adjusting instead to how we can live from the inside out.