Excuse: I’m too old (I’m too young).
Granted my friends are dreading turning 25 and Tab jokes she’s now middle-aged (she’s only going to be 50 because my nonchalant adventurous attitude stresses her out) and I am the only one excited to hit the quarter century mark. I have a hard time correlating this excuse, I’m in the prime of my life. If I continue to take care of myself I could live at least another 100 years (granted no accidents), I feel like I am in the infancy of my potential and of my life. But when I think of being old, I think like I usually do: that I am extraordinary. Why does being older have to limit me? Only my thoughts can do that. Being young I may be able to relate to more.
Sometimes in our business (and I’ve been told), that I’m harder to relate to. Most of our clients are middle-aged. I understand that our lifetime frame is different. That I have much to learn. That I have less to talk about. Sometimes I stand in awe of my mom. How can she have so much to say? So many stories? She’s captivating. I get silenced by my intrigue. Sometimes I slip. She is entertaining and relatable. Then I think:
Brittany that is bullshit, stop being ridiculous. Just like when I think about the insanity of celebrity, they are just people. Do what you do when looking for beauty or when you’re seeking to find people doing something right. Find yourself. Find that click. Find how you relate. Find what you like. Let them talk. Listen. Be that energy you talk about. Be a light. Don’t dim your radiating light with self-inflicted thoughts. You are the perfect age. Age, actually doesn’t even matter. Love them all. Be ageless. Be infinite. Be bright.
Dr. Dyer: I am an infinite being. The age of my body has no bearing on what I do or who I am.