CHARLES LEVINSOHN

Opening excerpt from my first published essay:

Lately it seems that every conversation involving people my age revolves around our fear of getting old. We can’t make a move without some reminder of how quickly time is passing and how little we can do about it. In our desperation to hang on to a distant past, we celebrate ancient victories as if they just happened yesterday. Our selective memory is on automatic pilot, molding the autobiography we wish we could have. Our glory days are elevated, while our less than stellar moments are conveniently forgotten. And with our days on earth flying by at a breakneck pace, we keep the pedal to the metal just hoping to reach the finish line in one piece.

And then suddenly the reverse happens! We unwittingly find ourselves in social situations so tedious, that they just can’t end soon enough. During these unbearable moments, we turn into zombies—blankly staring at our watches, secretly wishing our lives away. Faster or slower, we just can’t win. Time always has the upper hand. And the saddest part is that our fear is probably more debilitating than the actual aging itself.