Paul Greenberg on what he should have learned
In about three weeks I will observe my 55th birthday. (Note that I chose that word instead of celebrate.) I'm not exactly an ancient relic, but I am neither as young nor as healthy as I used to be, and I am realizing more and more that my youth is gone forever. To paraphrase Dante, the arc of my years is clearly descending. But a lot has happened during those 55 years, some of it very good, much of it not so good.
I am naturally inclined to thoughtful introspection, and by now I hope I have acquired at least a measure of wisdom during my restless and difficult journey. Last week I told my friend Michelle about a newspaper article I had read earlier that day, which in turn was about letters middle-aged women had written to their younger selves, all of which had then been compiled into a book. I told her I might do that myself one of these times, and now that I think of it, I might post the letter right here on my blog.
Meanwhile, today I came across this column in today's Jewish World Review. It's by Paul Greenberg, who has long been one of my favorite columnists. I think he is a bit older than I am, but having read this piece, I believe he would understand why someone would want to write a letter to his or her younger self.