When I think about it, we begin to age the moment we’re born. That’s most likely not a revelation for you, however, it gives me pause now and then. When younger, I longed to be older for the privileges it bestowed on me: make my own purchases, stay at home without someone watching over me, drive a car. There was always something to look forward to as I passed another hurtle: voting, attending university, renting my first apartment. I kept waiting to be a grown-up, to be mature. Often ignorant of the collection of valuable experiences, I wished away the journey keeping the destination my constant target.

My discoveries as of late center around the surprises in myself. There is knowledge, understanding and tough battle scars influencing my actions in this stage, the second half. Unfortunately, my body and endurance don’t project this depth of skills. Instead, my age sometimes camouflages my talent. It requires a closer examination from the youth to recognize the offerings hidden in this aging skeleton.

I looked forward to this advantage throughout my life, but now must work harder to demonstrate it. I wish I knew that when I was younger.

Just Another Man in the Rain

I don't recall the moment the rain started.
It was always on the way.
Always thirsty for it, anticipating.
I do remember a mist, memories of tickling drizzles.
Now the moisture is more than a present, a relentless presence.
Dilutes my perspective. Fogs my projection.
I seldom underestimate its role,
But remain naive to the power of this uncontrollable substance.
On the surface, downpours render me less steady, slower.
Yet rain doesn't soak through to soothe my increasingly aching muscles
or my shrinking bones. Rather it washes away the fiber.
Thankfully, neither does it dampen experience, wisdom, courage - gifted by time.
These endure, ever-evolving. 
Maybe less overt between raindrops.
So to you, I'm just another man in the rain.

B. Toner August 2025