I have come to the conclusion recently that we are older than we feel. We move forward in time in a bubble of the present with the past gently fading away behind us. It is only evidence from the past that can remind us that we are deeper than we remember.
When we reflect upon our personal histories, it can be astounding how much has transpired within our own lifetimes. The quantity of past and current homes, possessions, pets, travels, friends, co-workers, schools, jobs, births, and deaths that we have known force us to conclude that we have existed for a long time. The sheer weight of it would be oppressive if we could recall the experiences all at once.
While it is probably for the best that we do not look back too frequently, there must be some value in this new conclusion of mine. What benefit is it to know that you are old even if you cannot feel it? Does the story of how you came to your present circumstances have any bearing on where you go from here? Or does it become more irrelevant as times goes on?