We must learn to remember that growing old is an honor ; we earn those grey hairs as we grow and entwine into the world. Oh, Grimnir knows we may need our masks to move about in the world of unfriends, but all old things rejoice and come to recognize us, the new kids on the block, as we grow old. Done right, done properly, our maturity properly pursued, we ripen, we become the effervescence of conviviality shared in dozens and hundreds of symposia and sumbles, if we let our heart feel out and access what free expanse large mind is capable of. The more I pray, mind-drift love to love in adoration and will to hale in whole, how I mature.