Growing up my brothers and I all had chores and one of mine was the dishes. I can remember countless times that my mom would fill the sink with water telling me it was the perfect temperature, but when I’d put my hands in it was too hot for me. The other day while I was with my friends’ kids I turned the water on to wash their hands – immediately they told me the water was too hot. When I checked it however, I considered it warm-ish. I guess that’s one of the things about getting older. You can handle more.
If that’s true though – where is the limit? At what age do we hit the point of which we can handle no more? Does it only seem like we can handle more because we have already experienced so much in our lives? So is it through experience, not necessarily age, that allows us to accept more in our lives?
As we look back on our lives, is that the reason why it seems as if the things we’ve already gone through “weren’t that bad”?
Individual Odyssey
Individual Odyssey 
Where’s the limit at which we can handle no more? Death.
I’m really diggin’ your recent posts – topics, structure, wording – no fluff, right to the point, yet it still maintains the integrity of what you’re trying to convey. Awesome.
Awe, thanks Jared! I appreciate it. I’ve definitely been trying to be more concise with my thoughts. I’d like to commend my recent non-stop SATC watching as inspiration 😉
My pleasure. That’s awesome – Carrie always wrote that way. And Samantha? Jeesh, you can’t get any more blunt than that! Lookin’ forward to your next post : )