The "aaah" after the "ouch."

Last month an article in the WSJ talked about how much of life we miss when we insist on our own world view as the lens for interpretation.  After thinking about this, I had the painful then relaxing revelation that, at age 55, I am more passenger than driver.  Now, it is more about me fitting into the world of the 25s to 45s than it is about me hoping that they will restore certain values that I hold dear.  I won't stop caring; I will be ready to answer if someone asks my opinion; but, truthfully, my soldiering days are near an end.  The physical me can't really soldier on like I once did, but the spiritual me can honor those values.  Who knows?  It could turn out that consistent behavior that evidences a set of values might turn out to be as effective as outright advocacy.  My instincts say "nah" but my instincts have been schooled by the popular media, and shucks, what do they know?