that and this

There were times when I was a kid growing up in Massachusetts the winter temperature would drop to six degrees. And it wasn’t unusual, there in my first 50 years, to have two or three or four days in a row of the low twenties. It was just winter.

Now, when I go outside at 4am after meditation to look at the stars and it’s 45 and I can see my breath, I can barely imagine ever having been so cold.

It seems getting old had made me wussier. And yet, has it?

I can never remember being this brave.