At any rate, I told him I thought my gray hair was a result of stress. I've had no small amount of it over the years, and the fact that I am a natural worry-er certainly doesn't help. What can I say? The tragedies of life have left an impression on me.
I first noticed a few gray hairs when I was sixteen and since then it has increased, slowly, at first, but increasingly so in the past two years or so. I'm hoping to be gray by thirty-five and white by fifty. But that's another matter altogether.
We started talking about the differences between our lives; mine has had much stress, while his has had little.
We know each other pretty well, this student and I. He's on the soccer and wrestling teams, and was one of our pilgrims to World Youth Day 2008.
He has a good head on his shoulders and though it sometimes seems he isn't really on this planet - he's one of the most laidback individuals I've ever met - he's wise for his age. He strikes me as having a good balance of joviality and seriousness, when it is required.
As we talked about the stresses of my life and the relative ease of his, he reminded me - as he does from time to time - that I worry too much. He's right. He put it this way:
Worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you anywhere.I told him I'd put that on my blog and he said he wanted attribution. His name: Cody Sandschafer.
Thanks, Cody! Keep reminding us all to slow down and relax; we need this reminder all too often.