Recognition is a lovely gift. To recognize who we are, what we have to offer our community and ourselves, and to move forward in a clear and positive direction is a much-needed universal contribution. It can take some time to get to the bones of our true selves, but it’s a worthwhile journey.

I recently read an article in Newsweek. It was an interview with a 97-year-old woman. As expected, the reporter asked the usual secret-to-a-long-life question. Her answer was unexpected and totally refreshing.

“I never went to a gym, never exercised or anything. I just lived a normal life. Never ate healthy food, never went on a diet. I go against everything that everybody talks about.”

While many folks believe in regular exercise and follow the good eating recommendations that are suggested for longevity, the woman’s statement was food for thought. It was a beautiful example of self-recognition and acceptance. It was real and honest and, at age 97, it was obviously working for that sweet soul.

Engaging in a bit of self-recollection, I doubt I’ll ever stop my walking routine and will likely always question why I ate those cookies instead of a piece of fruit. I acknowledge that after dabbling in a few careers Mother would have deemed acceptable, for the last thirty years I have focused on writing. I love to write. Telling true stories with humor, honesty and inspiration is what I do. And I recently came across something wonderful that added greatly to my personal awareness.

It was an old photograph. It was taken at Culver’s Lake Farm in Northern New Jersey — a beautiful working farm with goats, chickens, horses and a sweet collie, Fritz. My father took us there for two weeks every summer. I had no pets, but Dad knew I loved animals and saw to it I had as much exposure as possible. The picture was one of dozens of shots Dad took with his Brownie Target Six-16 camera.

The black-and-white shot is of a 6-year-old girl walking with hands behind her back along a dirt road. If I look closely, I can see a thin ribbon on top of her head keeping loose strands of hair out of her eyes. She’s wearing a short-sleeve white shirt, baggy black bibbed pants and sensible shoes. Of course, it was yours truly.

Through the photo, memories of the farm come to life. The aroma of towering pines and touches of crisp air on walks through the woods, the lake of icy cold water, whiffs of hay and sawdust emanating from the barn, a sense of belonging among goats and chicks, horses and dogs. The recollection of cozy farm garb and private childhood stories written on lined paper are vivid. I’m overwhelmed with warm, affirming feelings remembering that care-free, budding writer.

I put the picture aside. Inhaling and exhaling a deep cleansing breath, I glance down at the group of us on the couch. Computer in my lap, I’m in the company of two cats and a dog and I am wearing a short-sleeve white shirt, baggy black pants and sensible shoes. The clear photo memory of a happy child, the current reality of this grateful, comfortable old girl makes me realize that positive childhood happenings can live on the edge of possible until resurrected by chance or design.

At 6, I didn’t have much to say about what I wore. Mother laid out my clothes and I put them on. Sometimes I donned dresses and Mary Janes, plaid skirts and blazers, and, eyeing that old photograph occasionally at Culver’s Lake Farm, Mom got it right.

I admit I succumbed to many successful albeit uncomfortable attempts at looking stylish over the years. From bellbottoms to miniskirts, high heels to go-go boots, short shorts and polka dot bikinis, I caved into the fashion of the moment. But today, like my mother’s occasional scores, this gal gets it right. Baggy pants, sensible shoes, cherished critters keep me grounded and grateful to be sharing the aging journey through writing.

Wishing you moments of self-recognition and comfortable aging spirits.

“The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.”

Carole Marshall is a former columnist and feature writer for a national magazine. Her stories have been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul books. She’s written two novels and one fitness book. cmkstudio2@gmail.com