By allowing yourself to get old.
I stole the title of my post from this blog: http://firstknownwhenlost.blogspot.com/2015/06/becoming-poem.html
It inspired me, "Becoming a Poem" I mean. Not in the sense of dying and coming back, like the blog discusses. But in the sense of becoming beautiful. As someone would write a poem about a rose, so I am a rose and my life is a rose. I am a poem. My life is a poem.
In fact, if there is celestial music, then my life sings it all day every day.
So what is the deal about becoming old? It only means I have journeyed far. I have a long ways to go too. I've been over hill and dale, to the farther shore. Not yet have I made it to the end of the earth; except I have glimpsed that other world.