Street preacher Dan’s sermon on getting old

Hey—HEY!
Don’t keep walking like you got somewhere more important to be!
Slow down.
Listen to an old man who paid for his wisdom in full… no discounts… no refunds.

I ain’t selling religion.
I ain’t selling fear.
I’m selling you the truth that time whispered to me—
after it knocked my teeth out and bent my back.

Let me tell you something about getting old…

You don’t become wise by accident.
You become wise the same way a sidewalk gets cracked—
pressure… weather… years of being walked on by your own bad decisions.

Oh, I see some of you smiling—
you think I’m talking about other people.

No, sir.
No, ma’am.
I’m talking about YOU.

When I was young—oh, I was rich!
Not in money… not in sense…
I was rich in TOMORROWS.

“I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“I’ll fix it tomorrow.”
“I’ll start living right… tomorrow.”

But let me tell you what time does—
TIME don’t argue.
TIME don’t warn.
TIME just… TAKES.

LESSON ONE: YOU THINK YOU HAVE TIME

One day you wake up—
and tomorrow got repossessed.

Where are the people you meant to love better?
Where are the risks you were gonna take?
Where is that dream you kept folding up like a letter you never mailed?

GONE.

And time didn’t even say goodbye.

LESSON TWO: YOUR BODY KEEPS RECEIPTS

Oh, your body…
your body is quiet when you’re young.

You can mistreat it, ignore it, run it like a stolen car—
and it just hums along like it forgives you.

But don’t be fooled—
your body is a faithful accountant.

Every sleepless night—logged.
Every drink, every stress, every “I’ll deal with it later”—filed away.

And then one morning—
you wake up and your knees start preaching back at you.
Your back starts testifying.
Your heart starts asking questions you can’t dodge.

Your body will say:
“Remember when you thought you were invincible?”

And you won’t have an answer.

LESSON THREE: REGRET AIN’T LOUD—IT’S QUIET

Listen…
I thought regret would come like thunder—
dramatic, loud, undeniable.

No.
Regret is quieter than that.

It sits beside you at 2 a.m.
It taps you on the shoulder when the room is empty.
It shows you a memory… just a small one…
and says, “You could have done better there.”

And it don’t yell.
That’s the worst part.

It just… stays.

You ever feel that?
Come on—don’t lie now.
You ever replay a moment…
and wish you could step back into it just for five seconds?

That’s regret.

NOW LISTEN—THIS IS WHERE IT TURNS

Because I didn’t come out here just to warn you…
I came out here to FREE you.

You still got breath in your lungs?
Then you still got TIME.

Not endless time—don’t get it twisted—
but ENOUGH.

Enough to make the call.
Enough to start something that matters.
Enough to stop lying to yourself.

Because one day—
you’re gonna be the one standing where I’m standing.

Voice a little rougher.
Step a little slower.
Heart a little heavier… but clearer.

And you’re gonna wish—oh, you’re gonna wish—
you had listened.

So go on now—
but don’t just walk away.

Walk DIFFERENT.

And when time comes knocking—
don’t let it find you still saying:

“Tomorrow.”

—————

Essays, Art and Plays by Dan