The phrase "The spring days of my youth are passing" once felt distant.

It seemed like someone else's story, like a line from a movie.

But at some point, a different phrase became more realistic.

"At my age, I'm now in the midst of autumn days."

When I was young, I thought time only moved forward.

I believed that after spring, summer would come, bringing more heat and more opportunities.

And it was true. My body kept up, and even if I failed, I could start again.

So my choices were bold, and my pace was fast. There was no reason to look back. I just had to keep moving forward.

But now, things are a bit different. I am still moving, and I am still making choices.

But now I look at direction rather than speed.

In the past, it was about "how much more can I do?" Now, it starts with "why am I doing this?"

If something is meaningless, I won't even start. It's not because I lack time, but because time has become precious.

The expression "autumn" is quite peculiar. It's not completely over, but it's not a beginning either.

The word "harvest" fits better. It's a time to organize what I've built up until now, to distinguish what to keep and what to discard.

Relationships are the same. In the past, I tried to keep them broad. Now it's different. Relationships without depth naturally get sorted out.

Instead, I choose to maintain a few close relationships for the long haul.

My body is honest too. In the past, I could work all night and still manage the next day. Now, if I push myself one day, it takes two days to recover. This is undeniable.

But something else has emerged. I know how to avoid overexertion. I have a sense of where my limits are and when to stop.

My thoughts about money have changed as well. In the past, the goal was to save. It was important to see the numbers grow.

Now it's different. I think about where to spend this money to make it meaningful.

There are things I need to save for, but there are also things I need to spend on. Ultimately, I am gradually understanding that what remains is experience.

Sometimes regrets come up. "Why didn't I do that back then?" "What if I had just been a little braver?" It would be a lie to say I don't have these thoughts at all.

But on the other hand, I know that the choices I made back then were the only ones I could make.

So I don't let it turn into complete regret. I accept it as just a scene that has passed.

The most important thing at this stage is not speed but rhythm. It's not about going fast, but about lasting long.

It's better to maintain a steady pace than to rush ahead and collapse.

This applies to health, relationships, and work. In the end, those who last are the ones who remain.

"At my age, I'm now in the midst of autumn days." This sentence may sound sad. But it doesn't have to be that way.

Autumn is not an end; it's an organization. And it's preparation.

Knowing that another season will come after winter makes how I spend this time even more important.

Even if it's not as intense as before, it has depth.

Even if it's not fast, it has less turbulence. Even if it's not glamorous, it is solid.

This is who I am now. And to be honest, I don't think it's bad.