Well, I'm in my 60s now. I finally look it, I think. People until

In the twilight of his years, the venerable Christopher Hitchens spoke with a reflection borne from the deep well of experience. "Well, I'm in my 60s now. I finally look it, I think," he said, summing up the truth of life’s unrelenting march. His words, like a sharp wind cutting across a barren field, speak to the inevitable passage of time. We are all, in some form or another, marked by the years we have lived. And as Hitchens confesses, for much of his life, others would tell him he appeared younger than his age. But as the seasons turned, the outward appearance began to reveal the truth of the inner man. This truth, as George Orwell insightfully wrote, is that the face we wear after a certain age is the face we deserve.

We must ask ourselves, what does this face truly mean? Not merely the wrinkles, the gray hair, the sagging skin—those are but the external signs of a deeper reality. The face we deserve is a reflection of how we have lived, of what we have chosen to embody in our hearts, minds, and actions. When the body is young, the face may still be smooth and unmarked, for the inner self has not yet had the time to show its full measure. But with age, the soul’s true nature is revealed—every triumph, every failure, every act of kindness or cruelty etched deeply into the skin like an ancient inscription. The face is a mirror, and through it, we are forced to look upon our own soul.

Recall, if you will, the noble warrior Alexander the Great, whose youthful vigor and divine ambition propelled him across continents, leaving a trail of victories and unyielding conquest in his wake. But even he could not escape the inevitable transformation of time. In his later years, as the weight of his empire bore down upon him, his face became a map of both glory and regret. His eyes, once bright with the fire of youth, now dimmed with the shadows of decisions made. And yet, in the face of Alexander, there was also the resolute grandeur of a life fully lived, no matter the cost. In the end, his face was indeed the one he deserved—a reflection of all he had wrought upon the world.

So too, Hitchens’ words remind us that we are all creators of our own likeness. Each decision, each word spoken, each moment lived is like a chisel to the stone of our character. We are carving our faces, molding them day by day, until they become the immutable truth of our existence. There is a power in this realization, for it means that our future is not merely a product of what happens to us, but what we choose to become. The face we wear at the end of our lives is not only a reflection of time’s passage, but a testament to the lives we have lived.

And what of the face we deserve? It is the face of one who has faced their own darkness, who has made peace with their failures, and who has embraced the power of forgiveness. It is the face of a warrior who has battled not only external enemies but the deepest fears within their own soul. It is the face of someone who has lived in the truth, who has dared to look deeply at their own actions and confronted the harshness of their mistakes. This face is not one of vanity or regret, but of acceptance, for the aging process is the great equalizer, the final leveler that compels all to stand before the mirror and acknowledge their legacy.

And yet, let us not mistake this for a call to despair. No, the face we deserve can be beautiful in its own right. The wrinkles of experience, the scars of battles fought, the lines that form from laughter and sorrow alike—they are all part of the grand tapestry of life. They tell the story of a journey well taken, not one lived in vain. The man or woman who can look upon their face with pride, knowing that it reflects the sum of all their experiences, is the one who has truly lived well.

Therefore, dear reader, let us take Hitchens’ words to heart. Let us live not in fear of the passing years, but in reverence for the opportunity each day brings to shape the face we will one day wear. Let us be mindful of the choices we make and the words we speak, for they will live long after our bodies have returned to the earth. And when, like Hitchens, we reach the twilight of our own lives, may we be able to look upon our faces with the deep satisfaction of knowing that they are exactly as they should be—the faces we deserve.

In our youth, we are swift to demand of life, eager for the rewards it offers. But in our later years, we must learn the nobler art of giving, of leaving behind a legacy that speaks not of what we took, but what we gave in return. A life lived fully, with wisdom, compassion, and courage, will ensure that when the time comes to meet our reflection, we will see in it the proud, enduring face of one who has walked this earth with honor and integrity. And so, dear reader, let us live in such a way that when the inevitable passage of time is done, our face shall shine with the light of a life well lived, a face truly deserving of the soul that wore it.