A blogger asks the question “what is your permanent age?”
http://dilbertblog.typepad.com/the_dilbert_blog/2007/03/whats_your_perm.html
I’ll post my thoughts later.
After a few drinks, I think most people’s ages tend to regress… I know mine does.
I am striving for “ageless” these days, drunk or sober. 
I’m quite sure that I always act my age, whatever age I happen to be.
Bronze Age. That’s me, sleeping in the sun.
depends on what mood im in, and who im with.
First of all: Can’t one be an old soul and young at heart?
My older sister began to accuse me of being middle-aged while we were in our teens. Not into fads, and the latest whatnots. Inclined to call things like I saw them, especially if I saw them as stupid.
On the other hand, like the blogger, I am heavily influenced by my expectations for the future, and no matter how crappy my day might be, I have an optimistic outlook overall.
I would prefer to feel young. I like to sit on the floor. I’m silly, and like to buck the system–or just pfffffftttttthhhhtttt at the system, as the case may be. I’ve never particularly felt like a grownup. Ok, once I put a Chuck E. Cheese token in a parking meter. It worked.
My initial gut response was 35. (10 years younger than the reality.) But I don’t think it means much.
Or maybe ran around outside in the rain with bare feet, making sure to splash in all the puddles? Loads of fun! 
I’ve never done the Chuck E. Cheese thing…I may have to. As for ptttthhhhtttttt-ing the system, I do that one on a regular basis. 
I’d always looked forward to being in my thirties, but have to admit I will probably always be a twenty-something at heart.
I’m way past both of those now.
M 
My internal age refuses to be permanent. It usually goes in cycles. I call them lifetimes. Each lifetime can take between 0 and 12 years. There’s eddies in it as well - sublifetimes that are occupied with achieving some kind of understanding.
I know when a lifetime or a sublifetime has ended because I get a “resolution day”. I love resolution day.
On resolution day, something has resolved. These “somethings” can be anything from a subconscious task the mind has been secretly putzing over for years, or a very conscious completion of a hard-worked-for objective. Sometimes it’s when the final piece of masonary comes to rest after my most recent tower-of-Babel life’s-work touches the finger of God and falls to ruin.
On resolution day I feel new. A big gust of energy lifts my spirits and makes me high. On resolution day I have no need to consider the next lifetime and can bask in life’s radiance against my senses.
At the end of resolution day (it could be mid-day or even 2 days later) the realisation intrudes - all this new energy wants to do something, the blissful waters break and I am born again into purpose. At these rebirth times I get great fear - specially if the energy has been big. I ask myself “Woof - what TF could it be that’s going to need all this!!??”
It’s all the process of letting go. For anything to be complete it must sail into the great oceanic past on the wind of time, some stately and grand with a joyous wake, some like a putrescent oil slick flattening the waves.
What age am I in all this? The narrator seems old enough to be litterate, but the best stories were always told by the rustle of wind and the warmth on skin playing in time to the beat of walking each new joyous step.
Zero would be a good answer.
In my way of thinking you can’t seriously talk about about “old souls” unless you also consider the idea of reincarnation. Old souls have much previous life experience, so a two-year-old child can act in subtle ways very much like an old soul regardless of her biologic age. My conclusion is that in this context “old souls”, because of their expanded point of view, often act young at heart. The two are not mutually exclusive.
Personally, I am getting ready to celebrate my next birthday with the Beetles’ song, When I’m Sixty-Four. Even though I feel young-at-heart in many ways, in other ways I find myself being more closely drawn to my rocking chair, thinking of Walt Whitman’s line of poetry, “Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking”. However, I do have to get out of my rocking chair long enough to get married before my birthday rolls around.
My answer would have to be, it depends. When I take tests like Myers-Briggs (I know, groan) I want to answer depends to so many questions. It depends on whether you’re talking about home or work, and weekdays or weekends.
As for age, it depends on whether it’s early in the morning (old) or after work (young). Before running (whatever), during running (young) or after running (old). Playing with my daughter (young) or not (whatever).
I remember my sister in law just about shit her pants when she saw me popping dandelions, thinking I was becoming an old fogey. But the truth is, I enjoy yard work not because I’m trying to keep up with the Joneses, but because I like plants. I was totally gassed when our new sundew caught its first fly yesterday. The fly is now half digested. We’re trying to build up a backyard full of native plants now. I’m also trying to make my yard into moss.
Life is much more fun now than it was 30 years ago. Whether it’s because I’m older or despite being older, I really don’t care.
I’ve got a young soul, rebirth-wise. But it’s been
up to awful things in its past incarnations. Nuns,
puppy dogs, it got right down to work.
Hence this life! Geez did I pay.
I’m about five.
Right now I have a horrible cold so I’m feeling old and feeble.
I want you all to feel sorry for me.
As I get older, I tend to act younger. Some things I no longer care much for, such as extended travel, or modern art. That probably puts the age-o-meter up a notch. When I was younger, life was so serious, especially when I was a student.
I have almost always felt more comfortable around folks older than myself. So that would make my permanent age higher.
Getting older and having the creaks and pains of an older body, is not a lot of fun.
Maybe I have to think more on the question. It would be a good one for college dorm bull sessions, if the students weren’t so young, with so little perspective. Perhaps a variant would be, if there is an afterlife and you have to choose your permanent age for eternity, what age would you choose and why?
Now that’s a thought provoking question !
I think maybe 50 would be my favorite age. Old enough to know better but old enough to do it anyway and have folks say…don’t worry, she’s always been like that… 
My step mom had us all go through past life regressions that had us go back in time to points before we developed different kinds of spiritual neuroses. The idea what to get us to be like we were before each kind of neurosis developed and let us return to the state we were in before we had the neurosis. I am a somewhat of a skeptic on the subject of the existence of past lives and whether you can remember them. I went along with the councilor’s guided meditations. I went back through time to before there was life on Earth. I knew things were getting odd when I stated pulling back from the solar system. I went back to a planet where life had evolved quickly to its equivalent of the Cambrian explosion. Then life on that world promptly perished when the blue hot sun went nova. Then I regressed back to the beginning of this cosmos.
I passed through the quantum foam to a previous cosmos that had evolved parallel to this one and regressed back as far as the appearance of blue-green algae on that alternate Earth. I was a large carnivore of human level intelligence on that Earth that organized my species so we could get rid of the humans before they overpopulated our ecosystem. When I found out what was supposed to have happened to humans, I ran away from that cosmos in profound guilt only to get entangled in the formation of this one.
I estimate my spiritual age to be 18 billion years, if all that stuff had really happened. I really don’t have a mental age I would put myself at. I do feel part of growing up is knowing when not to act in an “adult” manner.
18 billion years!
Youngster!
35 years old in 1857, most likely in the US north, working as a blacksmith.
Not quite my self image, but have been told more than once that I belong there.
I’ve been told to “act my age”.
I’ve been told I don’t “look my age”.
I honestly have no idea how “old” I am (biologically, I’m 49).
(and Flydood - hope you are feeling better)
About 4.