I’m in the thick of aging on the decline side, and part of me is all: ‘oh, you just have to accept it’, and ‘this is where we’re all headed’, and ‘this is the way it’s supposed to be’, to ‘Screw you life! This is not going to happen to me!’ I think people before me just lacked the knowledge to keep themselves from aging, but we know more now, and aging is an alleged choice, not a definitive.
But, reality intervenes, as it so often rudely does, and reminds me that I am not in control of anything except dying, and I’m not really in control of that.
I think I want to age gracefully, but I’m also aggressively against that. Anyone seeking to tell me how I should act, and what I should or should not do, is acting from their insecurities, or issues, and has nothing to do with me.
If I get facial hair maybe I’ll dye my chin hairs purple. Maybe I’ll have a shaved, tattooed head – I don’t know. I am not cool with life’s progressive decline, and as I look around me, precious few are. I see celebrities and non-celebrities doing whatever they can to make themselves appear younger.
A healthy diet, with some supplements as needed, lots of water, and exercise, are the biggest age-slowing activities, along with joyful living. But, fight it or not, I am aging.
Behind my worry about age is fear. Fear of never accomplishing anything I wanted to; fear of losing relevance or status, and fear of becoming decrepit and thereby dependent on others for complete care.
The upside of aging is perspective, more compassion for elders, and seeing them not as old people, but as lived people – people with stories to tell, and hopefully, wisdom to share. Plus, I’ll eventually get senior discounts, so I suppose I have that to look forward to…
© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current