Funny thing about aging, most of it’s in your head and the rest of it is your body arguing with you. I’ve got a young head. I think there’s a piece of me still stuck in adolescence. I’m not fighting getting old. After all, the alternative is, well — you know. I’m not one to obsessively study my face for lines and wrinkles but I do massage the loose skin under my chin. I call it my turkey neck. I can get rid of gray hair, wax and buff my skin but that turkey neck is a sure sign I’m not as young as I used to be.
I’m in better physical shape than I was twenty or thirty years ago. I eat healthier, my exercise routine is improved. Work and motherhood made for sloppy eating habits, irregular exercise and more stress in my daily life. In addition, emotionally I’m in a better place. I’m more secure and confident. There are frequent reminders of the aging process, such as getting up from chairs, the three in the morning bathroom run and forgetting what made me come into the living room in the first place. I’ve forgotten more than I remember but I don’t sweat the small stuff.
As I grow older, unwelcome changes in my body have caused my priorities to shift and I have had to redefine what is most important in my life. I’ve given up most of my physical independence. I’m getting used to having people much older than I holding the door for me. I’ve discovered new roads to travel in my mind and found emotional satisfaction from creativity. I recharge my batteries with positive self-talk. My world has become smaller and simpler. I focus on happiness because regret and sadness imprison the soul. I resist the boundaries of aging and hold tightly to youthful surprise and wonder. Life is seen through a different lens now that I’m older. The view is not bad at all.