“My back goes out more than I do.” “We can go upstairs, or we can make love, but I don’t have the energy to do both.” “My memory is so bad I’m constantly making new friends.” All these old smirkers have truth behind them, but focus on the not-so-fun aspects of aging. Why do we tend to hang on to the bad instead of the good? For instance, I’ve been boo-hooing about what I haven’t gotten done over Christmas break. Suddenly in a pound-my-head-on-the-wall moment it occured to me I should be celebrating what I did accomplish. I did a lot in a little bit of time! I impressed myself instead of depressing myself. Dah! It is easy to get caught in the woe-is-me mindset but the following piece may provide some fresh insights. My friend Claudia sent it to me this morning and I thought it was too good not to share with others. (I’m not sure who the author is or I’d happily give credit).:
As I’ve aged, I’ve become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I’ve
become my own friend..
I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they
understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM or
sleep until noon?
I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 &70’s, and if I, at
the same time, wish to weep over a lost love .. I will.
I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and
will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying
glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old.
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well
forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.
Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break
when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody’s
beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to
have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So
many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think.
I don’t question myself anymore.. I’ve even earned the right to be wrong.
So, to answer your question, I like being old.
It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live
forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could
have been, or worrying about what will be.
And I shall eat dessert every single day (if I feel like it).
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