Today I realized I was furious that I am getting older. To be more precise, I was furious that my body shows the signs of getting older. I also realized I was jealous of younger women and of women my age who look younger than I look. Ick.
Those are not pleasant feelings, my friends. Yet I have them.
As I sat there, trying not to quash my feelings, but to simply hold them, a question came to my mind—“What do I do with these feelings?” I can’t act on them. What would I do, go around to all the women I perceive as more beautiful than I and tell them to stop their beauty? The mere thought makes me laugh. Besides, they are likely having the same feelings about other women. I can’t pretend I don’t have the feelings and the fear behind them. The farther I get into this work the more I see how futile that is.
The question remains, what do I do? Then came the answer.
I live knowing that this lifetime is not endless; my aging body shows me that. I live knowing how precious life is, because one day I will die. I live the absolute beauty of life.
I recognized all the signs of aging I hate—the thinning skin, the circles under my eyes, the graying hair, the various joint and muscles ailments—all are signs of my amazing life—the life with which I have already been gifted, and the life I have yet to explore.
Now, instead of looking at my wrinkles in disgust and fear, I have the choice to see them as reminders of my cherished life, and have my eyes, and heart, fill with gratitude.