After so many years of traveling through the various stages of being a kid, a teenager, a young adult, an adult, a middle-ager, I have been inclined to look at an older person and think, “There but for the grace of God…” I don’t see my gray hair or the wrinkled edges to my eyes until I look in the mirror. That’s when I have to wonder who the old woman is. Or, why is that old woman following me around?
Now I’m realizing the ‘age-challenged woman’ isn’t out ‘there’. She’s in ‘here’!
I have the tendency when I set myself to a task like: “Age Well, Earlene,” to jam through the assignment! The fact is: I’ve decided this time that I’d rather not push myself too soon into the next phase beyond this reality, thank you. I decided to take an assessment of what my body, emotions, mind, and spirit might be feeling about this current process, like a personal CAT scan or MRI.
Physically, this process has been on-going due to my 66 years of non-stop use and gravity. I’m short by a little, wider by a lot. I have bald spots, and my hair is not the luxurious mane it once was. The ringing in my ears stops me from hearing certain sound vibrations and soft voices. I have a cataract growing which will require surgery in five years, or so the doctor says. I can still exercise with five pound weights, but I have to be creative in lifting over 20 pounds. Veins are beginning to bulge in my calves instead of muscles. My arms are showing signs that what once was on top is now flapping at the bottom.
Everything is wrinkled: brow, lips, cheeks, chin, neck, arms, and hands. What isn’t wrinkled, sags. Those youthful, perky breasts are flatter with wall-eyed nipples, and I have a little pot belly. I leak urine and fart. Aches and pains let me know which joints I’m using, and my hands fall asleep at the darndest times. So do my feet
Emotionally, I switch between sad and mad, but mostly I’m scared because I’m alone and on my own. Some days I can get out of bed and look forward to the day of possibilities. Others I pull the covers over my head and try to hide.
Mentally, I need much more self-talk to keep me on task, and I need lists to remind me of commitments and what I’ve used up in the refrigerator or shelves. I can figure things out over time, and I continue to have interest in life around me. I can still do basic arithmetic and figure angles when I’m laying the new cedar floor in the closets. I’m getting better at Sudoku, and I thoroughly enjoy many creative interests.
Spiritually, I find I’m talking to them more, the spirits that is. I believe they reside within the living things on the Earth as well as in the ethers. Or at least I think that’s who I’m talking to. I know I’m part of something greater than myself and that the essence of who I am is not my body or mind or emotions. These things are pieces of the expression of me in the world
So the only thing this aging phenomenon doesn’t seem to be hindering is my spirit. It seems to be taking the edge off my mental processes, confusing the heck out of my emotions at times, and majorly affecting my physical presence on this Earth plane. Maybe that’s the best answer, that aging is the dissolving of my human trappings so my Spirit can shine through. To do that well might be a matter of attitude and acceptance.
(Taken from an essay for a recent class on aging.)
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