Ah yes, the golden years. Fair assessment or cruel joke?
It has taken me a while to catch up with myself in this regard. For a long time the numbers of my life seemed silly, I felt young and healthy, so I’d sluff those numbers off with; “I don’t feel old…I feel, think and dress like a 35 year old!” But then I more consciously considered those numbers. The ones I made believe did not apply to me. The ones my children are close to reaching.
If I’m honest there are now aches in my neck and knees. There are fears I remember my mother expressing that creep into my brain. I don’t know when exactly the ‘golden years’ begin, but maybe it’s a slower, longer process than a given age group. I forget things. It’s feeling differently, less invincible for sure, but it’s a mixture of so many factors that bunch into a hard-to-ignore blockade.
It is important to see myself realistically and yet push beyond my comfort limits. I believe that is how I’ll grow personally and maintain a level of challenge while continuing to synapse build. It’s a matter of finding what’s right, in the right increments. There is no one size fits all here. As in yoga, we must listen to our bodies, follow our practice and actively pursue our bliss. One of the wonderful aspects of the golden years is gaining wisdom, caring less what others think, a willingness to take care of ourselves because we must, and I would hope the feeling of a life well lived.