I am having a strange time with the aging process. Those of you who are over forty are liable to chuckle at that sentence, and that's ok. Those of you who are under thirty might not quite get where I am and that, too, is just fine.
Please be kind.
I am at that point where the train of my shining, powerful youth is just beginning to chug slowly and surely out of the station:
Skin that was once taut gives a bit more than it did two or three years ago... weight that used to come off with the slightest hint of cardiovascular oomph is stubbornly hanging on through six days of exercise per week.... fat that was once a luscious curve on a hip or rib is dimpling.
The scale numbers are going up even though my diet has been even healthier lately.... my body is new to me and I am judging it harshly in a way I would NEVER judge anyone around me.
I am not sure how to feel about that, how many phases there are between here and the amazing crone I picture myself being at ninety with lessons to teach and peace in my heart....
Will I fight the years with injections and surgeries? Even as I write that I smile because I know I won't.
Will I look at younger women with envy and sour thoughts? Will I graciously allow my body to be a bit rounder, softer or will I impose stricter regulations on what I eat, how much I exercise?
Will I squeeze all the joy out of my life with worry? Will I simply let time and God work their magic and mold me into a compassionate, mature being?
I am so completely full of questions and so void of answers about all of these things, having recently stepped out of my bullet-proof twenties.
I would love your thoughts on how to walk these steps we will all/ have all walked gracefully. Please be kind, I am feeling very vulnerable.