"Two
things you discover when you're older and wiser —
you're not actually
any wiser, and behind the wrinkles, you're not any older, either."
~Robert Brault
A beautiful young man stands in the aisle of the
plane. Reading from his mini iPad. Tall and thin but built so nicely. A near
perfect body specimen, in my estimation. The kind I admire. Close cropped light
auburn hair. Tamed scruffy beard. Serious focus but gentle eyes that must
twinkle when amused. As he reads his head moves gently from left to right and
gently snaps back to the left for the next line.
I don't believe he stands to
show off. I think that he is in such good physical shape that it is simply
difficult for him to sit for long, cramping periods of time. Crisp white
T-shirt is a comfortable second skin to his torso. A gold band on his third
left finger. Toned muscular arms and slightly popped veins reveal the fact he
eats well and works out. He takes care of himself.. and probably whomever
else that gold band belongs.
In the seat beside him, a copper skinned, chestnut-haired
beauty. In the third, window seat is a
woman with smooth, deeply-toasted golden skin, champagne highlights on her
dark hair. Her graceful shoulder is all that I can see, with a single soft
freckle to accent it and maintain a slight distance from pure perfection.
How the years pass and someday even as they take care
of these bodies, time will change the texture and gravity will pull and the
tone will change.
I fight my conditioned thoughts about getting older.
Some things sagging more and skin pocked with freckles, moles and
sunspots. Some slight puffs of untoned flesh - even though I am active and
walk and move a lot more than many my age. I fight that "aged" thought. Age
has nothing to do with much of anything. (Except the body's condition. Even if
one uses surgery and chemicals and other extreme measures, age is still
persistent in its effect. And it is obvious if you "adjust" things. If that is what you want
to spend your money on. Not I.)
I want to travel and explore and
discover. I want to pick up my grandchildren and carry them in my hip and
play in the trees with them. That is my choice. Those are the things I
want. I love what Caroline McHugh calls older people in her TED talk with
her Gaelic brogue:
“wrinklies”. I’m
becoming a wrinkly and proud of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment