Almost two years since I crossed into what I’m sensing is the second half of my life, I’ve been thinking about growing old. What will it be like to be 83, 97, even, I hope one day, 100? What will it feel like to live in/be a body with far more limitations when it comes to flexibility, strength and speed? How will my mind move when it’s lost its lightning-fast surges?
I’m guessing I’ll care most about what I care most about now: health, the people I love, the state of the world, whatever I’m currently creating. But I wonder if I’ll have grown my patience out enough to do some of the things I want to do now (but can’t sit still enough long enough to do), like watch a tree entertain its birds for an hour. Maybe I’ll be able to start reading a book without reading the last page first. I’m hoping I can savor the soup, admire the wind, listen to a particular song I’ve loved for 70 years with all the layers of memory filling the air. Of course, I’m also hoping I’ll be able to walk, talk, think, feed myself, drive until I’m ready to not drive, sleep well at night, and generally feel okay, which may not be realistic, but I’m guessing its a common dream.
Mostly, I look forward to getting old, and perhaps even more so since I watched this remarkable video on the beauty of aging. It gives me hope for opening my life to more dance, more art, more kissing and more clear views of the changing world.