If I'd have known I was going to live this long, I'd taken better care of myself. -- Anonymous
I don't walk up the stairs at the pace when we first moved in. My hair is more coarse, has sprouted random gray, is no longer shiny and soft, and has a mind of its own. Everyday, there are new age spots on my hands, arms, legs and face. My eyesight is not as sharp as it once was. As I am writing this, I am feeling a twinge in my back and my fingers are very stiff. "It's just the aging process," I am told by my doctors each time I list my maladies.
Of course, I could have taken better care of myself in my earlier years -- even in the last few years! I have changed my diet so my cholesterol and blood sugar level doesn't get the better of me. Yet, I haven't avoided the sweets as I should. I do walk at least 30 minutes each day but I have not been consistent about taking that extra measure to add even more physical activity; hence, I really could lose some weight. Even on a cosmetic level, I haven't made much effort to stop my skin from deteriorating even more or to hide the gray hairs. I haven't diligently applied sunscreen every time I go outside. In hindsight, would I have made all these changes when I was younger? Probably not.
Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing. -- Redd Foxx
Then, I think of the pets we've had that have survived the hardships of aging and died with dignity. I often wondered if our latest dog, Desi, understood what was happening to him. I think he did. During his last weeks, he did not attempt to walk up the stairs because he knew his weak leg muscles would not support his body. He couldn't see, smell or hear as well and would patiently wait until we realized that we'd have to get closer to him or let him linger longer to recognize the smells and sounds he encountered during his shorter walks. He insisted that he walk his regular route until he was too exhausted. He'd pick up his toy to play with his younger mate even when he just couldn't keep up with her. When my husband set up a mattress next to him so they could sleep together, he showed his appreciation with tiny, soft licks -- snuggling up against him.
Some people that I know, however, are fearful or resent their aging and impending death. It is a shadow that follows us everywhere. The obituaries of famous people, friends and relatives remind us that all lives, no matter how celebrated, must end. We might think that, because we're going to die anyway, nothing we do matters; or things are as they are and we can't do anything about them. These positions deflect our responsibility to manage our actions of body, speech and mind.
These insights have taught me so much about how one's outlook can enhance our quality of life. It helps that I have the mental cognition to understand that everyone ages. I can't stop it. Everyone dies. I can't stop that either. So the question becomes how am I going to live life while I'm alive.
Life is not lost by dying; life is lost minute by minute, day by dragging day, in all the thousand small uncaring ways. -- Stephen Vincent Benet
The best way to prepare for the inevitable is to live a good life. With age comes experience and wisdom, an invaluable gift. Setting things in order -- with our family and friends, with our own home, etc. -- should become a new priority as we downsize, slow down, and spend more time thinking about the meaning our lives. Aging purposefully calls us to include integrating spiritual practices in our daily lives: silence, solitude, forgiveness, presence, and commitment.
In Japan, there is a tradition founded on the appreciation of aging. Zen gardens celebrate the moss and trees that soften and expand as they age. Wrinkles and growths, whether on people or trees, demonstrate their endurance and solidity despite the whims of their environment.