It's 100% fact that young people have no idea what it's like to be old, and that old people are the only people who know what it's like to be both young and old [i'm obviously watching The Pitt]. And the Number One thing that I am learning about "being old" is that age slows you down, not on purpose, and not intentionally, but by the sheer force of the reality of your body's own aches and pains, the degradation of your bodily self.
Say, "duh," to my face; I dare you.
Forty
I feel very middle-aged, because I can still do some of the stuff that I could do when I was young, but I feel very terrible after doing these things, e.g. I need days to recover, and I certainly do not perform the things I can "still" do at the same young-BAMF level of my youth.
I feel very middle-aged, because if I can still do the things that I can do now when I'm eighty, I'll be one mother-fucking, fucking-fucking BAMF.
But for now, doing anything at all is, meh.
Thus, the middle of my aging, the place between BAMFs.
I am no longer young.
I am well on my way to elderly.
I am not yet elderly.
I'm not working for gains so much as I'm working for sustaining ability.
I'm working to avoid "too much."
I'm not working to run longer, faster, harder.
I'm working to run, at all.
I'm not working to "smash that yoga challenge."
I'm working to soothe through stretching.
I'm not working to "better" myself.
I'm working to stay alive without the assistance of pharmaceuticals, etc.
I'm very much past my youth, and it is here, in the middle, when you get to test your mettle.
Will you work to remain able to your best ability, within the constraints of what can be controlled?
Or will you not?
Horny
As a woman, I have heard many-a tale of the "menopause baby," and let's just say, "I get it."
I feel lucky to have a healthy body-buddy, and I feel grateful that my body-buddy is also my lifemate.
When I need cock, he's here.
When I need hugs, he's here.
When I need what I need, and I need it now; he's here.
He's aging, too, and I feel even luckier to be aging with him, cause it's one helluva ride, and we've only just begun. It's not fair, tho, that his aging is making him even hotter, inching closer to his peak attractiveness, as I've firmly exited mine, but then it'll all be fair again when he's a gross old man, and I'm an adorable old asian lady, lol.
Brining
As we were transitioning into middle-age, we discovered bathing in bath salt.
As we moved from the mountains to the sea, none of it really made sense to me.
As we soak in the salted sea, at forty, it all makes sense to me.
^..^
and i write about this, now, because as we've been building The Table, The Table has taught us many things, and one of these things is how old we've become. projects like this have always been a breeze for the likes of us; we could go for days on days on days, weeks on weeks on weeks, for years, and now we cannot.
elderly people talk about how aging humbles you, and i don't really see it this way.
i think that i have been humbled, regularly, throughout my life.
and so, for me, aging has made me more aware of the small, daily nuances of life.
when i was young, the bigger, larger, greater picture was all i wanted.
in the middle of my aging, the smaller picture, the immediate present matters much more to me than wondering what any of this could possibly mean.
i am less curious about what will happen tomorrow.
i am less curious about finding purpose.
i am less curious about who i am.
i am much more curious about who has access to me.
i am much more curious about where our realities diverge.
i am much more curious about individual people.
all the while knowing that it is the sum of our parts that matters more than any individual
when considering the future of humanity
and yet
it is actually only the people in your immediate presence who create this greater whole
and this part/whole dichotomy is where i'm at these days.