“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” – Mary Oliver
About a decade ago, I called my grandmother to wish her a happy 80th birthday. She chuckled and said, “Oh, Clara. I don’t feel 80.” At that point, I was just stepping into my 30s and beginning to understand the passage of time. Yet, I could relate to her sentiment: in our minds, we often remain forever youthful.
Now, as I approach 40, I feel this truth even more profoundly. The way I perceive aging is not at all what I anticipated. Sure, I see the signs—those fine lines that have settled on my forehead, the skin on my arms starting to sag under gravity’s pull, the surprise gray hairs that sprout up like weeds, and my growing preference for comfort over style. But these physical changes are merely a reflection of the body I inhabit; they do not define who I am. I’m committed to maintaining my health and making the most of my time here, but I also recognize that my body will eventually age, deteriorate, and ultimately cease to function. This is a universal truth that we all grapple with, even if it’s uncomfortable to acknowledge. Our bodies can sometimes feel like a betrayal to our spirits.
Recently, I spent time with that same grandmother, now nearly 90, and I noticed her frustration with the mismatch between her vibrant spirit and her aging exterior. I completely understand. At 40, I still see myself as a “young woman.” The years may mark our bodies, but they don’t touch our essence—the spirit remains ageless.
This intertwining of our physical and spiritual selves can lead us to cling desperately to our youth, fighting against the natural flow of time. This impulse is often fueled by a fear of mortality, society’s obsession with youth, and a genuine desire to align our outer appearances with our inner selves. However, I refuse to squander my one wild and precious life trying to halt the river of time. Instead, I want to navigate the currents, honing my skills while appreciating the beauty that unfolds around me. Life is fleeting, and I’d rather spend my time truly living than devising ways to pretend I’m not on a journey toward the end. It’s not dying that terrifies me; it’s the thought of not truly living.
Beauty can be a tricky balancing act. Take, for instance, the woman who refrained from smiling for 40 years to avoid wrinkles—what a loss! Our faces tell the stories of our lives. Those laugh lines are a testament to joy and can make aging a beautiful process. Admittedly, I’ve been known to frown at the deepening crease on my forehead, which makes me look perpetually cranky, so I do what I can to soften it. Yet, even that line reflects my journey—a contemplative soul, a concerned mother, a writer striving to articulate the whirlwind of thoughts in my head. Rather than despising the lines on my face, I see them as narrative markers, each with a story to tell.
The passage of time doesn’t negate an ageless spirit; instead, it adds to the richness of our existence. Those wrinkles, gray hairs, and lines are not just signs of aging; they’re symbols of the incredible journey of being human. There’s a true beauty in the stories they unveil, a celebration of life’s lessons and experiences.
As I embrace another trip around the sun, I let go of the fear of aging. Who has time for that? We all grow older, but we can choose how we approach it. I choose to age gracefully, to live joyfully, and to welcome my years with open arms—sagging skin and all.
For more insights on navigating this journey, consider visiting our other blog posts, such as one about the at-home insemination kit. And if you’re looking for expert resources on pregnancy and home insemination, check out Healthline or explore the Cryobaby home intracervical insemination syringe kit for more information.
In summary, as I journey through the years, I embrace my age and the richness it brings, celebrating the stories etched on my face and the wisdom gained along the way.
Keyphrase: embracing aging
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]