The Joy of Ageing
The first image growing up I had of one thing becoming old. It was close to this.
Loss of my physical prowess. Senses being dulled. My flesh becoming unrecognisable. For years I associated becoming old with becoming something else. Abstract.
Now in it’s place…
A Gentle Amnesia
As time has passed problems or issues that were major before now do not even come on the radar. Not even registering. Not that they lack importance? Just that through the tunnels of time I am battle hardened.
Not in the common negative connotation but I am learning what Self is. What I stand for. What I oppose. What I can take. Less am I now worried about societal and social aspects in my later years.
The inner voice becomes louder than before. The world as is I accept it for what I see rather than a delusion or an expectation. Reality and the joys it brings echo throughout my days.
Sure. Physically I am dying every second that passes but I feel more alive now than ever before.
Getting older is cool.