One of the things about aging that you're not directly told about is the slowly growing realization that your body is wearing out.
I'm not talking about aches and pains, or illness, or age-related changes like my gray hair... I'm talking about the subtle ways in which you realize that your "get up and go" sometimes has gotten up and went... without you.
I look at the list of things I need to get done every day and rather than just launching myself into it, there's a lag during which I find myself wishing that I could just sit at the window and watch the birds doing their spring thing.
Truth is that I am not that old — I'm 65 — and I will end up launching into aforesaid to-do list, but I can observe that my willingness and enthusiasm for doing so is slowly waning.
Sometimes I reflect on memories of "what 65 looked like when I was a kid," and it mostly looked like grandma knitting and planting flowers in the garden and grandpa building model airplanes or working on his coin collection. Few 65-year olds were energetic and dynamic and going to the gym or climbing mountains.
But then again — statistically speaking — only 15-20% of the population did not retire by age 65.
So maybe it's only "right" (biologically speaking) that we start feeling our age at this point, since biology doesn't move nearly as fast as technology.
Along with this awareness that I'm "starting to feel my age" comes the reality that I am also never going to be able to retire. Thankfully, I'm not too dependent on any kind of "heavy lifting" as my means of work... but that still doesn't address the psychological part of the equation; that little voice in my head saying "shouldn't you be slowing down?"
Regardless of these sneaking thoughts, I remind myself that my life is blessed, as compared to so many others in the world. I was doubly reminded during my recent train trip to California, where it was truly amazing and alarming how many people's lives in the USA have been reduced to living under a tarp next to the train line. Every night, something on the order of a million people in the USA are unhoused and sleeping out in the open.
That's pretty scary. And it doesn't count those living in their cars or vans, or spending their nights at shelters.
How did we get here? What went so wrong with the proverbial "American Dream?"
I'm by no means some kind of socialist or communist but I do believe we've reached a point where ostensible "free enterprise" has created a system in which work hard and get wealthy has been replaced by "win the lottery or have nothing," at least metaphorically speaking.
We idolize gazillionaires and view them as the yardstick for success, while the local guy who started a hardware store and ended up with four in his local town is considered a nobody.
Meanwhile, gazillionaire madness has led us to a place where you either are expected to reach way above your head, or perish.
What does that have to do with bodies wearing out?
Well, you get to my age at 65 and realize that you're still expected to keep going at a speed that would be challenging to a 25-year-old... and if you don't, you can look forward to living under a tarp, under an overpass, eating cat food for the rest of your life!
Am I exaggerating? Perhaps a little, but it's not that far off the mark...
Thanks for stopping by and have a great Sunday!
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2026.03.29 01:53 PST
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