I’ve been away from blogging for quite a while, except for a few friends’ obituaries that I felt compelled to write. But now I’m back to write on a subject that is very here and now for me and been on my mind for a long time.

Aging, and all the baggage that goes with it is a common topic of conversation in the circles in which I move, one which I tire of.

Are you, too, dear reader, tired of it? 

I am empathetic, though, at age 81.

As younger versions of ourselves, and naive, we said, ‘that will not be us’. Endless talk of illness, medical conditions, injuries–past and now re-presenting as arthritic joints. No, no! This is what our parents did, but we will not!

Some clever person dubbed this sort of sharing ‘the organ recital’.

I’m going to be sharing on this blog what’s happening to me as an old yogini and human. Yes, I am not going to avoid using the word ‘old’. I know that upsets people. But once I got used to saying I was old, nothing changed. I just didn’t put energy into finding euphemisms. And, if not now, when?

In my meditation this morning, a couple of thoughts popped into my head, unbidden, as they were. They both related to benefits of aging. I’ll share just one of them here, and save the other for a next post.

It seems that in the last quarter or so of one’s life, there is potentially more time and space to notice things. Perhaps It’s because there’s not so much rushing about. The other day I paused to admire the shadows of the gum trees outside the Yoga Shed projected on the wall, looking like lacework. I caught my breath. Ephemeral, and gone in a blink. Another mindful moment came when I noticed the Kalanchoe blossoms woven onto to the cables of my deck, perfectly symmetrical, in the way the Nature is often not. 

What might you notice today?

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