Is growing older a good idea for you?

Numbers are important here. When a number ends with an 0 ( 65, 70, 75, 80, and so on), this is an occasion for celebration with parties, cards, and birthday cakes. But apart from those numbers, it’s simply a matter of marking one’s birthday on the calendar and forgetting about it.

Now the following happened to me, with a twist. Seventy went by unnoticed, except for the aforementioned celebrations. I carried on with my usual activities: walking, hiking, qigong, time at the ceramic studio hefting big bags of clay, and moving chairs around for the next meeting.

I experienced a detached feeling of pity for those plagued by knee operations, walkers, falls that broke many bones at a time, hip replacements, and Alzheimer’s.

Definitely, I was not one of them.

Then, at seventy-two, my age abruptly snared me in its net.

It started with pain above my left ankle and grew worse despite orthotics. Doctors prescribed everything from crutches (with which I nearly killed myself!) to walkers to what they called the horror instrument of walking boots. And, of course, various types of pain medications. It took me a year of couch aerobics and time away from the ceramic studio to find a podiatrist who used modern technology to cure my tendinitis.

Only a couple of weeks, and I was back into line dancing and taking part in protests. This caused shin splints, and another eighteen months of inactivity followed. So my definition of self was forced to include that I was growing older.

The body is fragile, you might have noticed. You have to be careful when picking up boxes because your back could go out. Or sitting at the computer for too long, as this can cause eyestrain and dry eyes.

Are you one of those women who fight the signs of ageing with face lifts, layers of foundation, eyeliner, and eyebrow threading to replace those disappearing eyebrows? I never have been. I did go to Macy’s and spend a hundred dollars on cosmetics. But when I tried the foundation, it felt like putting on a mask.

Not me, certainly. Looking younger than I am was not one of my priorities.

Not until I found my hair thinning. That was just too much. I ran to my hairdresser for reassurance. I even tried Hair Renew, falling for its powerful marketing that promised to stop the thinning.

All to no avail. My high fashion statement became hats.

So against my will,  I was forced to embrace my age, together with wrist and knee braces, orthotics, hearing aids, and a strict regimen of aerobics, working out, and stretches.

However, there were certain compensations in honoring the emotional truth of aging, once I allowed myself to grieve for what used to be – that real changes in energy, memory, mobility, roles, even identity can be mitigated, but not halted.

Perhaps, like me, you feel jealous of your younger self, who could hike the hills without frustration over body limitations or memory lapses. But also a tenderness for her naivety and the mistakes that you would not make now.

There is a feelin of gratitude for what remains and curiosity about what’s emerging.

You don’t have to “stay positive.” You have to stay honest and gentle with yourself.

Life gets simpler, not smaller.

Many people try to keep doing everything they did at forty. Still, life now invites a different rhythm with fewer obligations, more meaningful connections, deeper conversations, and activities that nourish rather than drain. This time invites reflection, meaning-making, and a deeper relationship with yourself.

It’s also a time to try new things. I discovered I could learn French on Duolingo and master Copilot, who (which??) answered questions on everything from how to keep salt from caking in the salt cellar to what to do when I feel lonely. I became adept at Tarot and gave workshops on how it has evolved from fortune-telling into a powerful tool for self-healing.

Many people say their later years are the most honest, interesting, and soulful of their lives.

Simplifying life isn’t shrinking — it’s refining. There’s a relief in discarding both the material and emotional things you no longer need. The most important thing is that you hold onto your purpose in life, a feeling of continuing to matter. Life continues to change as you do. Relationships evolve, some deepen, others drift, and new ones appear in surprising places.

One of the beauties of growing older is that you can be seen as you are now. There’s a quiet power in showing up with your real face, your real pace, your real needs, and your real wisdom. We become the keepers of stories and the holders of perspective in this topsy-turvy world of ours.

Trust the rhythm of your days, and the quiet magnificence of becoming more fully, more honestly – yourself!

If you’d like support in navigating pain, insomnia, stress, dark moods, or memory and mobility challenges, I’m here to help. To learn more or to schedule a free, bite-sized taste of FineArt Wellness Coaching and Reiki, contact me at shoshanakobrin@gmail.com or go to www.fineartwellness.com