Tuesday, November 8, 2011

If Age is a State of Mind, Why Do My Joints Crack When I Stand Up?

I have been told that I don’t look my age.  I’ve also been told that I don’t act my age.  But lately, my body has made a point of reminding me that I AM my age.*  If I were to stand up right now, something would snap, crackle, or pop.  Maybe all three.  And the problem is, there’s not a darn thing I can do about it.

There are moisturizers that promise the appearance of younger looking skin.  Exercises that tone and tighten out-of-shape muscles, and undergarments to do the same thing for those who don’t like exercise.   We can dye our hair, bleach our teeth, get Botox and microdermabrasion.  We can wear clothing that is not age appropriate while listening to Justin Bieber.  But at the end of the day, aren’t we who we are for a reason?  And doesn’t it all make us the one person that only we can be? 

I wonder if this is nature’s way of reminding us to stretch ourselves. I’m talking about extending ourselves far beyond what we think we can grasp, toward our potential.  Not losing sight of what we once wanted, but twisting and turning, adjusting our posture a little, craning our necks to see around the obstacles that cropped up along the way, working out the kinks in our progress.  So go ahead and reach for the stars.  Aside from a little snap, crackle, and pop, what’s the worst that can happen?

*Early-ish forties, if you must know, although it is impolite to ask.

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