Body Aches and Wisdom: On Aging

My birthday is this month. I will be fifty-five, or Freedom 55 as the adage or pithy insurance advertising slogan suggests. 

Not entirely coincidentally, my age plus years of work equals eighty-five. I will soon be free from my full-time career, but in this economy, it is not possible for me to be utterly free from paid work. I have a mortgage. I have a line of credit. I helped my three sons with post-secondary education. But I also have meaningful part-time jobs that, luckily enough, bring in streams of income that should nicely balance out my now-smaller monthly income until I am no longer as physically and mentally able. 

And though yes, I am blessed to be able-bodied, my body does, in fact, work against me many, if not most, mornings. In winter mornings, putting on socks is not easy. During the night, rolling over is often a painful affair. Reaching down to feed my darling cats in the morning is also no easy feat, for I have much back pain, which I am sure is attributable to spinal arthritis. My mother suffers from arthritis, as did my maternal grandmother. 

Though I inherited much from my mother, she has not always been my biggest supporter. Just last month, she cited a fact she read: that my arthritis will be much worse than hers because I played impact sports, and continue to do so. I would love to see her sources or find any doctor who advises against physical activity, but she has always, almost always, frowned upon my athletics. However, she seems to be a supporter of my golfing: aside from Scrabble, golf is the one activity or pastime we share. 

Now that I am well into my fifties, I do see much more of myself in my mother, though I can’t see well at all. I now begrudge time, not my mother, for my horrible eyesight— its decline is timed nicely with the new coarse chin hairs that elude it until I look in the car’s rearview mirror. And though I can barely reach my toenails to paint them, there is genuinely a sense of freedom with age.

 Others’ opinions mattered so much to my younger self.  I was also riddled with self-doubt in my twenties and thirties, some days with self-loathing. I was never entirely comfortable in my own skin until well into my forties.

Though my body often defies me, I continue to be highly active. I play soccer several times a week all summer long. Throughout the winter months, I love to ski, both alpine and Nordic, and at the gym, I enjoy body-toning and yoga classes all year round.

I have discovered, as I age, that moving my body is beneficial for both my physical and mental well-being, but I have also been gifted with far richer blessings as time marches on. I have never felt more certain of myself. I have never felt so productive, nor so efficient. I have never felt so wise. I have never given so much of myself to the wider community. I have never felt more settled. I have never felt so creative. I have never cared so little about what others think of me. And that, my friends, is true freedom.