The hardest thing in which to find "the gift" will be in the increasing physical limitations that come with age. Remember that 80-year-old Swede we were all told about 40 years ago (or was he merely 60?) Then, he was something to aspire to as I aged. Now, he taunts me.
I, like many people my age, have osteoarthritis. Mine is in my spine, my knees and my hips. I try not to let it "slow me down." I walk! I walk in long races; I walk with a walking group; I hike. And, occasionally, like this month (suffering from a baker's cyst), I have to stop to heal because to continue to walk would be foolish and self-destructive.
The gift in this? I have some possible ideas but none of them seem exactly right. Perhaps it's the gift of being aware of, and grateful to, my body and to start to recognize that my body is not separate and subordinate to me. It is me. The abuse of youthful excesses and mid-life career demands to go without sleep weren't done to another entity, they were done to myself. And now I have the opportunity to care for my very own self.
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