I have often wondered about ‘health’ experts who sing from their tree top pole home in the jungle about the amazing things they do to extend their life. They will quite regularly look wizened and almost glowing with the hardened texture of gristle left out on the sun too long. As someone who has the body texture of smooth play doh, I look at them with both admiration for their commitment and pity for what they have foregone.
I sat with a number of elderly people at a Christmas party over the holidays, the audience singing or watching gently the activities occurring. They seemed content to enjoy a glass of wine and a piece of white Christmas instead of chewing hardened bark or multitudes of supplements. A number of the residents almost seemed resigned to this stage in their life. They seemed tired and their 80 or 90 years on this planet was more than enough. There was a sense of contentment. A job done.
As I move through the stages of life, I’m grateful for the years behind me and hopefully the future ones won’t fly by too quick. But do I want to give up the comforts of some of the padding I enjoy now? I like a morning at Pilates but mostly for the familiar faces I see each day and the giggle when someone swears quietly at the instructor for pushing us to do more. I love a dinner with friends and one too many margaritas. Far more fun than celery juice and smoothies that taste of lawn clippings.
If all the fun adds up to living any reasonable time with friends and family walking with me through the days, then I feel lucky for every morning I wake up. I’m just not prepared to miss out on any of the guts of life I’ve worked hard to be present for.
Lisa Wright - Writer 
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