This body is aging.

There’s no denying. No point in trying.

I’m still young, no doubt, but I feel the years slowly building. There’s no cry, no lament, no ashes. Instead there is a very welcome, and very happy celebration.

This body is aging!

I am leaving behind the sickness of youth. That young man’s folly of hard effort, over reaching, over striving, over carving reality to try to make it fit my own ideas and goals. As the supple skin and round glow of youth passes, I find this slowly drying body is paradoxically turning into water.

The Me this body encases seems to be liquefying, flowing, following new courses. Instead of attacking situations, I slowly dissolve them.

I have given up fighting. Fighting against things, fighting for things, fighting sickness…all of it.

I find myself in co-operation. I find myself proving my point less, listening more. I have less answers, but far more surety.

I have found that gratitude and acceptance have changed my life for the better, slowly carving out a place in me to contain silence.

I am alive.

I may have pain, but I choose not to suffer.

I may have setbacks, but I choose not to fail.

I am alive.

I am filled with awe for this. I am alive on a living earth, surrounded by the living and the dead.

The dead.

The living.

And the rising sun.

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