Neither This Nor That

And that's a very good thing.

In my 20s, I felt sorry for older people with their wrinkly skin, dentures, bifocals, and sparse hair.

That old person smell. Yuck.

My mother noted my disdain and said, "You'll get there one day, too."

I didn't believe her. What did she know?

Youth feels eternal when you're in it.

Now that I’m older, I feel perpetually outraged that decay is happening without my permission.

I'm mad I haven't been spared.

One-by-one, things I'd taken for granted are drifting away.

I never sleep a continuous eight hours anymore. I wake up at least once at night and think, "Now what? Bathroom? Turn over?"

When my feet first hit the floor in the morning, I have at least two body parts complaining. More aches promise to pop up later.

Fat pads have sprouted and shifted into weird places. How could I have chunky armpits? I eat a lot less than I used to.

I can't see shit. My cataracts have ensured that both my glasses and contacts are inadequate. The other day at a restaurant, I mistook a lemon wedge for a hardboiled egg.

My husband laughed his ass off.

In my defense, the room was dimly lit. I could barely read the menu. Never trust a restaurant that isn’t confident enough to illuminate what it’s serving.

Never mind that I couldn’t hear in said restaurant. Some sounds were too loud while others were indiscernible.

What'd ya say? Eh?

I never appreciated how good I had it until things went south. En masse. I thought that sleeping, seeing, and hearing would last a while.

I wasn’t adequately forewarned (or perhaps I wasn’t listening.)

This is why yoga came into my life when it did. Or at least I think so.

The Big Eye in the Sky knew how it would go down and that I would need help. This Being either has a great sense of humor or none. I can't decide which.

Yoga teaches you are not your body. In Sanskrit, “Neti-neti nyāya” refers to “Neither this, nor that.” This phrase explains that we are not bound to the body or the mind.

The best way to describe what you are is to describe what you’re not.

Not the body. Not the mind.

We are eternal.

I'm 100% on board with this.

I definitely don't want to be associated with this saggy bag of meat anymore.

When my knee cracks, I can honestly say that's not me. That belongs to the rickety jalopy transporting me. I don't even know the driver.

I'll keep caring for my body, but I won't be surprised at its next betrayal.

I don't have control and never did.

My body is progressing its natural course.

Parts will wear out or break down.

Systems will malfunction.

Specialists and surgeons will intervene.

I will persevere, and I hope you will, too.

Don't dwell on all the things that could still go wrong. Yoga teaches us to stay present. The past and the future don’t exist.

Being alive is an opportunity that many no longer have. It's a privilege to be here.

We may as well be gracious about our great luck.

Now would you be so kind to pass the Metamucil, dear?