The Arms of Life

I’ve always thrown myself into the arms of life.  They either embrace me or beat me with a club.  Wisdom born of pain.  Ankle and knee pain keeps me from throwing myself into anything anymore. The fear of falling.  More cautious physically, emotionally, and mentally as I have become more fragile.  Normal.  Aging gracefully is a goal.

How?  Fragility breeds delicacy and gentleness. Rather than fight or resent the process of time, I want to be in the time as fully as possible.  We lament the aging process, as if it is the inevitable path to illness, suffering, and death.  Although the physical death is a given, the suffering and illness are not.  Quality of life is the key to longevity, and each moment contains the potential for infinite quality.  Each moment offers opportunities for mystical experiences, like the moon through oaks and Spanish moss on a foggy night.  Finding the right word for the sentence.  Looking for misplaced information, examining the context, the feelings, the intensity of the process.  Mundane activities offer multidimensional opportunities to be here now.

1 thought on “The Arms of Life

  1. Bebe Willoughby

    I like what you’re saying. It’s positive and I so love the positive. I don’t like mundane chores, but I try to gain something when I do them. Thanks. See you soon.


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