There’s not much that can be said about aging that makes you feel better about it.  We all do it everyday…it beats the alternative…you look good for your age.  I don’t care how reconciled you are to it, it’s still a shock when you have to check the box that says “over 60,” which implies that everyone over 60 is the same or is lumped in the same group with all your new age companions who may be 80 or 100.  Up until then, you were in your teens, 20s, 30s, 40s or 50s and now you’re one of those old ones.  I just saw a series of pictures of women titled “Beautiful at Any Age” in People magazine that ended when they got to 59.  Really?

I’m in some denial – maybe more than some.  It’s not like I haven’t had to deal with life and death and don’t know it’s coming to me, too.  It’s that the time between now and then is shorter.  I know that any of us could be gone at any minute, but that’s even a harder concept to accept.  So, I’m trying to live healthier so that no matter how long I live, it’s a better quality.  My wonderful young doctor has given me terrific books to read…Younger Next Year and The Program…that explain how our bodies change and how we can program our brains to change our habits.  Today, I heard Dr. Andrew Weil speak on healthy aging.  I loved his idea that what we should aspire to is healthy living with compressed morbidity.  In other words, live well until we die.  I love his thoughts on our society’s lack of respect for the aging.  I can only hope that my children will act like the people of Okinawa when I get old old (I’m just old now) and fight to see who gets to take care of me.  I really know they love me, but that’s asking a lot.

Today, I was inspired.  I’ve been walking a lot, eating well…or at least better than I had been…reducing stress, thinking healthy thoughts, taking my vitamins, breathing deep.  Today, I was going to immediately start buying exotic organic foods and preparing them beautifully for myself and not ever have a sweetened drink again.  I got sidelined when I had to run to Target.  On my way out, I strolled down the Christmas candy aisles and almost drooled at the pre-programmed memories of all those candies and cookies.  I’m not fooling myself that I can write them out of my life easily or completely.  I don’t know if I’m that tough or programmable.  Or want to be.

But…I didn’t buy anything.  I came home and ate edamame for dinner.  That candy still sounds good….