The best part about getting older…

Aging is an amazing thing.

I love the new horizons, the adventures and surprises. No, not the newest app, the new relationship or the new venture. I’m talking about what’s happening within the boundaries of my skin, the recesses of my brain and heart.

Changes in my body, not wholly unexpected, challenge me to adopt a graceful approach to a process; a process we are conditioned to abhor. The intangible gifts, what we call wisdom and knowledge — insights gained exclusively through many years of living — the new perspectives emerging from that, far exceed in value the “loss” of capabilities the young worship.

I don’t care that it takes me longer to poop. When I’m done peeing, there’s dribble from time to time down my leg. That makes me laugh. It doesn’t frighten me that I can no longer run 10 miles, because I ran my knees into the ground in my youth as a long-distance runner. It doesn’t concern me that I now prefer “granddad jeans” or that I no longer attract the gaze of the young. Those are life’s punchlines. I welcome them.

There was a time when aging was revered. “Old people” were “Elders,” and were honored for many things — having lived so long sure, but also for wisdom gained from all that living. We knew them too as Wise Men, Shamans, Spirit Seekers and more. We all know how aging is seen today. Frankly, I’m surprised by this. And not surprised.

Social conditioning is a magic trick. It fools us into giving up the important for the unimportant. Money, success, being sexually desired, social media stardom, “co-founder” status, corporate prominence, etc., these are social conditioning’s sleight of hand masking what’s really important: life, living, unconditional joy, precursors to joy (aka pain, injustice, tragedy, sadness); adventures we take for granted, such as seeing the world change before our eyes and participating in that, seeing our bodies change before our eyes and participating in that, seeing our relationships change before our eyes and being responsible for those changes; then recognizing and appreciating the letting go that is a natural part of all this.

Sure, letting go feels hard. It feels so hard we tend to do the opposite. That’s why plastic surgeons are so busy and people like Demi Moore have aging-related breakdowns. Releasing our grip of this material experience in favor of a more ephemeral view doesn’t seem easy but it can be. Life helps, making the process gradual. Like it or not, resistance is futile. And painful. Just ask Demi and those who love her.

Letting go sneaks up on us. And in that is the opportunity: to constantly seek the elusive perspective that sees aging as a mystical journey of proportions so epic they exceed words’ descriptive capability.

I’m not making a religious point. I’m not saying the material world is something to ignore. There is great joy in indulging in all that. My life is far more profound however bearing witness to the life process — aka “getting old”, including the gradual loss of capabilities that peak in youth and the gradual gains that come as the years pass.

I’m 50. I wouldn’t trade the days I’m living, nor the days ahead for all the days I lived in my 20s and 30s. The joy, empowerment, capability and wisdom gained in these 50 years makes my life the joy that it is.

The best part of getting older is getting older.