Strong Body ♥ Strong Heart

I wish for you muscles at 90.

Not the flashy sort, the kind of muscles from a culture obsessed with youth.

I wish for you working muscles, pushers and pullers, muscles with an ability to impact.

I wish for you the ability to squat to the garden bed, to touch the seedlings, to foster their growth, to stand up ~ again and again ~ with ease. 

There is no good reason why you can’t.

Except this: We diminish our own capacity. By “we” I mean “us,” our culture. We believe that growing old demands an inevitable decline. We believe that growing old means becoming insignificant, a nuisance, unable.

It doesn’t.

Unless we choose it.

I wish for you to defy, dare, disobey. I wish for you obstinance, refusal to shrink.

May you remain upright. May you feel your strength. May you show it. May your let your wrinkles show, too. And your muscles. Keep your muscles and show them all!

Change this culture obsessed with youth. We need our elders. Desperately.

Beat the odds, please.

{I’m gonna. Will you join me?}

In the meantime, for today, for your younger self, I wish for you peace of mind and perspective. I wish for you a willingness to move at the right pace ~ not too fast, not too slow ~ to trust the steady progression of moderation.

I wish for you a fleshy existence, filled with your senses.

Keep moving. Refuse stagnation, reject a life mediated by screens. Enslave your technology. Take your body back.

May you pay attention. May you be curious. May you have the strength to sit with boredom, anxiety, despair. May you stop trying to fill your inside voids by consumption.

Move a heavy thing. Climb up and up and up and...

Do it now.

May you delight in your body, because the very thing we call “being alive” means being inside a body.

Your body.

This one.