Getting old is the greatest challenge of my life. It is a life-and-death grudge match, a winner-take-all fight to the finish, an all-out war to the very end. It is intense. Every day brings another battle, will I press on, or will I surrender? Will I stand and move forward, or sit and wait for the inevitable? Challenge follows challenge because pain is now the price of overcoming. I can choose to sit still, or I can continue on with this partnership of pain and living. Getting old, for me, has become that simple: accept the pain, shove it aside, and keep living. I live outdoors, in the woods, under the sky, in the work of seeing, building, tending, holding on, and experiencing life fully. Yet all of it now comes with pain: some nagging, some sharp, some downright darnable. That, for me, is life now. And that is the final offer, live or merely exist; create or withdraw; experience the present or live only in memories of my past, engagement, or divorce. Really, it comes down to choosing the joy of living, even when that joy includes pain. My body has racked up the miles, 68 years. Every joint, tendon, muscle, limb, the whole, has accumulated miles from living life full-on. And still, oh, the joy of living. The daily invitation of life itself. The abundance of pledging one’s troth anew to the Holy One, who still whispers to my worn and aging body: “I have come to give you life, and life to the full.”
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| We bike in the woods every morning. Living is so much better with a partner who also chooses to live. |




