There is a story I told myself for years about how I would age.
I would age well. Stay active. Stay relevant. Be one of those men who at 70 looks 55 and hasn't received the memo.
I am 67. The memo arrived. I appear to have signed for it without noticing.
The reading glasses have multiplied like rabbits and can never be found. Heavy meals after eight o'clock now carry consequences. I have started lowering myself into chairs rather than simply sitting in them, and I genuinely cannot identify when that began.
Here's what I've learned though: the story we tell ourselves about ageing is almost always about maintaining. Staying. Holding the line. It's the wrong story — and letting go of it turns out to be considerably more interesting than holding on.
Full piece on Substack tomorrow at 3pm: https://theoldgreythinker.substack.com
If you're rewriting the story, this might help: https://greythinker.gumroad.com/l/yztcbh
If the writing helped, some readers buy me a Pot of Yorkshire Tea. I’m English and run my days on tea. It’s one of the ways I keep this work independent. I appreciate every kindness — truly.