60: (January 2026)
This year seems to have gotten off to a rough start for many people. Aside from the incredible strife in our country and the world, which creates a generalized level of underlying stress, a number of close friends and family members are dealing with horrible cases of the flu, elderly parents who are gravely ill or have passed away, falls on the ice, and even dog bites. I usually love the feel of the New Year and all the freshness that it brings, but this year has come in with a weary feel to it.
A good antidote is a book I just read, Theo of Golden by Allen Levi, which offers a way to feel joy and help others at the same time by doing anonymous acts of kindness and generosity for strangers. It is an inspiring tale that left me wondering how it might be possible to do that too, in whatever small ways, in my own life. It won’t solve any big problems, but it might make the world feel just a little softer.
It is also helpful to remember how important it is for one’s well-being to attend to the senses: sight, sound, smell, taste, touch. Noticing—really noticing—the things we experience through our senses can nourish and fortify the spirit and heart, and by making small changes, we might be reawakened to the simple pleasures possible in day-to-day life.
For example, instead of rushing through meals, I’m going to try to practice slow eating by placing my fork down between bites, remembering to truly taste everything I am putting into my mouth. Lighting candles with dinner and through these dark evenings can add beauty and a sense of comfort to an ordinary meal, as can drinking my nightly tea in a china teacup instead of a cracked mug.
By engaging with our senses with greater intention, we are actively participating in life more fully, rather than passively letting life just happen. So savor the moments, and bring flowers into the house! Take delight in the sun glistening on the snow in the early morning light. Make little things beautiful, and take time to enjoy them. Or do an anonymous act of kindness for someone, and don’t be surprised if a little happiness bounces right back at you.
40: (January 2006)
I have tennis elbow. I wish I could say that I got it by playing a glamorous game of competitive tennis. But, no. I got tennis elbow from lying on my bed and reaching underneath for one of my dog’s balls. At least it was a tennis ball. In one of the most truly inelegant moves of my life, I managed to wedge my arm in between the bed frame and mattress, getting my elbow stuck. I impatiently wrenched it free, damaging the tendon and triggering a full-blown case of tennis elbow, which had apparently been brewing due to other equally nonathletic activities, like typing, playing the piano, and hauling water and manure in the barn.
That was four months ago. I guess I have a stubborn streak, because I kept hoping it would get better without medical intervention. Alas, the pain increased significantly over time, so I finally sought help a few weeks ago. We did some things to reduce the pain and internal inflammation, but mostly, I have to rest it. Rest it! I hate those words. Slow down! Those are in the same category. I think they irk me to such a degree because of my age. I feel like “resting” wastes valuable time; time that I do not have in front of me as much as I used to. Time is at a premium, and resting tampers with it.
I guess I ought to be paying more attention to my body though, as I continue to grow into the middle years. Case in point, if I had not been so careless with my arm, I wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. Just when my sense of mortality is kicking in more, making me feel a greater sense of urgency to accomplish things in my life, my body is testing the brake pedal, whereas I never used to know I had one. I can only imagine what this will feel like in 20 or 30 years.
I ask myself, “What is my body trying to teach me? What lessons can I learn from this?” I have a few months to find out. I will try to be open to what taking life a little slower has to offer. I will try to pay more attention to my physical body before it has to scream out in pain to be heard. And I won’t let tennis balls into the house, even if my dog does love them.
60-40:
And here I am 20 years later, and I just got over another bout of tennis elbow. This time it took five months for the pain to subside. I had been lifting two-pound weights for a few months, which I increased to three-pounders, and then four. Yup, the four pounds did me in. It sounds so pathetic. I don’t feel like I’m such a wimp, but I guess I have parts of my body that are simply more fragile than I would like to admit.
Being patient and slowing down, whether it be to listen to my body or to savor the sweetness in life, is simply something I have to be reminded of over and over. But that’s okay. With the world reeling in so many ways these days, it is a particularly good time to be gentle with ourselves and each other. Take good care.
60-40 