Birthday Reflections

It's my birthday today.

I gotta be honest.

I’ve been ignoring my birthdays for a few years… not making a big deal.

Not remembering how old I am.

Shocked when I’m reminded.

It’s super weird transitioning into that age where the culture, society, doctors, young people – define you as old.

There is no escaping it.

If I hear of a 67-year-old getting killed in a car accident, I think – how sad, at least they were old.

So I’m trying to figure out how to deal with all this.

Because that 67-year-old is me! And I don’t feel old.

I know I look at least 10 years younger than I am — not because of any age-defying process but because of genetics. Looking youthful runs in my family.

That makes it even harder for me to think of myself in the way society defines me: old. Which equals frail. An illness waiting to happen.

But my friends are getting ill and dying.

And I’m not foolish enough to believe that I have immunity.

So, I tell myself that I’d better worry about my health, to be prepared, because I’m at the age where everything falls apart.

I mean, the evidence is everywhere.

You know the first question that people ask when someone dies?

How old were they?

Why do we ask this question?

I believe it’s so we can get evidence that they were older than we are.

But now, for me, that’s not always the case.

So do I pretend I’m younger than I am? Pass myself off as someone in their early fifties, starting to move into peri-menopause and menopause?

Or do I embrace my age – post 65 – old, as society defines it?

And how do I deal with the health anxiety – the part of me that thinks anxiety is a reminder to take care of myself (now that I’m “old”)?

Problem is, health anxiety makes my health worse.

Worry just makes me avoid living.

And then another part of me says, listen… you play pickleball three times a week. You walk. You look great – even if you could lose a few pounds. You’re fine. Your mother is 97 years old and still with us. You have tons of time to live. And anyway, no one knows how old you are. Forget about age as a concept.

Problem is that I get physically sore from pickleball and walking and sometimes from turning over in bed (omg).

And when I believe that part, I ignore my body when it’s essential to listen.

I mean, I must stretch. I can’t eat everything whenever I want to.

So is there another choice?

I’m finding a middle ground. A deeper truth in the center of this culturally induced old-age hurricane.

I was never my body.

I was never my face.

I was always this heart and soul and energy.

An Essence.

And that hasn’t changed.

That doesn’t get old.

What I keep forgetting is… my essence, that ageless part of me that is my life force, living inside this body.

She doesn’t get frail or ill.

She wants me to know that I have lots to contribute.

That while my body has her own schedule and trajectory, I can take good care of her because this is my earthly vehicle.

I’m not old, or young.

I am an ageless Essence.

A Soul.

An old Soul.

That’s always been true – and it’s the biggest of compliments.

It’s the biggest gift.

I’m not old.

I am ageless.

I am an old soul.

And when I’m inhabiting that energy, I’m not buying all the cultural messages about age that feel so untrue — that I know don’t belong to me.

At the same time, when I’m inhabiting that energy, I care for my physical body because that’s my vehicle for this life.

So on this post-65-year-old birthday — that age when the culture says you are “old” — I respectfully replace “old” with my soul’s truth.

I am an ageless spirit, an old soul, and I’m here to express my unique life force in whatever way feels like the most fun.

And yes, I’ll start doing my stretching exercises and do the things that are medically recommended for bodies of my age… but they don’t define me.

I define me.

And I acknowledge that I’ll still be bombarded with age-related illness and frailty and purposelessness messages from the culture, but I’ll maintain an energetic boundary to prevent those messages from infiltrating my consciousness.

I will tap into my spirit and energy each day and use that to fuel me.

So there!

🥳 Happy birthday to me.

What might shift if you stopped seeing your body as proof of aging, and started seeing it as the vessel for your ageless soul?

This is your Soul Nudge.