The findings suggest that many of our expectations about the inevitability of physical decline with advancing years may be incorrect and that how we age is, to a large degree, up to us.
Aging remains a surprisingly mysterious process.
--from an article in New York Times
But then, posers and mysteries abound. Wondering.
Why is awareness so heightened here I can barely get a few hours sleep?
Why such pleasure in washing my clothes by hand and hanging them on a line?
The same for the pleasing inconvenience of washing dishes in a plastic bowl with hot water carried in a bucket from the bathroom?
Why am I stuck on backbend and so in love with the Ashtanga system?
Why such joy in the chill predawn darkness riding the scooter with the wind in my face?
Why the wee smile while haggling prices with those bad boys—the auto rickshaw drivers?
Why is it both deliciously comfortable and uncomfortable sitting on my rolled mat often in the cold for my turn to practice in the mornings?
Why the heart pounding excitement about collaborative art project with D?
When did the cultural differences that used to annoy me become funny?
Why does working at People for Animals beckon and inspire me to work there? Why do I often resist?
Why the enjoyment (can't find the right words - neutral enjoyment? the aliveness?) in moments of fear or loneliness?
Why are people so exquisitely beautiful? And sometimes so exquisitely horrible?
And finally, why do I dread the 30 hour trip home with our wild thing kitten?!!!
Someone said last week, we like it here because we are out of our comfort zone.
I don't know. I just hope I never get back to it.
Take me to the river! Wash me in the water!
And this too is yoga.