How does it feel to shift your thinking from aging to transformation?
I feel like it's going to take some getting used to.
When I notice the incredible diversity and exquisite, raw beauty
of decaying logs and stumps, it becomes somewhat easier...
especially when there is new life growing from decaying wood.
Aging calls for its own kind of grace.
A seesaw between accepting the creaks and groans and relinquishing to them;
and refusing to let them rule your days...moving anyway, staying young hearted.
Not giving in to the age old (no pun intended) story
that we diminish as we age. Rather, making our story
one of transformation into something vibrant, fertile and lively.
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