I remember thinking 41 is old. Super old. Like “Dad” old. “9 years away from 50, and by then you’re practically dead.” would say my 11 year old self. And even now, my eternally young spirit doesn’t relate much to this “41” label. A dichotomy revealing infinite and finite partners not necessarily seeing from the same eye. While one decays, the other knows nothing of this. Compassionately seeing the finite as something that is what it is. A passing state.

Sophocles wrote “No one longs to live more than someone growing old.” A wonderful reminder to fill your life with magic no matter the age. Remembering your spirit’s infinite potential more and more with each passing day. Instead of struggling with this thing called ‘getting older,’ be at peace with it. Begin a gentle chat with your body. Consciously dance with it. Respect it. Fill it with the light of your soul. Practice saying these words to it: “Be still and know that I am God.” See what happens. Feel the peace of stillness floating over you with this simple sentence. Giving your structure permission to rest. Then, when it feels right, get up and give it everything you’ve got.

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