Staying young takes time

I began keeping this blog in September 2005; I had just celebrated my 50th birthday. My posts then, were punchy, funny and filled with observations from my busy life.

Since retiring in 2020, I have theoretically had plenty of me-time but, needing to feel needed, I devoted much of this ‘free’ time to the organisation of which I am a member, the SGI (Soka Gakkai International). This Buddhist organisation has been a huge help to me over the years. I have been able to change many things that were making me unhappy, so repaying the favour felt right. That is, until last year when there was a perfect storm of ‘unfortunate events’ in my personal life and many organisational responsibilities in my Buddhist role, at the end of which I hit a brick wall. It felt like a breakdown but I think its better described as a brick wall. As a result, I could do no more. Making even the simplest of decisions threw me into a minor panic. I quit my role as a leader, withdrawing from any responsibility for activities.

My friends: fellow members and others, insisted I should put myself first. I had no idea how to ‘put myself first’. My life until then had been about doing things for others – in return for their gratitude. Before I could move on I needed to recognise this need for affirmation. It’s been surprisingly easy with the help of my sister, who can channel for me the universe’s advice, and a wonderful spiritual healer I have met recently. Taking what they gave me, I began meditating. I still chant Nam Myoho Renge Kyo of course but in a less disciplined manner. Now I concentrate much more on my health, both mental and physical (still struggling with the food addiction but I’m trying).

But, this self-care takes up SO MUCH TIME.

Starting at the top of my body and working down, the first time-thief is my hair. I no longer dye it but I do cut it myself with mixed success. I’ve always hacked away at my mop. I’m blessed with thick wavy hair so mistakes are often hidden. When I was younger, I would gather it into a bunch, straight up on the top of my head and saw through it leaving a cascade of layers. Now though, it’s a bit shorter, a lot shorter actually, and cutting it is a progressive activity that goes something like this:
Horace makes a remark, ‘You’ve got two lovely hair styles, Mum, one at the front and one at the back,’ or more recently, when I was quite enjoying my look, ‘I like the fringe.’ This was one of those tactful remarks that I interpreted to be ‘damning with faint praise’. Remembering her comment about the imbalance between back and front, I cut the back by feel, then the sides, then, every time I passed a mirror, I would see a bit I’d missed and snip that off. Restyling is a gradual process for me and I have hair cutting scissors in the bedroom and the kitchen.

We’re off to Lancashire to stay with Horace over Easter so I await her judgement. To be frank, I don’t care much what it looks like. With an arse the size of mine, anything that draws attention, even negatively, to my head is a benefit.

Moving down from the hair we arrive at the eyes: varifocal glasses, reading glasses, computer glasses, prescription sunglasses (I’ll come back to these) a developing cataract and dry eyes. This latter causes me to spend a few minutes each morning behind a warm eye pad (not the digital variety) opening the tear ducts, then careful massaging down and up with special eye-wipes to force out any cloggages (I know this is not a word). According to my optician it works so I continue to do it.

On the matter of the sun glasses, I wear them when driving in sunny weather and they are very helpful. The problem is that I forget I’m wearing them when I get out of the car. I once accused my incredulous mum of sitting in the dark – I even put her lights on but it didn’t make much difference. Very recently, Mavis and I had a lovely few days in Stratford Upon Avon. On the day we arrived, I had organised a back stage tour of the RSC and yes, you guessed it, I was still wearing my sunglasses. Back stage! Unlike Mum’s lounge it truly was dark. I had to choose between blurry and invisible and definitely felt an idiot.

Next down my body we come to teeth. Food now lodges itself between spaces that once did not exist. Tooth cleaning involves the bi-daily (is that a word?) ritual of pushing interden bushes of varying sizes in and out of the gaps then rinsing with mouthwash, then applying the toothbrush with sensitive toothpaste then spitting out the foam, without rinsing of course.

After the teeth we reach the lungs that recently became rather tight so I began using an inhaler – two puffs, twice a day. I’m glad to say I’m managing to reduce this to one puff, once a day. As the inhaler can cause thrush in the mouth, I rinse my mouth in the tooth routine after the interden brushes, oh I’m a girl of habit!

We’ll gloss over the stomach to the hips, which began to hurt when I walked. I have a built up shoe and a hospital review of my height revealed that I had shrunk, and to a greater extent, so had the leg so I needed another 6mm added to my uplift.

Then there’s the sun damage to my shins – needs much moisturising.

Down to the fungal big toenail. Antifungal stuff applied morning and night.

BUT contrary to the evidence, I do not give in to the view that life will only get worse.

Deciding Yoga might help, I discovered the fantastic Dr Hansa Yogendra while searching YouTube.

I’m going to pause here to describe my experience of finding the right yoga video. As I mentioned, my hips can be painful – albeit helped by the shoe uplift. I also carry the bulk of my weight on my hips and thighs. I would once have described myself as pear-shaped but now I am more comparable to a cottage loaf.

So, heading (very) speedily towards 70 and aware of my limitations, I looked in YouTube for Yoga for beginners. Well!!! The video I settled on first starred an extremely bendy, slender woman in her 30s who performed some ‘simple’ exercises by folding herself from the waist or hips into various shapes. I can actually touch my toes but I have this stomach that kinda gets in the way of folding. I gave it all a go with much grunting and eventually giggling as I rolled about on my extra thick yoga mat (purchased to save being injured by the floor when prone – me, not the floor. In my experience the floor is always prone). I sat up and watched the rest of the video in disbelief that any beginner, let alone one with my build, could contort themselves into such positions. I gave up on it and rejected several others before finding Dr Yogendra of the Yoga Institute, a lady who reminded me of a tough-loving mother. Although she didn’t actually wag her finger at me, she persuaded me with great authority that her way is the wise way. I did worry at first because, like the afore mentioned video, she had a lithe young person demonstrating the moves (asana) but I was reassured when she tempered her instructions with advice to stop if I felt pain. I further hesitated when, In her weight-loss video, the lovely doctor says something along the lines of ‘losing weight is easy, it just needs will power.’ Well Duh, thought I, but I forgave her because I needed a wise mum to help me.

This morning, on Dr Y’s instructions, I drank lemon water with soaked chia seeds in it, walked briskly for 30 minutes, did my yoga (it was a bit easier than yesterday) then ate a breakfast of oatmeal soaked overnight in water (I might add a little apple juice next time), nuts, strawberries and banana. I cleaned my teeth, took my inhaler, did my eyes, moisturised my legs, added fungal treatment to my big toe and snipped off a bit of stray hair – hoovered the floor to clear up the hair, nipped out to buy some walnuts for tomorrow, meditated, chanted, and there I was, midday. I could get on with my ‘life’.

I am 70 – give or take – and I spent my entire morning on self-maintenance. What will I be doing at 80? Will it take all day? Where will my ‘life’ be then? Who will write my blog posts? Perhaps, if my own mother is anything to go by, I won’t sleep as much as I once did and I can have my ‘life’ in the darkness.

Oh no, I might need special night vision glasses!