Author: HairWeavings Editorial Team

As my 60s flew by, the rate of physical change escalated. Some metamorphoses were anticipated, like graying hair, wrinkles, and age spots. Some I noted with acceptance: tiring more quickly, achy body after strenuous work, and shape-shifting, as in waist disappearing and breasts sagging.

I say I noted with acceptance. That isn’t quite true about the breasts.

Mom bought my first brassiere when I was 12, a 36C. I was embarrassed and a little proud that I was the first of my friends to acquire that badge of feminine development. It fit poorly but as clueless as I was, I continued to buy that size into my 20s when a helpful department store employee insisted on fitting me with the proper bra for my shape. I left with a 32D underwire harness. 

When sports bras appeared on the retail scene, I wondered why I would wear something that smashed my breasts into my chest and had to be girdle-tight to keep me contained. But I tried several brands. Theoretically, without the underwire, they should have been more comfortable. Rather than being supported from below, my shoulders would do the heavy lifting. In no time, painful throbbing spread across my entire upper back. 

As larger-busted ladies can attest, these appendages are hardly ever a blessing. So, this morning, as I debated between the underwire or the girdle bra feeling grumpy about both, I realized that my intolerance for physical discomfort has grown proportionately with my age. That spurred me to contemplate other ways I’ve become less tolerant. Here’s my list. Maybe you can relate. 

What I can no longer tolerate with any measure of grace:

Bras

I abhor them, although I also hate how my breasts flop around when unrestrained. There are no good answers here.

Noise

I’m best with silence or the peaceful sounds of nature. Too much loud music, loud talking, loud anything, and my fight or flight response gets activated.

Clutter

I have an almost obsessive need to organize disorder, straighten even a slightly crooked picture, and maintain a feeling of unencumbered spaciousness in my home. I have no such compulsions in the homes of others.

Dull or Stupid Movies

So many of them are these days. After a couple of minutes, if I start feeling itchy, I turn off the TV and pick up a book.

Self-Absorbed Individuals

I don’t need to associate with people who can only talk about themselves, rarely if ever ask questions of others, and pay no attention to any conversation that isn’t about them.

Bad Writing

If a story is worth telling, it deserves to be polished and spit-shined before it’s published.

Unruly Children or Pets

It’s not their fault, it’s the negligence of their handlers who allow their bad behavior to go unchecked.

Rudeness

If unprovoked, there’s no excuse for it. 

Those are the biggies that make me grind my teeth. 

So, back to this morning, when I was debating what form of torture to choose instead of opting to fly free – a package was due to arrive that required my signature. I would be scrutinized by another human and judged. I don’t mind being old, I just don’t want to be old AND floppy in the presence of strangers. So, I suited up. 

Just now, a call came canceling that delivery. Hold on. Please excuse me while I shed my undergarment – this skintight lycra camisole with built-in bra – and free my bosom. 

Ahhhhh! Sweet relief! 

At some point, will I no longer care what others think? Will I ever get that old? Or that enlightened? Until then it’s, “Harness up, Sherry!”

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Do you find yourself more or less easily irritated now compared to when you were younger? What situations trigger your intolerance? How well do you tolerate physical discomfort?

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Photo +ID: @rhoc_emilysimpson

Originally posted at: Emily Simpson’s Longsleeve Floral Dress

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Photo: @erindanalichy

Originally posted at: Erin Lichy’s White Smock Top

Sylvi lived in a forested town by a river with her menagerie of animals, a dog, two cats, and the many wild birds and squirrels that had come to love her daily attention. She was approaching her 73rd year, and as she reflected on her past, especially since the death of her husband nearly a decade ago, she perceived something extraordinary about herself, hidden until now.

Thinking back to her younger years, she’d been a whirlwind of activity, raising three children, working in the family business, and participating socially and culturally in her community. She took pride in her organizational skills – knowing exactly where everything was – and her sharp memory, never missing a birthday or failing to take into account the culinary preferences of her frequent guests.

She Noticed a Series of Changes

Recently, she’d noticed gradual changes in her way of being. She noticed that she was becoming less particular about remembering details – dates, names, titles. While the opinions of others, the latest happenings, and even the holidays had once seemed so important, they no longer held as much significance.

She wasn’t pursuing new relationships because she had a circle of trusted friends, but if an acquaintance blossomed in due course into a closer connection, she would welcome it. She also noticed how good it felt to slow down in the midst of whatever she was doing and with a cup of English tea let her thoughts find a quiet refuge. A wave of intuition might wash over her unpredictably.

At first Sylvi had resisted these incremental changes. It could be annoying when she forgot the lyrics to a favorite oldie-but-goodie or when she couldn’t remember where she’d left her keys. Why constantly reprimand herself that she wasn’t able to keep it entirely in her head these days – did she actually need to?

She could easily look up the words of the song on the Internet, and she’d make a mental note to put her keys directly in their usual spot first thing upon returning. Why dampen her spirit over this? Better to learn to accept some forgetfulness in a brain that was already overloaded with information, much of it trivial, and to improvise a solution.

An Expanding Mind

Then one evening while out in the garden admiring the golden light as the sun set over the mountain, she had an epiphany. No, her mind was not betraying her – it was expanding, synthesizing, and making sense of the whole picture, finding context for all she had experienced in an effort to discover her life’s elusive pattern. Could it be that this was a natural human tendency as one ages, and if so, did she have the courage to let her mind move in that direction?                                                                                           

She understood the wisdom of consciously allowing previous sufferings – even the egregious “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” – to fade. How important were they to her today? She was no longer the person she once was and had no wish to relive those times in the same manner she had experienced the events then (even if that were possible). She’d also come to realize profoundly how unreliable and selective memory can be.

We Are Complex Creatures

Moreover, her heart’s desires for adventure, love, and children had magnanimously come to fruition, gifts for which she was exceedingly thankful as they had not only filled her with joy but softened the edges of her earlier hardships.

To be fair, she was no saint herself. She’d made plenty of mistakes, not willfully or maliciously, but nonetheless their effects had hurt other people. In admitting this almost confessionally, she released the internal judgmental dialogue and felt a gentle welling of compassion. Truly, human beings are complex creatures; even one’s most intimate friends retain a mystery.

And strangely, aligning herself with the natural flow, like swimming with the current, had not negated the pain she had weathered. Instead, it had given pain its proper value in her life’s pattern. Past afflictions did not exclusively define her. They were not the sole cause of who she had become.

That they had been threads, yes, this is true, but influences too innumerable to calculate or even imagine had been simultaneously at play. Additionally, she’d observed how those who overlooked these vital factors had remained in a seemingly endless search for meaningful resolution.

And so, without resistance, Sylvi settled in.

It was getting dark and her cats were calling for dinner. Her small dog, tail wagging, followed her alongside as they made their way home to the movement of the river.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Do you think aging narrows your mind or expands it? In what ways? What hardships have defined your life? How have they helped you grow and develop?

Photo + ID: @melissagorga

Originally posted at: Melissa Gorga’s Blue Open Knit Fringe Midi Skirt Set