Up the hill
Of aching feet
This morning’s humid air was heavier than I am, bearing down relentlessly despite my determination to finish walking through the neighborhood.
I do not consider the above to be one of my better poems. Which is just as well, given the circumstances. Nonetheless, it is the full truth about this morning’s usually cheery walk filled with happy bird-song.
Slogging. My word for the day. According to Merriam Webster it means “To plod (one’s way) perseveringly especially against difficulty.”
So here’s the irony of aging, which I put in the ‘difficulty’ box: The smarter we get, the slower we go.
That’s it in a nutshell. The great conundrum of senior wisdom based on experience, now trapped in aging bodies. Which, when I’m honest, can also be encouraging. Not the slow part, but the smarter part.
In other words, I like to believe my life experience (good, bad, ugly, disgusting, heavenly) has taught me more than I ever learned in school, at home, or even in the church. This is true whether I’m able to remember and articulate it, or not.
For now, I’m sticking close to home which has its own slogging work to do!
Here’s hoping you’re still in one piece and thriving at the end of this week.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 9 July 2021
Photo found at mentalfloss.com