When I look back over the last two years, I get the impression of a constant battle.
Nothing to do with our move to Berlin: that was my idea, my wish - (even a prediction: as a teenager I wrote into my diary "Berlin is the town I want to grow old in.") It was the right move.
No, I fight on another field. And though there are 'host of heaven' with me - I am part of the Baby Boomer Generation - it is a lonely fight. The inevitable fight: growing old.
At first I did the obvious: I closed my eyes.
"Not me!" I thought, seeing that I do very well in comparison. (Comparison is a vice in the books of the Wise!). And a lot of people, among them beautiful men, say gently: "But you don't look old!" Thank you.
But: It's Lombard Street to a China Orange. A look on my birth certificate...
What is worse than a number: to go through the world with closed eyes is really stressful.
I never photoshopped or botoxed or had a nip and tug, never, and I never will. But I do quite a lot to keep my
I will talk about that in posts following this. (Not Elvis, but half of the 'blog members' have left the building by now :-)
But first I will do the most important thing: accept and admit it: Ageing.
Of course I do it in the wayward Taoists way: by embracing the enemy. Trying to foresee the blows and thus avoid them as good as I can.
All that in order to thrive, not just survive - balanced in the very midst of events.
Let softness be my motto.