Yeah I *might* be getting some wrinkles.

I got the idea in my head that I should try to get in touch with my toes again. Flexibility is not one of my strengths, particularly when it comes to my hamstrings, but every so often I go through a phase of “hey, wouldn’t it be nice if I could touch my toe-OHMYGOD THIS SUCKS!”

I’m in one of those phases right now.

So there I was, hanging upside down with my fingertips dangling somewhere in the neighborhood of my lower shins, on fire from ankle to ass, and contemplating my navel. Curled up and upside down is just about the most unflattering angle from which to view your own stomach. Considering all the running that I’ve been doing lately I was actually feeling pretty good about my figure. Was. Until I caught sight of my wrinkled, flappy stomach dangling down like a deflated football.

“God,” I thought, “I’m getting old.”

From most angles I don’t notice my age- or, at least, I’m not bothered by it too much. I’m beginning to notice wrinkles. I’m beginning to see freckles and moles that I didn’t used to have. I notice that my teeth are written down and that my toes are starting to curl up into weird shapes, but mostly I’m able to dismiss these as normal wear and tear. Staring at my upside down stomach was like starting into my future: a future in which the body that I wear will be so completely different from the one I wear now that it might as well be a stranger.

This got me to thinking about my past. I mean, there was a time when the person who stared back at me from the mirror was a child, but try as I might I can’t remember myself like that. It is always the adult me looking into my memories, and since I’m both subject and observer in my memories I struggle to keep the two selves separate. Usually the adult me wins. Childhood memories gradually warp from a childhood experience to a grown up experience of childhood.

I was a completely different person then, and yet I am the same person now. What a contradiction! When did I become remade? How? And how much of my younger self is left? Is there a single cell in my body now that has been with me since the beginning or am I am endless fountain of regenerating parts slowly devolving into a future self with no tie to the past except for unreliable memory?

Heady stuff. Who knew that touching your toes could make you so philosophical?


~ by Gwydhar Gebien on July 29, 2015.

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