Alongside the driveway to the house I lived was a three-foot brick wall. throughout my teens, twenties, and thirties I would run and jump over the wall rather than follow the walkway that led to the driveway.

One day, in my forties, as usual, I ran toward the wall but was not able to jump high enough, consequently, I stumbled over the wall and fell flat on my face. Not wanting to admit I was limited by age, I searched for a reason not to accept that there are physical limitations when you reach your forties and they are undeniable.

Concluding my thought was a revelation that aging is a trade-off process. My thinking is this: There is not in existence nor should there be a measured formula to slow the pathological processes of time. By which the detriments are most severe to one’s body in comparison to the curative effect to one’s mind. As the latter benefits one in the acquisition of wisdom, the other is inherent to the tragic adverse of one’s physical decline.

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