It's obvious that "aging gracefully" way conflicting material possession to different inhabitants. To every it's "surrender to old age." To others ageing graciously is active with the flow, fetching the attitude, "You single survive so long, you are going to die anyway, so on stage still it makes you satisfied."
To me, ageing gracefully routine letting go, only property beingness come about. It's giving up goals, dreams, productivity, and treat with contempt. It's doing what your friends are doing. It's placidly waiting for annihilation.
For example, I'll expound how I think about Rhett Butler and Scarlet O'Hara may possibly have older gracefully, cultivated characters that they were.
Full text:
Picture Scarlett and Rhett in rocking chairs on the gallery of the McMansion they noninheritable after Tara change state to the floorboards. The war is over, and she's breathing on royalties from her top-grade merchandising book, "Gone With the Wind and Gentility: The Lost Art of Aging Gracefully."
Scarlett's known 16-inch waist has ballooned into what looks resembling the fanlike side of a barn. After all, would any gracefully senescent female aid weights, or even hook and touch her toes? Anyway, she's rocking distant in her chair, a fan in one hand, stirring the sweaty daylight air, and she's clutching a perfect julep in the opposite. She's heard that a small indefinite amount of drinks a day is right for older women, so she's enjoying her quota, and past many. "Aaah," she sighs, followed by a physiological reaction. "Aging gracefuly - that's flesh and blood."
Rhett Butler has as well aged graciously. He's corpulent as an apple say the middle, near admire handles on top of be keen on handles. He's bald as a billiard ball, and, he's sporting a long, light-colored "father time" hair. Bald old men ofttimes try to balance for a gleaming pate by burgeoning assemblage on their obverse. They have an idea that it makes them face little and more strong. Yuck.
Rhett is likewise enjoying a mint julep, and he's mistreatment his fan to drive away space off his whiskers that houses vestiges of closing year's pouched mammal potage and barbequed yellow-bellied gizzards. Typical gaga old geezer that he is, in his director he's motionless a stud.
During a semi-surge of the past of his testosterone, he takes a drink of his mint julep, burps, wipes his jaws on the arm of the excess of a musty southern uniform, and whispers to Scarlet, "You know, Miz Scarlet, you are not the unmitigated babe you nearly new to be."
Taking another sip of her perfect julep, tossing back her tangled brackish and pepper curls, and shifting to more discerningly sort out the avoirdupois weight that past was a small waist, Scarlet rocks with a bit more than resolve and responds, "Frankly my dear, I don't dispense a curst."
Rhett counters next to "Hey babe, that's my line!" to which Miz Scarlet testily responds, "Well, now it's hole in the ground. Get over and done with it."
Get the "aging gracefully" picture? You no long vigilance. You rightful let life ensue. You conscionable don't impart a damn. And you besides get unspeakable cranky.
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