Growing Old with Jane

She doesn’t know me.  I don’t really know her, but here I am growing old with her.  Jane Fonda appeared on the Today Show this morning buzzing about her new book, Being a Teen.  Of course, she looked gorgeous and young.  During the interview there was a reference to her last book about growing older called Prime Time.  So I looked it up on Amazon, being more interested in this part of life than the teen-aged years.

The reviews for Prime Time were good so I put it in my Amazon cart, but I haven’t bought it (yet).  I must tell you that I still have the Jane Fonda workout book--you know the one with her in her leotard and leggings.  It’s the huge coffee table version, too.  (No, I don’t have it on the coffee table any more.)  I also had at least one of the videos of her workout sessions.  It was a video, so you know it’s an old one.  And I did that video many times with Jane.

Like I said, Jane and I are together--mind and body.  Of course, my body in reality is not the body in my mind and it certainly isn’t a Jane body.  But it is relatively healthy.  For that I am extremely grateful. 

Recently, though, I have been reflecting and saying that I wish I had my old body back.  I’d take the one I had in my 40’s or even the one in my 50’s.  Something has happened in the last 7-8 years and it’s not pretty.  And it’s not Jane-like. 

I remember years ago my sister made this comment, “I yam what I yam” quoting none other than “Popeye.”  So every once in awhile when I get discouraged about not having the body of my youth, I think of what she said way back then and justify my present day body by saying that.  Now, I must tell you that this same sister still has her college days figure. 

Then I also hooked into the segment that the Today Show had on last week called, “Love Your Selfie.”  I love my body, I love my body, I love my body.  I love my body.  I heard if you say something often enough, then it’s true.  Oh yes, my body could be a lot worse. I am not obese.  I am tall and have skinny legs and a skinny behind.  I can hide that thick tummy a little.  So there.  I love my selfie. 

Who cares if Jane’s body looks the same as it did in that leotard--I guess it does--she didn’t have one on today.  She is a movie star for heaven’s sake.  She has to look good, right?  Therefore, how can she possibly understand the rest of us.

Well, although Jane looks fabulous, she addresses more than looks in that book of hers that I plan on buying.  The subtitle  is “Love, health, sex, fitness, friendship, spirit; Making the most of all of your life.”  Ok, Jane, I’m with you again.   There is more to getting older than the way I look.  I’m into refocusing on all those other things.

On Amazon, there is a letter from Jane in the Editorial Review of her book.  I'm sure she is just writing to me, but you can read it.  Evidently it is from an out of print or unavailable edition.  

In this letter she makes an interesting metaphor about growing older.  She explains how the familiar comparison of life is to that of an arch (I see the St. Louis Arch) starting with birth, then growing up as children; the top of the arch depicts us peaking as middle-aged adults, and then the down-hill part of the arch is the last years of our lives.  I think of that last leg of the arch as a fast slide, don’t you? 

However, Jane's metaphor was more appealing to me.  It was of an image of a staircase, continuing upward until the end.  I like that image;  I like that I don’t see the end of the staircase.  And I like that I don't see that I have peaked and now going down hill.  I know the end of the staircase exists--it's there but not right here, you know what I mean?  I was a late-bloomer growing up, so I like to think I am still blooming and the end of the staircase is a ways away.

I like this upwards image though; it presents the idea to me that we can still grow as we live--it's not over.  She calls it “an upward ascension until the end.”  I certainly don't feel like my life is over.  I'm as busy now as ever just not on one single job.  I like being busy.

And I don't mind the getting older thing.  Despite a few more aches and pains, not seeing or hearing quite as well, and taking a little longer to get up off the floor, I don't feel like I'm old.  I even think I don't look that old--until I look in the mirror.  Let me tell you, that's no Jane Fonda looking back at me.  But it's okay.  It's me and "I yam what I yam."

Now I do appreciate the fact that there are ways to make the most of my life past 60.  That’s where I think I can learn some from Jane's book.  Probably most of the things in her book are things that I already know, but reading and focusing on these things should help me regroup.

Ok.  I’m in, Jane.  I’m buying the book.  I gonna read that book.  I'm gonna do all of that good stuff and make the most of my life.  But right now, I gonna go to bed.  I'm tired.

Later, Jane.