The whole idea of ‘vim and vigor’ used to amuse me. It seemed old fashioned, the kind of remark that my grandma would make. Of course that was back when I had it. Now that I’m older than my grandmother, it’s not so funny.
The dictionary says it means strength and enthusiasm, qualities which are becoming more elusive with each passing day. I never thought that ‘vim’ was an actual English word. I learn now that it is; derived from the Latin for strength. It doesn’t matter because, for me, ‘vim’ is a quality in short supply.
Not me!
These days I find I’m spending half the day finding the ‘vim and vigor’ to get our of bed. I don’t feel old exactly- although I couldn’t tell what that might mean. I can find the energy to get up and at ’em eventually and when I do I feel just as capable of taking on the day as ever. It’s just that the sense of urgency is gone. Getting up is driven more by a full bladder than eagerness to take on the day.
I have plans, hopes and dreams just like always. What is misssing these days is the urgency. Even more I have the feeling that I’ll be much more energetic if I lie here just a few minutes more. Certainly the body is less willing these days. What troubles me more is the realization that so is my mind.
C’est la vie.
I may be in denial about getting old but still I find myself drawn to observe senior citizens when I’m out and about. I study people with walkers and canes, judging them and finding them wanting. To me their disabilities are mental. They refused to keep up their physical strength and agility. And if they have no pride about being able to walk upright I figure they probably wear diapers too. If you can’t be bothered to stay mobile, why bother with your bowels?
I’m still convinced that succumbing to old age is more a mental process than a physical one. I exercise with a trainer twice a week to fend off the relentless deterioration from old age. I might tolerate a walker as a short term necessity but I refuse to accept it as a life sentence. Mental focus and will are my weapons in the war I am certain to lose in the end. Still I have my pride.
But as I lie in bed persuading myself that just 10 more minutes won’t keep me from my commitments, I think I see the problem. It’s all in my head. I’ve accepted the inevitable decline of my physical strength and agility as reality. To fight the physical decline of aging I count on my mind to stay strong – to exercise ‘vim and vigor’ if you will to keep me on track in staying strong. It’s all in my head but then I ask. What am I doing to keep my mind on target and sharp? I don’t have an answer.
Not only do I not have a plan, I don’t have any benchmarks to hold myself to. It’s all in my head.
