Walking Downhill

First, it's the dentist telling me about bone loss and my receding gums that won't grow back, but how he can slow the march toward toothlessness.

A few days later it's the dermatologist: You know all that skin damage from sunburns at the beach when I was a kid? Well, it's irreversible, but with these special treatments, he can slow the progression to skin cancer.

Still later it's the chiropractor: a few "issues" with my back and neck. Can't restore it to the way it was in my thirties, but he can try to keep me upright for a few more years.

And once again, I get it: At 58, bodywise I'm on the downward side of the mountain. True, base camp is still far off, but things are definitely different here. Now it's not about scaling new heights but slowing the decline.

I'm going to take the path down with the same deliberateness, muscle, and sense of adventure I had on the way up. Sure, I'll watch my step, and think and pray about things a bit. But mostly I'll savor where I've been, consolidate what I've learned, maybe pass some of it along, and enjoy all the things only this side of the mountain can teach me.

So if I go along with the doctors' idea of slowing down the descent, it's only because it's all much too good to miss.