Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes ...

Change is good. Change is good. Change is good. That’s the mantra I’ve created for myself as I do my best to follow the advice of famed rocker, David Bowie in his popular song, “Changes.” Every day I practice mindfulness as a way to hone my ability to “turn and face the strain.”

These days, I face the strain of approaching my sixth decade. Quite honestly, the last time I recall a life change hitting me with such unexpected force was during adolescence. It’s the kind of change that sneaks up on you while you sleep. It worms its way into your psyche and alters your physicality as you dream. It has its way with you before you realize what’s happening.

If my experience with yoga and meditation has taught me anything it’s taught me to bring “bare attention” to every moment possible as a way of living life to the fullest. This means noticing everything, not just the joyful, the exciting, the fulfilling and the satisfying. It means noticing feelings of vulnerability, loss, and fear that creep in with each new visible line on the face that stares back from my mirror. It means bringing unimpeded awareness to the gradual increase of creakiness in my joints and the impossibility of reading the warning label on the considered bottle of pain reliever (in spite of the magnification offered by my latest pair of reading glasses!) It means facing these challenges with equanimity of mind. No judging. No denying. No hiding.

This afternoon I was afforded an opportunity to practice equanimity in a humorous, if not baffling encounter with a stranger. I was enjoying a relaxing, summery lunch in an outdoor café with my daughter and her boyfriend when, out of the blue, an older, somewhat rumpled woman marched purposefully toward us, her dark eyes piercing our affectionate bond. She glared at me scornfully and blurted, “You’re old! You look nasty!” As quickly as she had appeared, she now disappeared into a shadowy squall of mumbling.

Stunned, we had to laugh. Yet, my daughter seemed concerned that I might take the woman’s comments to heart. “I think you’re beautiful,” she offered. Her expression of love and caring instantly short-circuited any tendency that I may have had to sink into harsh judging, of myself or of the disheveled old woman. I was able to bring bare attention to the moment and recognize myself as a reflection of both, my young daughter’s beauty and the old woman’s nastiness.

As I continue to transition into my sixth decade I hope to bring grace and compassion into each moment. I intend to embrace the natural shifts and changes I know I must face. I accept the impermanence of all things, including my physical body. I'm convinced, “Change is good. Change is good. Change is good.”