*914 - seventy years

The loveliest little lady at a movement improvisation class today (looks sixty, moves like she's thirty, is actually seventy) told me after class: Look in the mirror. Enjoy your gorgeous young body. Be happy. Don't forget your youth. She moved beautifully and lightly and most mesmerizingly, and you could tell from her beautiful arches and long limbs that she was made to dance.

And it suddenly struck me that I do, indeed, take this body for granted. As much as I dislike it at times, it's lithe, it's not too creaky, it moves, it dances. When everything runs smoothly, you don't take any notice; when you do take notice, it's too late to treasure what has already passed.

An oddly enlightening moment.