Are we not alternately fascinated with, resigned to, fixated on and horrified by the process of aging? The reason for all of this turbulence is that we are in thrall to our bodies, utterly identified with them. But here’s the thing: We are not our bodies. We have bodies but only in the sense that we have cars, houses, clothes or any other material thing. In fact, the materiality of the body is what makes it difficult to change.
My body has an age measured in years. It has logged 68 of these. But the “I” that I am has no age. “I” is as old as God.