“You look like you’re 20,” I said. “I’m the same age I’ve always been,” she replied.
We are fascinated by our bodies but of “The force that through the green fuse drives the flower” we are mostly incurious.
We live immersed in a terror of death. That needs to be accounted for when we examine our own individual attitudes toward end of life. Which, of course, is a complete oxymoron. There is no end of life. Bodies appear and disappear, is all.