Shrinking

"Your playing small doesn't serve the world.  There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.  We are all meant to shine, as children do." - Marianne Williamson

I had my annual check-up this week, an event which ends with being weighed and measured.  I've put a few pounds on since Jacob moved out of the house.  That came as no surprise and sooner or later, I will pull myself together and get my eating habits back under control.  Normally, getting weighed is the  most traumatic part of the weighing and measuring process, but not this year.  The worst part was being measured.  I've never been a particularly tall person but I did reach 5 feet, 2 and 3/4 inches.  With the four inch heels I wore in younger days, most people didn't realize that I am short.  Chemo was hard on my bones and I lost 3/4 of an inch in the months of my treatment.  At least I still had the 5'2" part, but not anymore.  This past year has deducted another 1/2 inch so I'm coming in now at just 5 feet, 1 and 1/2 inches.  That would explain why my pants are too long even though I buy them in the petite department and I can't reach anything in the kitchen cupboards.

My shoes are all flat these days.  My view is an ant's eye view and it is evident to everyone that I'm short - very short.  I don't so much care anymore what others see but I don't like shrinking.  It feels like a metaphor for my life.  I'm aging out of work, aging out of mothering, aging out of new adventures.  My body is shrinking and my world is shrinking. The adventures I yearned to have in my younger days, interest me no more.  I longed for exotic travel.  Now, I don't long to even leave Canadian airspace.  I used to love walking around downtown, absorbing the energy of the city.  Now I only go downtown if I have to.  I can barely stand the chaos and the noise.  It is unlikely I will ever again go para-sailing or zip-lining.  There won't be any more 60k walks or rain forest hikes or ocean kayaking, no dancing the night away.

There is not an inch of me that doesn't hurt these days and when I told my doctor that, he smiled and said, "Aging really sucks".  I keep reminding myself that it is better than the alternative.