Gazing down at my hands my age is revealed. No longer do my hands look young. Although long they are thin and prone to wrinkles, ridges and age spots. I can hide my sagging body from the world, but not my face and my hands. The hands are a dead giveaway as to a person’s age.
I look with an inquisitive nature. How did my hands get this old? I don’t feel this old and yet my hands tell me something different. I have a slight bit of arthritis in my hands. I know this will only get worse with time. I wonder if someday I will not be able to use my hands. I hope not because they have served me well. I cook, clean, create, hold, hug and reach out with these hands. I have prayed with these hands. They are the markers of my life. So I have decided to accept the wrinkles, sags and aging spots, to be kind to them every day and appreciate the many things they can do.
The palms of my hands reveal the lines of my life. My life line indicates good health. My heart line reveals that I am satisfied with my love life and my head line indicates that I am practical, intelligent and look at many possibilities before taking action.
My index finger represents my ego and my thumb is my higher power. Every day I take a moment to bend my index finger and place my thumb on top reminding myself to bow my ego to something bigger than my earthly self.
Every day I exercise my hands. Not to remove the aging, but to take care of them because in life a limber outstretched helping hand is all that is needed to live a full life, keep the heart loving and to stay open to all the possibilities of life. Love your hands. That’s proactive aging.