||A Life Lived Backwards
||Journal 26 December 2017
||It was a beautiful summer's day on Whale Beach north of Sydney. I was in the dressing shed after having just emerged from the surf. I looked at myself in the mirror and horror of horrors I saw my first facial wrinkle. It was then that I realised the aging process had begun. I was 25 years old. For the next 51 years, I had a ringside seat for my aging process. At first it was landmarks like hair loss, thickening of the waist, my first grey hair. Later came teeth loss, the beginnings of arthritis, increasing presbyopia and the beginnings of short-term memory loss. Staying fit required more effort than before. Recovery after exertion (or a party) took longer. Erectile dysfunction began. Mid-life crisis came and went. Awareness of my own mortality slowly dawned. Instead of the sky being the limit, I was now looking downhill into my own grave. A terrible awareness of time and talents wasted seeped through me. I was sinking into the quicksand of aging Finally, I came to a point where I realised no matter how hard I tried, there was no longer any possibility of restoring my functioning to that of my halcyon days. I had finally arrived at old-age. I was now a full member of the old farts club.