Last week I was at a Chamber of Commerce meeting, and after introductions to a woman who runs a local business, we exchanged business cards. She held mine at a distance, slowly moving it farther away, until finally she could read it.
For those of you over the age of 45, you know why she did this – you need to create that extra space to be able to read small print or put on your reading glasses. Her action made me think of My Shrinking Life.
My Shrinking Life (MSL) is not a bad thing or a good thing. It’s just a thing that happens.
For those of us lucky enough to live past age 45 or so, we start to experience MSL in different ways. There are activities that you give up, adjustments to make, decisions to let go. You can’t do what you used to be able to do. Through maturity, you chose to back off. If you don’t let the logical side of your brain take over and make reasoned decisions, you can head down the path of a major injury or taking on an endeavor you have no business participating in.
If you’ve ever watched the TV show “Survivor,” you know that they no longer have older people on. That, of course, is so they can market younger faces and bodies that appear more attractive on screen, but it also (my assumption) results from the first few seasons when they had older participants and they couldn’t compete on certain challenges. That’s the way it goes – you can’t run as fast, jump as high or lift a bunch of heavy logs to build a cabin.
One of the first signs of MSL is not being able to read written words up close. Years ago, when I wore contacts to improve my distance vision, the eye doctor said I was in good shape and probably wouldn’t need reading glasses until I was 45, when most people started to experience difficulties around age 40. That still didn’t prepare me for the change.
With a headache one night in my early 40s, I rummaged through the bedside drawer for a small container of Nuprin (the precursor to Motrin that was advertised by tennis great Jimmy Connors with the phrase, “Just Nupe it”). I tried to read how many capsules to take, and couldn’t. I pulled it closer and things got fuzzier. I thought something was seriously wrong with me. Then, for some odd reason, I extended my arm, and WHOA, the print became clear. “How odd,” I thought, gulping a couple down.
Other incidents confirmed the decline in eyesight. It didn’t bother me. I was what it was. It’s part of MSL.
MSL affects people in many ways. It gets harder to use an iPad or a smart phone, for example. At some point, MSL will mean you need to put the glasses on to read your laptop or desktop computer even with their bigger screens and if you increase the font size.
We all adjust in some way, shape or form because we have to. There is no choice. You can squint, use reading glasses, put objects under bright lights, hold them at arms’ length distance. All those techniques keep you functioning in a society that seems to expect the smallest possible evolution of a product is the way to go. People with minuscule fingers and the ability to manipulate tiny screens have a leg up.
My Shrinking Life opens the way to new relationships. We share the experience with others, sometimes commiserating. But more often it’s with a smile that this is who we are. Adjust and live.
For those of you over the age of 45, you know why she did this – you need to create that extra space to be able to read small print or put on your reading glasses. Her action made me think of My Shrinking Life.
My Shrinking Life (MSL) is not a bad thing or a good thing. It’s just a thing that happens.
For those of us lucky enough to live past age 45 or so, we start to experience MSL in different ways. There are activities that you give up, adjustments to make, decisions to let go. You can’t do what you used to be able to do. Through maturity, you chose to back off. If you don’t let the logical side of your brain take over and make reasoned decisions, you can head down the path of a major injury or taking on an endeavor you have no business participating in.
If you’ve ever watched the TV show “Survivor,” you know that they no longer have older people on. That, of course, is so they can market younger faces and bodies that appear more attractive on screen, but it also (my assumption) results from the first few seasons when they had older participants and they couldn’t compete on certain challenges. That’s the way it goes – you can’t run as fast, jump as high or lift a bunch of heavy logs to build a cabin.
One of the first signs of MSL is not being able to read written words up close. Years ago, when I wore contacts to improve my distance vision, the eye doctor said I was in good shape and probably wouldn’t need reading glasses until I was 45, when most people started to experience difficulties around age 40. That still didn’t prepare me for the change.
With a headache one night in my early 40s, I rummaged through the bedside drawer for a small container of Nuprin (the precursor to Motrin that was advertised by tennis great Jimmy Connors with the phrase, “Just Nupe it”). I tried to read how many capsules to take, and couldn’t. I pulled it closer and things got fuzzier. I thought something was seriously wrong with me. Then, for some odd reason, I extended my arm, and WHOA, the print became clear. “How odd,” I thought, gulping a couple down.
Other incidents confirmed the decline in eyesight. It didn’t bother me. I was what it was. It’s part of MSL.
MSL affects people in many ways. It gets harder to use an iPad or a smart phone, for example. At some point, MSL will mean you need to put the glasses on to read your laptop or desktop computer even with their bigger screens and if you increase the font size.
We all adjust in some way, shape or form because we have to. There is no choice. You can squint, use reading glasses, put objects under bright lights, hold them at arms’ length distance. All those techniques keep you functioning in a society that seems to expect the smallest possible evolution of a product is the way to go. People with minuscule fingers and the ability to manipulate tiny screens have a leg up.
My Shrinking Life opens the way to new relationships. We share the experience with others, sometimes commiserating. But more often it’s with a smile that this is who we are. Adjust and live.