My second insight is associated with an idea I share with Oscar Wilde. There’s one thing about ageing that’s worse than all the other problems: the fact that we do not really grow old. Wilde and I know that the body – that physical entity that hosts and houses my mind and soul – does age and decay, but the dweller therein, the mental me, does not grow old at the same pace, or rather, it stays forever young. If the mind aged with the body, old age might be a mellow, recreational time for us, but this is often not the case. Living inside this fragile body, our minds and souls cling to their
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