09/29/2026
In nine days, I will be 52. There is a timeline. There is a number. But what does it really tell me?
My mother missed the timeline for having children when she was young, and so my brother and I were miraculously born when she was in her late forties. I missed the timeline for puberty too; I was late. Marriage came with another timeline, and I missed the early twenties. I was late again.
Then came yoga. I started when I was 34. Watching young instructors move seamlessly through poses in their twenties and thirties, I would sometimes think, “By the time I get to this, I will be too old.” I had already decided there was a timeline for my body before I had even given myself the time to learn.
I was also late to having a professional life that I truly cared about. I made my first few dollars less than $100 at 38.
Looking back, I see how much of life is organized around timelines: when we should study, work, marry, earn, save, choose a career, or even start Yoga which many people think that they too old to begin.
Age can play tricks on us. We spend so much of our lives wondering whether we are early or late, ahead or behind, that somewhere along the way we miss the time itself. I don’t want 52 to tell me what I can do, how I should look, or in any way that is limiting.
I recently was able to get into Marichyasana F with more ease. I am learning Yoga again privately at my pace and to what works for my lifestyle. Last year I thought I was too old to get to these poses.
So as practice continues I am also practicing constantly reminding myself I am not behind. I am not ahead. I am still learning to live, practice, and discover life at my own pace.
While life does bring a timeline for all of us but there is no deadline for becoming who we are.
And perhaps that is the paradox: the clock keeps telling me how much time has passed, while life keeps reminding me I am still learning to fly!
