Don’t tell me

I just turned one of those bold, round numbers that invites metaphysical thoughts about Time . Waking up at forty, I find myself in a body that feels healthy. From here, the past doesn’t look effortless, waking at six, workouts, repetitions, injuries, recoveries. But it does feel contingent. Perhaps a future version of me wished it so. Maybe a wish is not something that happens in the future, but…