First things first: Thank you all for commenting on my last post. It's wonderful to see you all come out of the woodwork! The winner of Amy Chaplin's At Home in the Whole Food Kitchen: Celebrating the Art of Eating Well is "eb" (Elisabeth Bentz). Congratulations! Please send your mailing address to me at gluttonforlife at gmail dot com. I can't wait for you to start cooking from this beautiful book!

With the change of season, my thoughts inevitably turn to death and dying. What? you cry. How maudlin! And I can't deny that it's with a slightly melancholy turn of mind that I watch the garden wither and decay, for this is such an evocative reminder of the passage of time. Oh, spring will come again—the rhubarb will poke its gnarled pinkness up from the cold ground and the lilacs will bloom in a purple haze—but my own spring's awakening happened long ago and my winter years are soon upon me. Reading this piece by the wonderfully wise Dani Shapiro, I was comforted to know that I am not alone in wanting to acknowledge the inevitable, and to let that open me up to appreciating the moment even more. It's so important to embrace all of life's experiences. If we bury our heads in the sand and allow ourselves to by ruled by fear, who knows what we might miss out on?

Just a week before, I had read this article in the New York Times (at least check out the hilarious photos) and it really brought home to me, more than ever, how essential the mind is in helping us remain vital. The gist of it is that if you think younger and act younger, your body will respond by actually feeling—and behaving—like your younger self. You might not need your reading glasses! Your arthritis could ease up considerably. I immediately put on Elvis Costello's Welcome to the Working Week (it always takes me right back to 1981) and danced around the living room like a maniac.

How do we grow and mature and become wise without letting go of some of youth's most valuable treasures? Here are the youthful qualities I am happy to leave behind: Arrogance. Indifference. Ignorance. Innocence. And these are the ones I'd like to retain: Optimism. Energy. Lust.

In truth, I find the idea of "eternal youth" somewhat repellent. I don't want to live forever. But I want to live fully and with purpose. With my eyes, heart and mind open wide. "There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age," said Sophia Loren, a woman not unfamiliar with the surgeon's knife. Hey, we each decide how best to chart our progress.

Recently, I had the honor of spending a day with the amazing photographer Mark Hanauer who shot many beautiful portraits of me. I have posted some on my Facebook page, mostly of me looking joyful and rather radiant, if I do say so myself. But he also took this one, in which you can plainly see the shadow of the old woman I will become. It made me flinch. I joked that I could be cast in the next Ingmar Bergman film. And I certainly never thought I would share it with the world. But here it is, here I am, feeling very much alive, full of curiosity and optimism—despite (or perhaps because of) being keenly aware of the passage of time. 

I would love to know your thoughts on this journey, and how you feel about seeing the signs of aging on your face. xo