I think I'm my current age in dreams--and I love those younger men dreams!

Your dithering about among tasks may be new to you; but, it pretty much describes my life! If I think of something that needs to be done, I need to do it before I forget it altogether. My husband thinks this is nuts. He has been a life-long list maker. He carries bits of paper and a writing implement with him everywhere! Life-long, when I make a written list, I have usually gone off without it. Mental lists help me - especially if I make a mental note such as, "When I see Suzy, I have 3 things we must discuss." Knowing how many items are on my list helps me recall the items.

As to age: I've been given to understand that most of us dream that we are younger, as we age. It is mostly true for me. I think I stopped aging, in my dreams, at about age 42. Only on rare occasion do I dream that I am old (which, at age 80, I absolutely am!)

I've recently noticed a patch of dry, hard skin above my left knee. My legs have been crepe-y for several years, now, and my neck? It's been crepe-y since I was 30. Of course, the neck is worse, now.

I'm a 74 year old widow. I take Klonopin every evening for anxiety and insomnia so my dreams are very vivid, and once in a great while, memorable.

In my waking life I have short light blonde hair. In my dream life I become my original self with dark brown hair. I'm always young, even if my grandchildren are in the dream.

My dreams generally fall into two categories: I'm moving into a new house (a fresh start?) or I'm having a first date with a young guy (wishful thinking?).

When I remember a dream, I'm just grateful I'm getting some REM sleep!

I have definitely noticed the slowing down and I am ten years younger than you are. Over the past two years, I have noticed this slowing down. Also the very strange thing of when I move my arm a certain way, all these wrinkles appear on it.
Every year since I turned fifty, I have noticed at least one aging change in my features. I look on these with interest, really. At this point, my jowls are dropping. I play around with the idea of doing that minor face lift and I might. But I also feel a bit embarrassed that I would consider this. I mean, how vain! On the other hand, we live in such an ageist society and being widowed, I am not ready to move into the shadows. The quandary is that mentally and emotionally I am ageless (until I start to lose my mind, I suppose, God forbid). And yet, it is my physical appearance to which most people out there respond.
As for wandering distraction, yes old age, and studies have certain confirmed this, but also our internet which has one thing after another that I greedily want to read and know about.

Oh yes, it's a little like going to Google for one thing and ending up with something completely different through following those interesting looking links. My day happens just like yours. It may be part of getting older but I wonder if it isn't more about freedom: to get up late or early, to dress or not, to shop or not, to read or not, to blog or not. All the "free" choices we have as retirees because our days are no longer circumscribed by deadlines, requirements, bosses! Lovely.

As to dreaming, I'm conscious of myself as being in the dream but I have no idea who/what/how I look. Odd, never occurred to me, so now I'll see if I can pay attention (that's an oxymoron, in so many ways).

Ooops typo above... really meant--
Thank you for the article on 'slow'! That and the comments that followed have reassured me that I'm NOT going completely dotty.

Miki Davis

Somehow I seldom remember my dreams - so hard to answer that question.

I have had the "distraction" problem for years. It might be worse now - hard to really tell. I often get distracted by starting to do something on the pc, seeing something interesting to read, and even a few seconds later totally forgetting what I was originally planning to do.

I'm very much "I better do it right now or I will forget type person".

Lists don't seem to help even on the phone as I forget I made one so forget to consult it. Or I only remember as I'm going out the door of the store.

I used to be a jogger. Daily 1-hour "runs" were normal for years. An illness caused balance issues that necessated the use of a walker, a cane, and, thankfully, are no longer required, but during the early daysof the illness, I dreamed often I was again running. Nurses said that was often the case when one cannot walk. Do our brains stimulate us to keep on keepin' on or just give us a few moments of happiness? Since I've been walking without assistive devices, I've not had any running dreams. Lots more walking,though. Thanks for the info. about walking helping to create brain cells.

P.S. I read a wonderful IMO article this morning written by Francis Wilkinson for Bloomberg about the Republican Party. That article and the New York Times op-ed piece by "annonymous" give me hope that Ship USA may get back on course.

Cleaning house has always resulted in remembering something else that I need to do. Particularly vacuuming results in a going through a what do I need to do.
Who needs to concentrate while vacuuming or cleaning up the kitchen? My mind wanders and solves problems and has often saved me from having a problem i.e. paying a bill that is due that day, etc.
I look at it as a positive. I just come back to what I was doing. It's great when you have many hats to wear.

I goofed and used the wrong word, thus giving an erroneous notion. Brain cells can't regenerate; other already-existing cells in the brain can be repurposed when needed, according to E.Kandel, who states brain cells once gone, stay gone.

The hormone believed to be attached to this is Osteocalcin, which is released by bones, thus the usefulness in walking for healthy bones and brain health.

Love Joyce's dream! Mostly I don't remember my dreams but when I do I am the observer, and sometimes an actor (I seem to search for my car lost in huge parking garages)
but I do not see myself. I seem to have no age (or body really) in a dream.

I'm glad to hear about walking causing new brain cells to grow, however that happens. Walking is my favorite exercise.

I am always middle age in my dreams and am with strange people. I am aware that I am walking normally and am amazed at my recovery. I no longer shuffle while hanging on to the walker. I am often in a strange city.

I rarely dream of people I know, but am at a meeting or a party with people I have just met and I don't really know them and I am feeling left out. The good dreams are when a strange man is interested in me and I am aware of his attention. I am usually surprised that he has chosen me. (Is the thirst for romance ever truly dead?)

Then there are dreams where I am at a buffet with all of my favorite foods and something always happens to prevent me from getting any food. I think those are obviously caused by hunger pangs.

Slower, oh yes, and the things other than chores that call to me I don't really consider distractions, they are my real life..........a book, something in nature, my pets, an idea, and then, I'm always wanting to get to the studio. Right now my sink's full of dishes, etc, but yesterday I was in the studio a lot, alone, and with a drawing group, and I'm happy.

Dreams......age doesn't show up too much, but I am always limber, don't fly as much as before, don't dream quite as much as before. My dreams are really important to me. Recently, I had what I can only call a visitation from my brother who was killed in Viet Nam.
It gave me such a feeling of love, confidence, strength that has stayed with me.

So many interesting comments from today’s TGB gathering! They remind me that we are all different, yet aging gives us so much in common. I’m envious of some of the dreams, especially Marilyn’s adventure dreams and Joyce’s encounter with Prince Harry. When I first retired, I often dreamed of flying and would wake up absolutely convinced that I could actually fly, but that era didn’t last long.

My dreams now, if I manage to catch them before they disappear, are often about being in a strange house. It’s always a large, illogically planned, rambling house which is not safe. It’s full of junk and other obstacles. The windows won’t close and the doors won’t lock, or there are so many that we somehow forget to lock them. There is always a “we” whom I can’t identify but I know I am responsible for them, so neglecting to lock doors is very frightening. I have no idea how to interpret these dreams, but I’m always vastly relieved to awaken in my own very logical and safe home.

Like many of you, I’m plagued by chronic distractions. It’s quite true that these distractions make life much more complicated than it should be. For now, anyway, I am blaming these distractions for demented incidents like getting appointments wrong or neglecting to pay an important bill. I’m pretty sure that, as I have done many times as the vagaries of old age crept up on me, I can manage to re-set my brain to better avoid the distractions and focus on what is necessary and real.

Susan R.’s issue with butt padding also resonated with me. It is so frustrating to have grown such a fat butt as I aged, only to have it sag and be of little use as something to sit on.

I just call it (older) adult-onset ADD and go on with my life. I actually welcome the distractions from a tedious task. (Grateful not to have many deadlines these days!)

As for dreams, I feel that I am younger than my 67 years because my body has no physical limitations (though I haven't dreamed about flying in quite a while). For some reason I have been semi or fully naked in my dreams many times over the years. Frustrated nudist, perhaps? Dreams are a fascinating subject - I really enjoy reading everyone's comments!

I was just on my way to throw the washing in and thought, maybe I'll just check ,my e-mail, so here I sit, reading and typing my input. I will relay an incident that does not have to do with a dream of mine, but my experience with my husband's death. I was sitting with him, it had been a long hard physically debilitating road for him, we knew the time was imminent. As he took his last breath, I immediately saw in my mind, he jumped up from the bed, he had on his catchers mitt and shorts and a tee shirt and ran off to play ball. He was 77, but in that flash, he was back to his young, healthy self, free to run and play. just like when we were teenagers. I remember thinking, I hope that is what happens when we pass, we regain our lost capabilities . It gave me a moment of happiness at a sad time.