Aging isn't the enemy; it's the assignment

What spiritual traditions teach us about death, and why Western wellness can’t stop running from it

Over the past few years, I’ve noticed a growing obsession around me - with “anti-aging” this, “rejuvenation” that, and wellness rituals designed to keep us looking and feeling forever young. From supplements promising to rewind the clock, to facials and fitness regimens sold as the secret to eternal vitality, it feels like the whole wellness world is fixated on one thing: avoiding aging at all costs.

I’m all for people doing what they want with their bodies, but I’ve been thinking deeply about how this obsession connects to our spiritual paths.

After countless conversations and personal reflections, I’ve realized: none of this is truly about skincare, beauty, or wellness. It's about death. Death terrifies the late-stage capitalist system we live in because the moment we accept it - or stop chasing eternal youth - its money machine grinds to a halt.

The multi-billion dollar wellness industry doesn’t want your peace with aging. It wants you chasing a curated, youthful version of yourself - productive, polished, and just anxious enough to buy the next “miracle.”

But in so many of our own ancestral traditions, aging isn’t failure. It’s initiation. It’s sacred. It’s a sacred process of becoming. It’s the whole damn point.

In Hinduism, the later stages of life are when you renounce material attachments and move closer to liberation (moksha). In Buddhism, death is a transition - not a failure to live. Indigenous cultures around the world hold elders as knowledge keepers, storyholders, and guides. Even in Taoism and Zen, impermanence isn’t just accepted - it’s celebrated as the true nature of all things.

But in the West - death is something to be outrun. Delayed. Denied. Youth is sold as power. Aging is seen as loss. And the wellness industry has made billions selling us the illusion that immortality is just one more purchase away.

Take a step back, and it’s easy to see: much of what gets branded as "wellness" is actually a deep fear of death in disguise.

Biohacking that promises to reverse your age. Juice cleanses that "detox" your body of its humanness. Skincare routines that punish your wrinkles into disappearing. Even spiritual bypassing shows up here: "high vibes only," "ageless beauty," and other mantras that ignore pain, grief, and impermanence entirely.

And the irony is that we do all of this while meditating on "letting go."

The Fear Behind the Glow

Aging brings up a lot of uncomfortable things:

• Fear of fading from desire, from view, from respect

• Fear of losing status, place, and power

• Fear of irrelevance in a culture obsessed with youth

And especially for women - especially for women of color - the pressure is brutal.

We’re expected to be wise and radiant. But also youthful and low-maintenance. We’re asked to age gracefully, but invisibly. And we’re praised when we "don't look our age" - as if aging is something to be ashamed of.

But what if we flipped the script?

What if we treated aging as a spiritual rite of passage, not a marketing problem to solve? What if wellness didn’t mean chasing glow, but building depth?

What if we:

• Honored the wrinkles and softness as signs of a life well-lived?

• Let go of the need to stay visible in rooms that were never meant for our longevity?

• Sat at the feet of elders. Listened more. Fought less.

• Stopped outsourcing our self-worth to creams, brands, and algorithms?

Aging is not a failure of wellness.

It is the ultimate wellness practice of surrender. Of remembering what matters. Of letting go of what doesn’t. It’s the long arc of wisdom, seeded through seasons of change.

So next time you see an ad for reversing your age, ask yourself:

Am I afraid of aging? Or am I afraid of being forgotten?