“It’s old! Throw it away.”
I hear it all the time and I bet you do too.
More often than not in our culture of abundance the concept and reality of something being old is equal to uselessness. If something is outdated, no longer in daily use or no longer bringing us joy then we find room for it in the attic, basement or garage, Goodwill, Salvation Army, or trash. We get it out of sight. It’s the feng-shui thing to do: “only keep what really makes you happy”.
We “declutter” to get rid of the old and make room for the new. And we must be doing a pretty good job of it as the decluttering industry is a multi-million dollar one!
Is it any surprise, then, that we, in our culture, look upon old age as something that needs to be fixed? The constant focus in advertising and the media is on youth and how to look younger, feel younger, and be younger, and never admit to being old. In fact we take it as a compliment, and feel proud, when someone says, “wow, you don’t look that old!” Old is not okay.
Parker Palmer in his book On the Brink of Everything writes about “collaborating with aging”. This concept implies responding to age in such a way that it is taken as a serious consideration and adjustments are made accordingly. I’m sure I’ve never done this. Instead I have taken age for granted with very little, if any, consideration. I mean, I guess I thought old age happened to everyone else but didn’t really think it would happen to me!
But now…today, I feel my age. In fact, most of the time these days, I feel my age. That might sound negative, but in fact, it’s just the truth and some of feeling my age is humorous, not a joke, but humorous, and at the very least, interesting. And feeling it causes me to make adjustments for it.
Parker says it for me:
“I don’t want to fight the gravity of aging. It’s Nature’s way. I want to collaborate with it as best I can, in hopes of going down with something like the grace of the setting sun. For all the wrinkles and worry lines, it’s a lovely thing simply to be one of those who’s lived long enough to say, ‘I’m getting old.'”
One very Vibrant Old Friend of mine, who is just a few years older than me, has been exhibiting typical signs of old-age- forgetfulness, repeating herself more often and even getting somewhat disoriented if a different route is taken on the way home from the mall, according to the reports of her only daughter. These changes are upsetting to the daughter who has always found pride in her mom’s sharp memory and intellect. Concerned about it, she decided to talk to her two brothers in an attempt to chart out a plan to address these behaviors. (Something needed fixing!) After presenting her perspective and having a short discussion between them, one brother became annoyed with what he perceived to be over-concern, and said, “Oh, please! Can’t we just let her be old?”
This was not the response the daughter had thought she would get. It surprised her and jarred her thinking. “Yes” she thought, “we can let her be old. I just didn’t fully realize that she is!”
That question, “Can’t we just let her be old?” suddenly altered the way she viewed the changes in her mom. Processing things a bit more slowly than ever before, reiterating stories and details of life, and asking the same question over again were symptoms of old-age that are common and understandable. She just hadn’t realized they applied to her mom. Old age was something that happened to other peoples’ moms!
Her mom was still herself, though. She still made her happy and brought joy to her family! She was still sweet and caring, funny and smart. She was interested in people and events and the news of the day. She had opinions and a perspective that was helpful and reassuring. She was still loved and valued…just a little slower, a little more forgetful and definitely required more patience from her listeners!
Maybe asking her mom, “What’s it like being old, Mom?” would have created a collaboration with her and led to a more positive adjustment to her aging. But who ever asks that question? I’m sure I never asked it of my mom or grandma, or anyone else for that matter. I assumed I knew it was merely the opposite of young, or it was equal to being used up, worn out or done. And besides, it always seems a bit rude to insinuate that someone is “old”…(it’s not a four-letter word, but close!)
Old age is the accumulation of many years, each one full of life experiences, ordinary routine as well as extraordinary adventures. Maybe it’s that mountain of accumulation that fills our memory banks so full that it takes more time to remember! At least that’s my positive spin on forgetfulness!
But one of the surprises of old age is the fact that I can now see the timeline of my life from the start to almost the finish (at least the finish is in closer view and feels more like a probability). Old age is a perspective, a vantage point.
Parker says,
“…the view from the brink is striking, a full panorama of my life, and a bracing breeze awakens me to new ways of understanding my own past, present, and future…I see why I needed the tedium and the inspiration, the anger and the love, the anguish and the joy. I see how it all belongs…”
Recently a long time beloved friend emailed me and said she had been going through old high school annuals and ended up feeling regretful over some of the things she remembered. She wished she had been kinder and less judgmental of some of her classmates. She felt sad about that.
After listening to her, I was able to offer my perspective: “All of those life experiences, all along the way, have contributed to the wonderful person you are today. You wouldn’t be you if anything had been different.”
I knew her well back in our high school days and I know her well now, in old age. I wouldn’t change anything about her. She has always had an open heart and vibrant Spirit, learned from life along the way, and grown.
Looking back and feeling regret at this Gran Finale stage of life, denies the whole picture, denies the panoramic view with the highs and lows and nuances of a fully human timeline.
In the film Tea for the Dames, the four lovely Vibrant Old English Dames were asked what advice they, at this stage in life, would give to their young selves. Curiously, Judy Dench replied with a bit of sadness that she would tell herself not to fall in love so often, while Maggie Smith, thought intensely and replied something like, “I don’t think I would give any because it might change who I am and where I am today” (my translation).
I’m tempted, with my long time school friend and others who have expressed these same feelings, to look back and wish I could change some things, and give a different response here and there, and make different choices. But when I indulge in this regretful exercise, I forfeit the joy from the journey to my old age.
Old age is a well used life. Making appropriate adjustments to aging is the adventure of old age. My body is changing and becoming more frail and needs consideration. My Spirit is changing too, becoming more real and sure. The Spirit of old age comes from the accumulation of all life’s experiences. I have a view point “from the brink” to share and encouragement from having made it through all these accumulated years to give others.
I say “let me be old”. Collaborate with me.
What do you say?
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