Pat Taub
While I have my share of aging complaints: arthritis, a jaw line that is no longer firm–ditto for my major body parts, sleep problems, and bouts of loneliness, I can find plenty to cheer about in the becoming-an-old-lady department.
For starters, I’m more confident. I no longer agonize about my choices.
I don’t own the guilt of my younger self, obsessing about what others think of me.
(This doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally ruminate over a choice I’ve made, but my worry time is at a premium.) I offer my opinions freely while aware that they might ruffle my company. I politely turn down an invitation if I’m not feeling up to going out. By extension I’m more decisive–my mind is clearer, less obstructed with the gray areas. My mental weather report has fewer clouds these days.
When she turned 81, (She’s now 84), Toni Morrison referred to the freedom that can accompany aging:
“At 81, I don’t have to feel guilty about anything.”
Toni Morrison (independent.co.uk)
No doubt as a consequence of having lived along for awhile now, I have become proficient at enjoying my own company. I’m nourished by my daily repertoire of charming sightings on my walks about town, or by insights gleaned from something I’ve read, or by time spent musing over nothing in particular. (I’ve given myself permission to “waste time,” where reflection is valued as an entry to becoming more self-aware rather than being regarded as ‘unproductive.’)
In youth we learn, in age we understand.
-Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach (19th Century Austrian writer)
I’m far more appreciative of my life in general: my relative good health, my privileged state as a first world woman, and my community of close friends and family members. I practice daily gratitude, which keeps me from slipping into big ego ruts.
In my seventh decade I feel the sacredness of life anew. My compassion meter has risen—a likely response to the huge mess of the world. I try to do my small part to address inequality by working for peace and justice causes.
I’m better at taking stock of myself.
When I get too serious, I watch a wacky movie on my laptop, read zany humor, like James Thurber, or seek out whimsical friends. I laugh as much as I can every day, an especially meaningful (and challenging) practice on days when I’m feeling crappy.
Colette wrote of the importance of being astonished as one ages.
I try to follow her advice by by taking on new interests, reading in new directions and seeking out stimulating conversation.
Colette celebrating her 80th Birthday–one way to be astonished! (Walter Carone)
I draw inspiration from this quote of Mary Oliver’s, tacked on my bulletin board:
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it is over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightening,
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
Mary Oliver in solitude with her beloved dog. (Rachel Giese Brown)
