Enjoying the inevitable process of aging

These are excerpts from the book, “Let Evening Come: Reflections on Aging” by Mary C. Morrison.

Morris L. West wrote a beautiful Preface for the book, although he never met the woman who wrote it. “I cherish a faint hope that one day before we both move off the planet, we may meet and touch hands and exchange a smile of recognition and understanding… We have both faced the same questions and come up with much the same answers. To enjoy the inevitable process of aging, one needs the courage to be content — though never satisfied — to maintain a whole list of unfinished business, and to add to the list, new ventures everyday.”

“Wise elders do not engage in combat, and all their victories are quiet ones,” West concluded.

Old age is not for the fainthearted

The saying that “old age is not for the fainthearted” has become almost a proverb. Aging takes courage. To preside over the disintegration of one’s own body, looking on as sight and hearing, strength, speed, and short-term memory deteriorate, calls for a heroism that is no less impressive for being quiet and patient.

To watch the same process taking place in someone whom one loves requires another kind of heroism, expressed in patience, devotion, and care. And to endure or watch the kind of deterioration that leaves only the empty shell of a person, as with Alzheimer’s, calls for heroism in total defeat that is beyond words. Old age is not for the fainthearted and anyone who watches it closely and with a sympathetic eye can sometimes be lost in admiration for the aging and their gallantry.

Where does this gallantry come from? Where is dignity to be found in it? How shall we find in ourselves the dignity that we see is needed?

The spirit of old age produces great things

Marion Morris, a bacteriologist/immunologist, who was in her 80s said, “Strength and energy fail as time moves on, but the spirit continues to produce great things.” The spirit – psyche – the soul – the self – the inner life – by whatever name, this is the area of life and growth and work for our old age.

Flerida Romero, former Supreme Court Justice, stated in one of the Theosophy lectures she gave: “Now that I am retired, many still ask me to give speeches regarding law and justice. I have to turn them down for I prefer to speak about spiritual concerns instead.”

The difficulties of old age give way to the challenge of finding out who we are, requiring constant spiritual introspection. Dealing with these difficulties, we can even become wise. We can learn to live into old age well and move on gracefully.

Keeping a journal of thoughtful writings

What inner tools do we need for this inner work?

First, we need to begin keeping a journal — not a diary — but a thoughtful writing-down of happenings, thoughts, dreams, nightmares, things we read or hear that seem important. We need to write down thoughtfully our responses to whatever claims our attention for whatever reasons; as well as what of all our lifetime store of soul furniture we want to keep or discard. A journal is an instrument of awareness, through which we can watch what we do so we can find out who we are.

Second, we need to become comfortable in experiencing paradox. In old age, paradox rules our lives. Failure is success. Loss is gain. Defeat is victory. Every loss contains a gift. Losing one’s life is finding it. Many of the great life truths come in paradox, and we have heard them often. Now in old age we begin to experience them.

Third, we must to learn to live with continuing questions to which there seems to be no immediate answers. In the speed and busyness of younger life we hardly noticed it. What has life been, in all its stages? What is it now? How are we going to respond to the inevitable and growing diminishment that is coming upon us? The first step comes when we suddenly realize that we have moved up a generation and are no longer the younger generation. For some of us it happens on the job as we see younger people beginning to take over the work that we have done well for so long. For others, it happens within the family context.

Let us look at the photo albums

After a four-year lapse in visiting her Florida family, Mary Morrison and her husband, Maxey, found one thing deep and disturbing. They were now the oldest generation. Their children and nephews and nieces were occupying that spot. Their parents, uncles, and aunts had either died or moved into retirement centers. Now, they were in the time slot marked OLD.

Translated from French – Regardons l’album de photographie…

“Let’s look at the photograph albums, the young are old, the old are dead – Let’s turn the page.”

This is one of those phenomena of life that seem ordinary and human and simple but are inwardly complex and convoluted. It was difficult to adjust to. The best way of describing it is: “We were no longer where the action was. We were no longer where the decisions, large and small, were being made. We were out on the sidelines. We had been called out of the game. A bad feeling, a good feeling, it was some of both… It was a matter of seeing busy people making time for us. And of course, this will get more so when and if we become less able to be active.”

Detachments

Mary remembers vividly the moment when the then middle generation began to receive her into the Glorious Company of Adults. The crossing over was clearly delineated with a well-marked road ahead. This new road is not marked at all, and she felt the uncertainties strongly.

In the process of becoming the oldest generation, do we detach ourselves and make a new life? We have spent the best years of our lives learning the managerial skills that family life demands. How can we possibly lay them down? But now we must do so, and as gracefully as possible.

We no longer need to know exactly what is going on at every moment. We no longer need to orchestrate the days as they go by. We are no longer responsible for the quality of life within the family or the group. Other people are doing that now, and it should comfort us that some of them, at least, are the very people we have had a chance to influence and guide, in whom we can and should place our confidence. Once we realize this, is it not a great relief?

Now, we are free to move quietly out of the center of family life and into its circumference. It is time to explore a new set of possible relationships, based on interests and personal tastes rather than blood ties. It is time for rediscovering friendship as a priority in our lives, for making new friends and reconnecting with old ones. Now is the time for painting classes, piano and voice lessons, volunteering for work that is of interest, not merely to keep busy but to meet new friends, both old and young. Now is our chance to savor one of life’s greatest pleasures – working on a common interest with congenial friends.

The last quarter of a hundred years of long life

All throughout our life, we are engaged in a natural process which, if we let it, will bring us out in this good place. The first half of life insists that we develop a good, energetic, driving ego that will enable us to do what we need to do in the world — learn, work, establish a household, be a citizen. But, somewhere along in the second half, a different voice begins speaking inside us.

We fear less, because the long tomorrow presents itself as a respite and a relief from the grief of today. The love we can still give is unconditional. The love we receive is doubly precious. –Preciosa S. Soliven (The Philippine Star)

(For more information or reaction, please e-mail at exec@obmontessori.edu.ph or pssoliven@yahoo.com)