This post is from Sandy Conant Strachan about the advantages (and disadvantages) of being old. This is a letter she sent to a good friend.
Dear Friend, I loved your question about the advantages of being old. I think a ton of people are wondering —- especially if they’re over 70 (not to mention 80)! I’m writing my take on this as much for me as for you —-because I find this is worth thinking about.
Let me share how I define an “advantage.” The dictionary says it’s “something that helps you be successful.” For me, an advantage is anything that contributes to consciousness, creativity and growth. Anything that increases my chances of finding a more adaptive self-story. An advantage helps me be more loving and stay engaged with what is life-giving. Being adaptive, loving and life-giving are my elements of “success.”
Our perceptions of ‘advantages’ and ‘disadvantages’ change with every new season of life. But the categories don’t go away. Given that what’s an advantage for me might not be one for you; it’s important for each person to do her/his own.
That said, let me start with the disadvantages. I want to make it clear that I’m NOT oblivious to the fact that growing old is a struggle, a challenge, a real war we will all fight if we live long enough. Why do I call it a “war”?
- We’re at war with our bodies. They’re letting us down in all sorts of ways. We can’t walk as well or as confidently. We can’t see or hear or remember or speak as eloquently and clearly as before. We’re clumsier. We get sick or fall more easily, and it’s harder to recover.
- We’re at war with our minds. We’re techno-dinosaurs, baffled by too many technologies that are “ïntuitive” to anyone under 35. We can’t remember names or what we came into this room for. Telephone numbers are impossible. The list is endless.
- We’re at war with both the past and the future. We reject, hate, ignore or regret chunks of our past — lousy parents or parenting, shameful periods, betrayals, flawed marriages, etc. We feel the future is limited and that we’re sliding into oblivion with neither the time nor the energy to slow the descent. We have an increased tendency to feel hopeless, ashamed or regretful.
- We’re at war with our inner selves. Some of our worst traits come to the fore when we aren’t looking. We harbor a constant dialogue between the old person everyone sees and the young person alive and well inside. We question the reasons for our existence – what am I here to do? What’s my mission? Where’s my motivation? We have all the dilemmas of adolescence stuffed into a much less resilient “wine skin.” At least we don’t have acne!
There’s probably more, but that’s enough for now.
So why do I think this is a wonderful season of life? An actual advantage of being old? What are the possibilities in late life that make it rich and even enjoyable? Here goes:
- I am more skeptical of what have been called the Three Lies:
- I am what I do
- I am what I have
- I am what other people say I am.
- I’ve lived long enough to know that these statements are questionable. Age begins to free me from the bondage of what other people think. That freedom offers more courage to be who I want to be. A new independence of spirit emerges.
- I’ve also lived long enough to know that “this too shall pass away.” It’s tough to realize that I have little or no control over much other than myself, and the last two years have been a time of intense “not-knowing.” It’s led to a fresh discovery that impermanence is a fact of life, not an opinion. Saying yes to impermanence helps me be more confident that there’s an end in sight and that I’ll emerge from struggle – maybe not radically changed, but hopefully wiser. I’m learning to live with not being in control. I’m getting better at letting stuff go so I can live the moment. I’m more relaxed about the foibles/weaknesses/hateful aspects of both myself and others. I know I won’t change my “stripes”— but I can become more aware and sensitive.
- I have time to explore my inner landscape, to get to know what makes me tick, which narratives work and are adaptive, and which ones aren’t. I evaluate my self-stories more regularly and it helps me better understand other people, their narratives and motivations. Every person has an inner universe that shapes them, and compassion grows when I remember that.
- Because of the limits of age, I have to be more creative about coming up with ways to contribute, especially to society. Because I can’t DO as much as I could when young, I have to think about other avenues for investing in the future other than “my work.” I have enough money to make contributions, now more important. Mentoring people, writing letters to voters, volunteering at the border have been options I’ve chosen. But there are so many others. I think of the old man who volunteered to hold babies at his local hospital — babies orphaned or whose moms couldn’t care for them or whatever. He just sat and held and rocked and sang, which he could do because he had nothing but time and the patience of old age. Or the spry 80-year-old who was a part-time receptionist at my mother’s retirement center. Or a friend who’s working with Hospice and has a patient that always tells her to “Get out!” — until one day the patient lets her stay. I think about Jesse, a quadriplegic due to severe arthritis, who listened and counseled others up to the moment of her death. I’ve discovered that it’s possible to be “active” no matter where you are or what your circumstances may be.
- Since childhood, I’ve believed that there’s such a thing as “spirit” or “soul”—a depth to life that I want to explore. Now at 76 and in the last chapter of my life, I’m convinced I’ve been “accompanied” through life. I see more clearly that there’s meaning in EVERY event – good or bad. There’s learning hidden in every challenge. There’s learning in how I did or didn’t respond to that challenge. And I’m confident we contain strength, resilience and insight that is not due to our intellect, good breeding or station in life. Age allows me to see larger patterns in how things turned out, where I went wrong or right, what I gained from every experience. And because I can affirm the past, I have more trust in the future.
- I believe I can “prepare” for death. Obviously, I can’t guarantee that I won’t be a nutty, mean, demented old woman, nor have I any clue regarding the how or when of death. BUT—-I can develop habits of thought that lead to positive narratives. I can abandon stories like “I never measured up to my mother’s expectations” or “nobody liked me” or “I’m fat and ugly” and substitute positive, adaptive self-talk. I can work through regrets. I can atone where it’s necessary. Growing old makes that preparation more urgent, but it also gives me space to look hard at how I want to die, my sustaining narratives and what will carry me over the threshold.
- I find I’m clearer on the subtle masks that Ego puts on. When I feel invisible, Ego is whispering that other people should appreciate me more. When I’m angry, Ego is rooting me on to be RIGHT! When I feel inadequate, Ego is telling me that I really sorta am. Ego has undoubtedly played an important, largely positive role in my life, but I’m newly aware that it can also tell me lies. It can awaken my arrogance or my instinct to self-preservation. It can be a really sneaky voice, and age is helping me recognize it and put it in its place. I realize this perspective may not make sense to a lot of people. All I can say is that I better understand how useless it is to vehemently assert MY truth or proclaim my self-righteousness as if my life depended on it. My life doesn’t depend on “being right.” More important, my Self doesn’t depend on it. I can be wrong and not die. My opinion can be ignored, and I won’t die. That’s good to know.
- I believe Gratitude is the key to a healthy, happy, fulfilling life. Aging offers more experience and wisdom to confirm and encourage gratitude for everything and everyone. I can relax into thanks for all I’ve been given versus fretting over all that is, was or will be missing. An attitude of gratitude heals many wounds.
I could probably go on, but I won’t. However, dear friend, I really like the question you asked – what are the advantages of being old? Keep asking people and then write me YOUR “declaration”! Love, Sandy