Taking some time to free-write. It’s been a while since I have. What’s been at the forefront of my mind lately is the passage of time and aging. “Age.” That gift that keeps on giving!
Perhaps it’s just hindsight around the COVID era, but it sure does feel like we have aged and matured a bit more rapidly both as individuals and as a collective since the pandemic first arrived on the scene.
I went home for an extended visit recently (it had only been about 6 months or so since I had been back in Massachusetts), and what struck me was how time had worked its magic on us all. I tend to think of my parents and grandparents as being at an “evergreen” age–roughly in their low 40s and low 60s respectively. But this trip, I really got dealt some disillusionment with the images I hold dear in my head when I think of my family members.
Even the basic stuff–like how certain tasks are beginning to take a little bit longer for some; how endurance might’ve lessened a little bit for others; how awareness and consciousness has expanded for some; come as understandable and expected to some degree. Yet for others, things got considerably tougher in just the past few months since I last saw them.
It still makes me feel sad. As if I’m already mourning a family member’s inevitable death or longing for the way things were. Even elements of wishing I did things differently in the relationship. Accepting a loved one’s journey on to the next step ain’t an easy task–and sometimes I wonder how many of us out there do it consciously. Or how many just go on ignoring the feelings and write them off with a phrase like, “Well, he’s 80… what did you expect?”
I think it’s funny that we don’t really expect the aging process to happen to ourselves. We all, to some degree or another, have blinders on to the idea. But behind those dark sunglasses are rather intense fears of aging. I mean damn, being and looking young is SO embedded in our culture. We wage war on the idea of “old.” My generation even uses the stabbing “Boomer” insult that judges an entire generation of my elders by the actions of a handful of heinous individuals. We fear aging, death, and dying immensely–and in the face of fear, it’s easier to name-call than to shift between perspectives.
How could you go on expecting that you wouldn’t have some amazing, powerful, incredible, emotional experience of life from the perspective of a maturing body, mind, and spirit?
We’ve got such a negative view of aging that it is worth it to challenge the perspective of this rather natural process of life. Aging keeps things fresh by allowing you to experience a previously unknown spectrum of emotions, memories, and events. It allows you to grow in maturity; to examine your own psychology; and encapsulate up to 100 years of growth (or more) in one single body.
Instead, it’s: “Put this shit on your face to get rid of the wrinkles.” Get your hair dyed. Buy that injection, or schedule some suction!”
It makes me sad that this is the world I’m inheriting. We live in a society where the young have relevance and the elderly are outcast. What’s up with the idea of sending your loved ones away to nursing homes because you can’t be bothered to complete the circle of life by nurturing and caring for the ones that changed your diapers? Additionally, social security and retirement feels unattainable; especially with the age requirements they place on when you can collect. What is the “carrot” retirement age now, 70? What happened to enjoying the Golden Years?
On top of the social and cultural pressures to hide one’s age, individually, we have so many rules about how the aging process should happen to oneself.
“Oh well, my grandfather had bad knees. And my dad’s got bad knees. I’m probably going to get bad knees.” Or “You get old. You get cancer.” “Heart disease runs in our family.” Familial rules have an integral part in how one creates their own reality, so wouldn’t it do you some good to acknowledge these statements, see them as shared group agreements, and let them go as such? Clear these life-sucking mantras right out of your space?
Even those classic sayings such as “Life sucks, then you die,” and “Getting old sucks!” have power! Why let them control your fate? Your words give the programming that much more power.
Getting back home was an eye opener for me, because for so many in my family right now, we are all sharing various matching pictures in being another year older and feeling that much closer to death. Well, variations of these themes, more or less.
But I think what I took away from the bittersweet visit, reflecting upon it now, is that there really is no such thing as death. Energy cannot be created or destroyed. Period. It’s physics. A spirit can leave a body, and the body returns to the Earth only to become a part of this amazing living rock once again.
I speak to my grandfather all of the time. He communicates to me through birds and songs with just the right happenstance, to make sure that I know it’s him. I can still hear his warm laugh and wise-guy jokes off in the corner as I go along my day talking and conversing with those in-body. (Did I mention that he died in 2017?) Yet I can feel his presence with me down to my bones. Unquestioningly.
But even amidst my experiences and knowingness, it’s still hard to remember, sometimes, that death isn’t real. That’s how strong and embedded the fear is. I think that what it all comes down to is the fear of the unknown. I hope that for our elders sake, we make the distinction and can find ways to be there for the ones we love when they need it most.