In the past month or so, I have noticed that I am ready to move on. I am ready to move on from politics. I am ready to move on from yelling at each other. I am ready to move on from fearing what may happen. I am ready to move on with my life.
When I look back, I am struck by how my memory of these past months is rooted in the experience of doing nothing. I don’t actually remember dates of things. If my calendar didn’t tell me what I was doing on such-and-such a date, I wouldn’t have a hook to hang them on.
Of course, my life has been moving on, whether I am ready or not. Weeks fly by in spite of my mindfully paying attention to the moment. My weekly appointment calendar that was pristine in January promising splendid adventures, is now filled with appointments kept or canceled and reminders for observed holidays and phases of the moon.
Readiness Does Not Signify Change
As someone living with long-COVID, I continually experience the necessity of taking time to slow down and come to terms with what kinds of influence I have on myself and those I am connected to. It took long-COVID to really teach me just how vital self-love is.
What is true for me is that just because I am ready for change doesn’t mean that things will change in response to my readiness. For example, I think I am ready for a new relationship, yet I find excuses to stay at home, and in fact, I mostly prefer my own company!
I am ready to return to vitality and good health, yet I have limitations, physical and psychological, that prevent my implementing the changes I need to make.
I have sat with many older adults who have lived a full life and are ready to go, but remain suspended between living and dying. My capacity to witness their pain and suffering increases with practice but doesn’t hasten their passing.
The Tipping Point on Aging
Malcom Gladwell’s book The Tipping Point came out in 2001. In it he brilliantly brings into focus how social change occurs. It is not linear. The visionaries, the salespersons, the “mavens” as he tags them, all swirl around, seemingly without connection, until, “Boom!”, the kaleidoscope turns and the pieces fall into place. I am sensing we are at a tipping point now. It has certainly taken a while, but it is here.
Those of us who have been working in the field of aging will tell you that for decades it has been a lonesome journey, with only the occasional gathering of the tribes to reassure us we were not lost in the desert.
We would speak of the same themes: the challenges in meeting the needs of an increasingly older population, lack of funding for research, lack of resources to adequately train and staff care homes and long-term care facilities, underpayment of providers, and a general dismissal of the extraordinary nuances that life offers after that benchmark birthday of 65.
Reclaiming Our Present; Rewriting Our Future
As with many life changes, it is only when we are living the experience that it takes on importance. There are now sufficient numbers of Boomers who are taking stock of what it feels like to be 68 or 73 or 86. And it isn’t like what “they” said it was going to be!
Greater numbers of aging adults are exploring and describing their lived experience. Their words are reaching across the generations and penetrating wider markets. These experiences are in stark contrast with the ageist images of frail elderly or technologically challenged gray-hairs perpetuated by marketers and pharmaceutical companies. We are reclaiming our present and re-writing our future.
Three Questions to Get You Moving
A friend posed three questions to me recently.
“Who are you now?”
“Why are you here?”
“Where would you like your ‘where’ to be?”
Here are my answers:
I am a vital, thoughtful, and passionate older woman who has wisdom and insights worth sharing.
I am here to change lives for the better and to offer compassion and understanding, especially to those who feel silenced or invisible.
I would very much like my “where” to be here and now, although I find myself spending more time with my past and making amends. I realize that my physical “where” may need to be more temporary than it has been, because the world I am a part of right now is unsteady, but my internal “where” is anchored in my heart.
Let’s Have a Conversation:
How do you answer these questions: “Who am I now?” “Why am I here?” “Where would you like your ‘where’ to be?” How has your answer changed in the past year? Why has it changed?
