The Gift of Age
Lately I have been watching runners, serious walkers,
cyclists, and strollers pass by on our street doing what I used to do as
recently as a decade ago. I look at them with a touch of envy. Except for
cycling, I can no longer do what they are doing so casually, and usually,
gracefully. I look at them with a shadow of pain, because I have parted with
something, an ease of physical achievement. And perhaps of spirit which I then
possessed.
So what do I have in its place? What strengths and positives remain? There
must be some gains that make up for the loss of youth. Because I have paid last
respects to so many family and friends, some of them taken way too early, I
know that growing older is a gift. I also know that growing older brings aches
and pains and other miseries. But gains there are that make up for that loss of
youth.
I no longer feel the self-consciousness that caused me
such excruciating pain when I was young. How many times did I feel humiliated
that I had nothing to say, or worse still, said the wrong thing when I wanted
to make an impression.
That is gone now. I no longer need to be impressive.
Having rid myself of this need, I find myself more at ease even though I am an
introvert who can pass as an extrovert at times. I find other people more
interesting. I start conversations with strangers because I am interested in
them, and with my friends, not with the desire of impressing but being glad
enough to be tolerated. I now often dare to say what I really think and I realize
that my point of view is one of many and that I should be prepared to revise
it. I no longer demand agreement. Often I can admit that I know nothing of a
subject.
With age the pressure of convention decreases. Gradually
I have discovered that people trouble themselves very little about what one
did. I now find that I can decline invitations to many events that I have
little or no interest in because I know they will bore me.
As well, I find that I am no longer as judgmental as I
once was. Well, less judgmental. It used to be that if I didn't find a person's
manner pleasing, or I didn't like the fashion of his/her clothes, I would set
the person down in my mind. I now know these are superficial things and that
there can be a kind heart and an interesting personality that can belie the
outside appearance. In fact I now find that people with oddities whom I might
have given short shrift to in my earlier years, now form an interesting variety.
Now when I find a person’s manner unattractive, I usually find that it is often
nothing more than shyness which often disappears when I make the effort to get
to know the person.
When I was young, I had sharper feelings, keener
perceptions, and more passionate thrills and feelings. At the same time I was
more prone to swifter discouragement and despair and times when life was almost
too difficult to take on. Now life is not so breath-taking but it is more
interesting. When I was young I searched for the impressive beautiful things,
things that would stir and move me. Now as I grow older I recognize a simpler
kind of beauty. Just looking out at our backyard, I can watch the changing seasons
and I see the beauty of the rich colors of summer, the browns and yellows of
spring and fall, and the changing white beauty of winter. I watch the
activities of the many birds, flying insects, and the small animals, I see so
much beauty. I grow to demand less of nature, of the world, of people, and the
result is a whole new range of kinder, gentler emotions.
I also have managed in my aging to acquire more patience.
In youth I was subject to feelings that mistakes were unchangeable, the disappointments
of life were intolerable, and the calamities of life almost unbearable. I now
find that mistakes are repairable, that calamities sometimes have a
compensating joy, and that disappointments offer us incentives to try again.
Once many of the sorrows in life were in the imagination as
were the anticipation of calamities. Now I have the power and the background to
recall the good days that have been and to simply anticipate and enjoy each
day. I wake up in the morning and realize I have the whole day to do or
experience life as it is. The days are numbered and I am closer to the end than
I am to my beginning, and even with the decay of aging setting in, I enjoy each
day with a great peace and a sense of wonder and anticipation.
Carpe Diem!
