are we olders entitled to a seat on the bus?
a friend recently related how embarrassed she was when someone stood up on the bus and offered her a seat. she said she felt old. for her ‘old’ was a negative, implying she was no longer able to stand, no longer physically fit. she did not want, simply by virtue of her grey hair, to be entitled to a seat. maybe, she mused, the person offering the seat had a headache or a heartache and was more in need of the seat than she was.i came away from the conversation pondering...how many times had i stood up for someone in the bus, on the tube? as a teenager i took three buses daily to get from my family’s new home to my high school. i stood a lot as i gave my seat to others who i thought were in greater need than i, many of them elders.is it payback time? had i earned enough good karma points to be able to sit now that my hair is greying and elder years show on my face?
i also recalled a time when i was obliged to take a rail replacement bus for the last 40 minutes of a journey home. i stood the entire time. i admit, i glowered at the two young people smooching in the seats right in front of me. by the time the bus journey ended, i was grumpy.my comment..."i hope someone offers a seat on the bus to your grandmother .”gratitude often springs to my heart when someone offers me a seat on hot and crowded public transport. while i am in good physical condition, there are certainly days i would much rather sit than stand. i am not embarrassed by the generosity of others; nor am i embarrassed to accept, with thanks.
do i feel entitled? sometimes yes, sometimes not really. rather i see the offer as a courtesy, a kindness. kindness is the balm of human interaction. it enables joy and a happier world.we need more kindness and more offers of seats!
can you imagine it?
in every yoga class you can hear a sigh of gratitude when the teacher says, “please prepare yourself, and what you need, for our final relaxation.”
final relaxation is an interesting phrase for what in sanskrit is called “shavasana”…the pose of the corpse. can we truly relax into ‘corpse-hood’?i have, for years, thought of this pose as yoga’s greatest challenge. how to use that 5 or 10 minutes imagining myself as a corpse? in the stillness of body we ideally maintain full awareness as we practice shavasana. at the same time, there is an element of letting go completely, releasing to the support of the floor and the warmth of the blanket.can i think of myself as dead? not really.however, i can practice imagining that my life, as i have known it thus far, is over.each moment is a death, a passing of time, never to be reclaimed. each breath is unique and will never be repeated. each heartbeat, a manifestation of consciousness beyond words, can only happen once in a lifetime.
each thought passes through the minefield in its singular form, never to repeat exactly the same way. each blink bathes the eyes in that moment only.knowing all this, i can then commit to take what’s left before i become a corpse…the next moment, the following breath, the succeeding heartbeat…and live it with curiosity, purpose and passion. i can, as i lie still on the yoga mat, breathing, live in a vast, unbounded “yes”.
i can aspire to open to the offerings that arise, whether pleasant or painful, whether planned or unexpected.i can, in the tranquility of shavasana, be free.
17th or 21st century?
on the morning of 4 august i opened a book of daily readings which i aspire to read every day. this is what i read on that day, written by a 17th century nun.“Lord, thou knows better than I know myself tat I am growing older and will someday be old.
Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from the craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody, helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knows that I want a few friends in the end.Keep my mind free of recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pains.
These are increasing, and my love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for the grace to enjoy the tales of others’ pain, but help me to endure them with patience.I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.
Keep me reasonably sweet--I do no want to be a Saint—some of them are so hard to live with—but a sour old person is on of the crowning works of the devil.Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And give me the grace to tell them so. Amen”
if i didn’t trust the compiler of this book, andrew harvey, so deeply, i would have thought this was written last year!(the book is entitled, “light the flame: 365 days of prayer from around the world.)
protesting pensioners
in june of this year the guardian published an article with the headline,”i wake up angry and go to bed angry: meet the protesting pensioners. the journalist, amelia hill, featured several people over 60 who take part, in one way or another, in actions supporting causes that they hold dear…extinction rebellion, grenfell tower, brexit, peace, racism, delayed retirement.
they are each passionate. some have been arrested. others work with trade unions to build partnerships. a few have started groups, using their new-found social media skills to reach out. others have taken to the streets in the time-honoured way of marching and chanting following a colourful banner.
what most have them have found, in addition to renewed energy and new friendships, is that they are no longer as headstrong as they were decades ago. they have learned to engage with people whose views they oppose. some found they were now, older with less to lose, willing to defy authority.they have learned to see the broader picture and take a more thoughtful approach. some have live current events as the history of the past and see similarities. some were moved by a particular injustice that broke their heart and mobilised them into action. their long experience allows them to reach younger people as well as their peers.they all are filled with passion. they all are committed to their work in the world. they all are focused, clear and ordinary people.
they are all elders.
life's beauty
when is beauty, for its own sake, enough?in this era of instagram and selfies, do we really need another photograph? do we need another painting? do we even need to remember that inspiring sunset, last year's holiday, the delicious meal?these questions are not to belittle the creative enjoyment of photography or painting. nor are they questioning the delight of wonderful food. rather, they are questions to be pondered as we grow into elderhood and discern the best use of our energy.toni morrison, (born 1931) american novelist, essayist, nobel prize winner, editor, teacher and professor emeritus at princeton university, tells us no, we don’t need the photos or the paintings. she simply reminds us “at some point life’s beauty becomes enough”.
elders, it seems, have reached that point. each moment is precious in and of itself. it needs no embellishment, no frills or photos. yes, it might be nice to share a picture with a friend. it seems though, that after the second or third glance, it no longer holds the passion it held at the moment.living in the present, living in each breath, living in each movement is enough.holding your beloved ones is enough.
seeing a cloud floating across the sky is enough.experiencing a painful moment is enough.
exploring a new interest is enough.shedding tears for refugees, for Mother Earth, for rape victims is enough.
smelling a jasmine flower is enough.tasting fresh parsley, biting into corn on the cob, a tomato exploding in your mouth is enough.feeling your heart in awe of life is enough.
now is the point at which life’s beauty is enough.
gerontologist
dr. esther aronson recently published* a book entitled “elderhood”.
she writes from decades of medical experience working with older people. some of her patients are in there 60s, others in their 100s. what is clear from a recent interview on national public radio (non-commercial broadcasting in the US)(https://www.npr.org/templates/transcript/transcript.php?storyId=732737956) is that there is almost no research to support doctors in treating older people.the situation is probably the same in the UK as it is in the US...more doctors train for paediatrics than geriatrics despite the fact that, on the whole, more care is needed as we age than in the first part of life. in other words, caring for older people just isn’t as sexy as dealing with kids.dr. aronson talks a great deal about medications and the problems faced by older people in the world of medicines.
there is much to be learned in this 35-minute interview. she speaks eloquently about her own eldering process, preceded by a massive burnout. she also talks of her father’s dying and the difficult decisions that needed to be made.her deepest advice is to plan...create advance directives, make clear to those closest to you what you want and what you don’t want. deal with your material possessions as well as your medical needs as best you can. of course, there is always the unexpected, but if there is documentation of your desires, you are more likely to have the treatment you choose.
we cannot know the day of our death. we do know, however, that it will happen. we cannot know the circumstances of our death. however, we can make clear the manner in which we would prefer to die.facing our mortality is a task of the elder. inquiring deeply into our hearts about our values, our commitments, our beliefs can lead us to making the plans that will guide our dear ones and make their tasks a bit lighter.*available in the UK in september, 2019