Turning the Tide

There is something that distinguishes elders from those that are merely older. To me, this distinction is important, because I think it has a lot to do with the state of old people in this culture. Gray folks are treated like human refuse, when in fact, they embody what appears to me to be a central miracle of Life. The old ones, when they have escaped the de-humanizing clutch of the market place, are the fullest embodiment of Nature’s intentions for we humans.

I am referring to the organic shift inwards that takes place in old age. For those that already have an inner life (which some develop much younger) the transition to elderhood is much easier, than for those who have assiduously avoided the challenges associated with “inner” disturbances. Journeying through the looking glass, into a new, more inner-defined life is still hard. It is nearly impossible to those who have learned to sidestep inner stirrings.  The difficulties of metamorphosis are significant, becoming a wiser gray being is daunting, especially to those who have avoided the light within, out of fear of the darkness.

The drive for economic viability, for a favorable place in the herd, for fitting in to a dysfunctional system, makes looking within rare. The developmental tendency to look outside for cues about how to be — is hard to give up. The psychic cost of clinging too long to that strategy, is a reduction of confidence in the internal changes that accompany old age. When wrinkles and gray hair appear, interior alterations begin. For most, this natural flux is an exacting transition. Nature stimulates a shift that throws many people off.

Some refuse to adjust. For them, old age is a series of humiliating and undesirable insults. But for those with an inner life, or who are willing to develop one, the acquisition of in-sight is especially delightful. The winds of change are at one’s back. Nature assists, and Life becomes something else, something unexpected.  A ripening occurs, and a fresh set of possibilities, arise.

This brings one to the turning point. The tide turns, and living becomes more miraculous, and more assuring, when the stirring within is linked to larger processes of Life. The Earth turns on its axis. Human life also turns on an axis. Each are oriented by Nature, and in the case of a minority of humans (elders), happiness follows.

Elder life can be the most fulfilling part of existing. It is the era when one becomes fully. The gratification of completeness, of being in the flow, of becoming entirely oneself, of being desired by the Universe, is so satisfying that it should be known. Our kind could relax.

Being carried along, by the tide, is a heart-opening experience. It puts to rest all haunting uncertainties. The specter of not fitting in, of not having a home, of being born a mistake, goes away. Belonging is an organic reality. Life knows what it is doing, and elderhood is everyone’s proof.

The tide is turning — old people cannot help manifesting this important fact of existence. Culture prepares us badly — but Nature corrects anyway. Getting old is a chance to notice this from the inside out. The tide turns. 

The Green Fuse

“The force that through the green fuse drives the flower”

                                                                                                                           Dylan Thomas

There is a force that hasn’t gotten adequate recognition. Elder’s lives are too easily categorized and dismissed — because what drives aging is so hard to perceive. I’ll say more about how this happens later, but for now, I just want to concentrate on the fact that the later stage of human life is infused with the energy of Nature. Dr. Bill Thomas is fond of saying “aging is growth.” I’d like to amplify that perception, by pointing out that what drives human life, the force behind it all, also drives the aging process. The force that created humankind creates old age.

This perception came home to me through a friend’s relationship with his new grandson. In his love for this new member of his family, he was touched by an awareness, which has tremendous application to the respect that elder life deserves. As he watched this newborn, and marveled at his growth, he could see the elemental energy that drives all development.

He noticed that as his grandson aged, he became more aware of the environment around him. He began wriggling, and unconsciously leaning out to touch whatever attracted his attention. Slowly he began to acquire the capacity to grasp. From there he learned he could pull those things towards his inquiring mouth. My friend was captured by the recognition that this was all happening naturally, without effort, much consciousness, or guidance.

To his credit, he connected the instinctive movements of his grandson, with what was happening in his own life. New awareness and capabilities were emerging.  As he aged, he was being changed! Unbidden, he was going through a maturational process. He was being altered! He could see that he, and his grandson, were related, by more than blood — there was something, a force — that caused them to unfold themselves.

This force, the life-force, has shaped old age. The greying stage of life is something intended. It is part of the pathway of Life, an element in the design of things, which we humans do not understand presently, any more than the infant knows why it is reaching out. Late life is not what it has been thought to be (decline and demise) — it is Life bringing about a new phase of being.

The general pressure that modern life has put on Nature, the mechanization of every aspect of living, the time crunch, all have supported a terrible conceit. Hubris has taken over human perception. The assumption that we know better than what animates us, colors what we make of life. Mistakenly, we tend to think it is our efforts, instead of this force, the force of Life, that makes us more human.

Old age has been viewed through a human-created lens. It has been misperceived — shrunken into a shriveled up caricature. It suffers from a limited viewpoint. Seen through the lens of life, something new is unfolding — a ripening of the human spirit is taking place — a flowering of wild energy.

An animating force moves us. We are it. We can cooperate, appreciate what we have, learn, be renewed beings, even have evolution at our backs. To do so, however, we have to give up the idea that we are separate from this animating Mystery. Life prevails, as it will. No matter what we identify with.

The old are evidence. Through stages of growth— We are continuously cued into what matters. 

Mystery Haunted by Lucky

Something is going on here. I can feel it. I always have. Early on, I thought of it as magic. In adulthood I thought of my recurring sensation as a kind of childish wish fulfillment, and wouldn’t let myself indulge in awareness of it very much. But now, as I’m getting older, growing more sensitive and aware, I can feel it more. It’s like a kind of soul-tingling. I know, though I can’t prove it, at least not in any kind of conventional scientifically acceptable way. Something is going on in my life, and it appears to me, that something is going on with we humans, here in this place.

I don’t know what it is, but as I’ve aged, the tingling has grown into a kind of satisfying unknowing. There is something delicious and totally odd about having this feeling grow with uncertainty. The less I know, the more convinced I become. This must be some kind of trick that is inherent to growing older. I think this sense has to do with my declining fear of death and my sense of happiness increasing. Something is happening!

I don’t know if others are experiencing it. It’s probably too vague a sensation to talk about, but my level of intrigue is deepening. I keep finding that the surprises in my life seem to be adding up, making a sum I can’t ignore.

I’m not very enamored of the world’s religions. I’ve experienced some very pious and humble practitioners of these religions, but all of the ideologies behind them have been too rigid and certain for my taste. Some weird combination of Buddhism and twelve-step wisdom has come the closest for me, but I find myself fonder of not-knowing. There is something about mystery that just sets the winged delight of my soul free. I seem to thrive with uncertainty, ambiguity, and paradox.

And it is a paradox for me, to find myself enlivened by not-knowing, and a growing sense that something is going on. I’m enamored by the crazy miraculousness of this world, and the heartbreaking horror of it. I’ve been around long enough to have seen both of these facets of existence, morph into each other. And, instead of getting cynical about it, I find my sense of wonder and awe growing.

When people come to me with the tragedies they are suffering, I now have a guilty sense of joy. I’m not a sadist. I just know that growth all too often comes through those same tragedies. I’ve lost all sense of balance. Instead, I have something else — an unexplainable reverence for Life. Mystery just seems to be pouring through all of my broken expectations.

I am constantly overtaken, surprised by my innocence. Somehow, I’m way past naiveté, and filled with expectancy. I like it here, I’m often nonsensically afraid, and at the same time whimsically sanguine. I know it’s not me, and I feel somehow implicated. I’m probably as broken as a human can be, and strangely whole despite that. Life has served me up a mystery deep enough so that I can fall in, and drown, all while being buoyed up.

I don’t deserve any of it, but I feel like I am here to experience all of it — the wrenching pain and the unexpected joy. But, most of all, the sense of wonder, I am now endowed with.

There is something going on here. I don’t know what it is. Reality seems to be some kind of amniotic sac containing and growing me, through pain, inexplicable companions, and thrills I would never have signed up for. I am all too often too overwhelmed by the dizzying pace of all this commotion, to fully grasp how fortunate I am —  to be part of the something, that is going on here.