I have always been acutely aware of the ageing process. However there’s never been a milestone age which has had too detrimental an impact on my psyche – yet. Every time I reach the start of a new decade, an emotional melée of happiness, regret, self-reflection, hope and fear swills through my senses, but still I’m surviving – just about.
I think perhaps it’s those around me who have caused me to reflect the most. Dementia and Alzheimer’s have affected many of those I loved, and love, nonetheless those annoying adages “Age is only a number” and “You’re only as old as you feel” ring in my ears.
One of my favourite aunts in her final decades claimed ‘nobody understood her illness’, as she continually convinced herself she was old and sick, spinning herself into a cycle of decline, alone in a little dark back room of her beautiful home. Perhaps nobody did understand her illness.
If you think you’re old, you’ll act old. People who convince themselves they are frail no longer find the motivation to exercise. Years don’t age us – giving up ages us (and genuine illness).
Incidentally, 40 is not the new 30, and 50 is not the new 40. 40 is 40, 50 is 50, and 80 is 80. We are as a race simply living longer.
As I watch my nieces, nephews and godchildren progress through school, college and married life, the ageing process appears even more apparent. Yet somehow as I smile at my late Mum’s photo on my bedside table at bedtime, I still feel like I’m that little boy doing his homework at the kitchen table to keep her company while she did the ironing. And though she’s gone, I nonetheless find myself still strangely yearning for her approval.
My chosen career path has possibly given me a younger outlook on life, maybe I’ve never grown up, or perhaps I just ’think young’. I am now at that age I once viewed as ‘ancient’, ‘over-the-hill’, ‘past-it’.
Because of our touring schedule I have managed to avoid school reunions, apart from the initial one – a memorable night. Hmm. I had remained in contact, and still do, with my close school friends. But on that ill-fated 10-year-reunion night I was immediately cornered by three of my female classmates recounting their varied scintillating labour experiences. Epidural anyone? They then proceeded to patronise me about not having 2.4 kids, the mortgage, and the suburban ‘semi-d’. In the end I found myself defending the fact that music and singing was my chosen career path. A hobby becoming a career – that’s just weird they implied. I am told the subsequent reunions were more enjoyable – people were less judgemental – so I may just brave the next one, if I’m in the country, and assuming my therapist is free as my date.
I have some wonderful childhood memories, some less good, and love to reminisce as much as the next guy. However I find no need to keep harking back to ’the good old days’. I am generally grateful, thankful of where I’m at, and in reasonable health! I think I’ve a good sense of humour, I focus on the positive – I have tried to dump the negative ‘cos sometimes there really is just too much water under that bridge. If we adopt a positive outlook on ‘age’, have an active fun social life, keep our minds active, and treat ourselves, we will surely have a better quality of life?
And what’s with this constant quest for eternal youth? If we are focussing on chasing youth, getting surgically ‘enhanced’, dying hair, investing in implants, sporting unsexy comb-overs, then aren’t we just trying to live in those ‘good old days’? If we focus our energies on regaining youth, at some point we will be seriously disappointed, and Lord we have all witnessed some show-stopping disappointments. When we look in the mirror can’t we just ignore those blemishes, and instead appreciate life’s opportunities and challenges? Don’t see ‘youth’ as better. Go with the flow. The wrinkles, crow’s feet and multifarious blemishes on my lived-in face and body tell my story – my individual story.
With age (hopefully) comes wisdom, patience, humour and a generous dollop of cynicism.
Let’s rejoice in our individual lives, our individual dreams, and sport a smile on our lived-in faces.
Otherwise life will defeat us, if we let it.
