[Grovenet] getting older

Mon Jan 21 17:19:19 PST 2008

Bob, I have no idea what your situation is like, and if I did I'd not
presume to offer advice. After thinking about your message all day, I have
decided to offer something of my world, my story, in case any part of it is
of value to you. 

I'm just about a year older than you and I've come to the conclusion that I
am not what, a few decades ago, I'd have called a "senior citizen", nor will
I ever be one. 

The fact that I've lived a full 7 decades means exactly that: I'm 70 years
old. It means nothing more. 

I must still work to pay my bills. That may well always be the case as long
as I live. With age comes a greater possibility of some sort of significant
physical disability, so my plans include ways to continue to be productive
in some why in spite of what may happen to my body. 

A bit over a quarter of a century ago I "woke up" from a long slumber as a
married man and dedicated corporate manager when both my wife and my
employer both said "It's been great, but so long and thanks..." 

I had to reinvent myself. It seemed to me I had to grow up again (or for the
first time?). I was irresponsible for a while. Then I was alone as I
considered what sort of life I really wanted. Only then could I begin to
admit people into my life, and I chose those who seemed to have something to
say that I could understand. I was "back in school" in a very real sense.
That took years, but as I did I began to make new friends, perhaps the first
true friends of my life, so astonished was I at the wealth of kindness,
compassion, help and companionship they gave me. 

And my friends had many wonderful lessons for me. 

One taught me to be in the present. As we grow older we have rich, full
histories behind us of both pleasure and pain. It comes with being human.
But what matters is now. The sunlight flashing through the tree branches
outside my office window. The crisp, cool air. The sturdy family of humming
birds that defies winter to come to the feeder again and again day after
day. Learning to live in the moment, rather than in the past or the future
makes the moment richer and fuller. After all, it is all we have. The past
is a museum of personal experiences. The future is a possibility with no
guarantee. Only this moment is rich and full. It is where life exists. All
else is dead but this moment, this breath, this heartbeat. Gene is a retired
Navy pilot, a survivor war and countless carrier sorties in a jet fighter.
On reflection that experience might have taught me the same lesson <G>. 

Another taught me to be grateful. Grateful for each breath. Grateful for
sore muscles because they remind us that we are still alive. Grateful for
the unknown ahead because it is a blank slate on we are free to compose our
futures, not a fixed program we must follow like robots. That teacher,
Carol, is another writer and adventurer in life. Today she is facing the
great adventure, now in hospital with the later stages of lung cancer. After
a year and a half she has beat the odds, but barely. It's unlikely she'll
leave the hospital alive. She remains grateful for each breath and for her
wonder to discover what lies beyond dying. She has taught me exactly what
another relative meant when I held her hand on a hospital gurney as she was
dying of a stroke. She gripped my hand, smiled, and said, "Thank you." A few
minutes later she was gone.  

One of the challenges of growing older that I've found is the challenge of
helping friends die and of being the survivor, free to continue with this
experience after they're gone. With each one, I feel a small obligation to
contribute a little more to my world in some way in their memory, as of they
passed on some mystical baton of life. 

I am not suggesting that there aren't a lot of people over 60 years of age
who aren't in terrible situations: hungry, without decent shelter, without
decent lives. But, I submit, so are a great many younger folks too. We're
all in the same boat. 

If we're in a position to help, even with a few words of encouragement, we
do so, no matter the age. 

Others of all ages live with mindless discrimination just as we do.
Sometimes it's the color of their skin, sometimes it's their religion,
sometimes it's their age, sometimes its just "because". 

Another lesson I learned is the supreme value of being "selfish". I believe
selfishness is among the highest of virtues. It is taking care of ourselves
so we can contribute to others. It is learning to say "no" and learning that
it is more than okay, it is our life's mission to pursue our deepest
passions. For until we have created something of value that we are proud and
happy with in ourselves, we have nothing of value to give others. 

I have seen too many dedicated, well-meaning but empty people trying to
serve others. Instead they drain others with each contact, just as an empty
cup lowered into a cistern takes away some of its water.

Regrets? Certainly. Too many to count. Times when, in my reckless ignorance
I hurt someone. Times when I missed opportunities or didn't practice
appropriate selfishness and say "no", instead giving into another's demands
and  becoming a sink for their energies in the process, no matter how hard I
tried to make it otherwise. Sometimes, when half asleep in the morning those
thoughts come flooding back and when they do I open my eyes and look at the
sunlight and say, "Thank you for this day, this wonderful opportunity to
learn and do new and exciting things, to love the people in my life and to
love being alive." 

It's late afternoon now. It's been a wonderful day filled with activity. As
all days are, this day is far, far too short. I could easily use another 10
hours to do the things I want to do. Not things I "need" to do, but things I
*want* to do for my clients and for myself. I sense that if each day is too
short, life itself will be too short, no matter how many years I have left. 

If I ever find myself in the spot my friend Carol is in today, lying in
hospital in pain, and struggling for breath, I hope I am still able to greet
the day with enthusiasm and interest. And, if I'm not, well, I have no doubt
there's a valuable lesson in that as well. But those are possibilities, not
life. They are in a possible future, not in life today. Life is in this
moment, this keystroke. And it is good. Incredibly good. 

Ron D'Eau Claire

-----Original Message-----
From: grovenet-bounces at rdrop.com [mailto:grovenet-bounces at rdrop.com] On
Behalf Of Bob Malone
Sent: Monday, January 21, 2008 12:37 PM
To: grovenet at rdrop.com

Subject: [Grovenet] getting older

Only after reaching the age of 69 have I gained an under- standing of how
hard it is in our society to be a senior citizen.

   The "Golden Years" are more than we are ready for in
a lot of way's.  For instance,if you have your health and enough money set
aside,then they might in fact be the "Golden Years"

   God bless our seniors and all that they must go through.

   Signed,

   Bob,just another senior _______________________________________________
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