Archive for the ‘aging’ Category

Listen Within

November 4, 2025

In the season of Halloween with its strong theme of haunting – haunted houses, will o’the wisps, scary dreams, things that go bump in the night, I’ve become aware recently of a different sort of haunting – the way in which the emotional imprint of very old experiences can haunt one’s present, distorting and sometimes destroying present peace, satisfaction, well being. It may even instill a negative tone into current relationships.

I’m not referring to the sort of emotional turmoil that needs professional help from a qualified mental health counselor. Rather, I’m noticing a subtle tugging on emotional strings that results from misperceived identity, or misplaced attention. A current example for me is too easily feeling overlooked in the days surrounding my birthday because of a haunting recall of how my birthday was regularly ruined, year after year, in my childhood. Whatever had been promised as a treat would not materialize, no parties were ever allowed, and instead of pampered, I often became the scapegoat for something/someone else that angered my mother.

In the more than half century since, there have been any number of special events to mark various birthdays – either things I treated myself with, or that friends shared with me. Living on my own for many of those years, I learned to celebrate privately. It has come as a surprise, therefore, to find that now – in a relationship – I can be haunted by those childhood memories, and want assurance from my partner that this year, this birthday, will not be overlooked.

This particular haunting rose into awareness as I participated in a group reflection recently. I have met regularly, for over two years, with a small group of people on Zoom, most of them drawn to Quaker silent worship from a variety of backgrounds. We share our reflections on a query related to a reading. Most recently, we had all read an essay about the different ways that people center themselves, still the mind, enter prayer, or otherwise engage in the activity they consider as the way to connect with the spiritual self. The query was worded:

How do you recognize an inner prompting as coming from your spiritual center, however you identify or name that place of wisdom?

It was enlightening to hear what different people connected with in the article, and to recognize that in a way we had each read a different essay. What spoke to one had not been noticed by another. One was comfortable with the author’s implication that God, the Divine, Spirit, Eternal Love – so many different terms – is external to the author and to be sought outside oneself. Another participant described her spiritual practice as connecting with the Spirit Within. Both stated that they “just knew” because of its “ring of Truth” that an insight arose from spirit, not the mind or emotions.

I also seek inwardly for the guiding spirit, the Sound, my Eternal Teacher to make me aware of whatever it is I need to know in the moment. Most recently the birthday-related haunting served as a nudge, a prompting from within, to finally, permanently stop looking outward for validation and acknowledgment.

Now I face a different challenge – to discern why it is that subtle habits one knows need to be broken remain so hard to shed? My Teacher refers to them as golden chains, as they often seem to be positives, like concern for hearing the opinions of others, listening, and being a “good friend”. It is critical to recognize that the actions themselves are not binding. The enchainment comes from needing to know that one is appreciated for doing them.

It helps that I remind myself daily of an instruction from my Grandpa, given more than 70 years ago, that the guide to follow is that I “do right because it is the right thing to do.” Not for recognition, not for honor, not for any external reason – simply because I know that I am doing what I should when I listen inwardly and follow the Inner Voice that has never failed to guide me well. The doing becomes its own reward.

Restoration

October 1, 2025

To write a blog post means to take time for myself – ignoring the barking dog outside my windows who is either scaring off deer, or defending her territory from marauding neighbor dogs. Ignoring the addictive habit of turning on the news to learn what latest atrocity is emanating from the once lovely city where I was born. Ignoring the phone that invites me to check in with the wants, needs or disregard of others in my immediate circle of family and friends.

Taking time for myself seems solidly set in opposition to all that we are persuaded, daily, it is our obligation to engage with. Don’t be selfish. Put the needs of others before your own. Be a good neighbor, friend, wife, mother.

Where are the exhortations to be good to oneself, without which one cannot sustain constant care for others?

And in particular, what part of self is it that needs attention it is not getting?

Surely not the ego, that so easily takes pride in how well (or poorly?) it cares for all those others it is exhorted to attend to.

The reflective individual who does, indeed, do a good job of other care remains too often in a quandary of self doubt – feeling unsatisfied, empty, even bereft despite their long list of good works and behavior. I see it all around me, have felt it myself.

Why is that so?

Most certainly, because the self that needs care isn’t getting it. Ego is not the self that needs care.

Spirit, Soul, Inner Self, “that of God in everyone” is the self that needs care, but too rarely gets it.

I see it all around me, and am guilty of this neglect myself.

Hearing the exhortation to practice what you preach, I wish to relearn the habit of regular posting that I achieved some years ago, when I was also working full time and meeting other commitments. Somehow retirement, which should have given me more time, did the opposite. Partly due to a simultaneous health challenge to my energy. Partly due to living through Covid, two successive wildfires that did severe damage to my home, and a major change in my family situation. But mostly due to neglect of Self care. To post I must make time for inner reflection, which is one form of Self care. I must assure that I do my daily contemplation exercise, and keep my attention focused on the inner voice that guides me wisely. I have not totally lost those habits, but I have allowed myself to become distracted, overwhelmed.

No more.

Be-ing or Lazy?

March 17, 2025

How many times in the past several months have I said to myself that “today I will write another blog post” only to see the day pass with me occupied with all the other activities that can consume our daily lives, especially those of us who are older, and/or having to manage health issues and limited energy. Today is really no different, except that I seem to have finally come to the end of my laziness, and decided to start writing without having first selected a topic. Because choosing a topic was one of the many “excuses” I had to cover what I have resisted identifying by its proper title, laziness. I mean, how could I call myself lazy when I am as active as I have been with running a home, caring for animals, supporting friends who are dealing with illness, family member deaths, troublesome children, plus responding with resistance as best I can to the trashing of America’s institutions and its standing in the world, plus preparing for major changes in my daily life at home? All while my body is controlled by the random whims of an autoimmune disorder that reacts with increased pain and decreased energy whenever there are even minor shifts in weather.

I suspect the answer lies in some aspect of self image, or how I define my sense of self. I had no trouble keeping up regular posts throughout my last, time demanding period of employment when I was also running a household and doing all the activities listed above. When I retired, in 2020 at the age of 76, I thought I would be a more prolific writer with so much newly freed time. Instead, my posting declined until it virtually stopped. Yes, I became ill with the autoimmune disorder that took much of my energy and required almost two years to be diagnosed so that I could begin what has proven to be a moderately effective treatment regimen. Yes, the changes that Covid wrought throughout our society affected me as well. And yes, retirement brought about a greater change in my sense of self than I anticipated, given that I was fully aware of how this transition impacts people.

What I think I did not anticipate, despite the warnings from my acupuncturist, was the extent to which removing the stress and pressure I had lived with for most of my working life would collapse rather than free me. Running on adrenaline from stress, deadlines, meeting others’ expectations is what kept me going, Removing that pressure left me not just exhausted in body, but disoriented and adrift in mind and spirit. Adding in Covid-caused distancing and long days of isolation pushed me further into “the blahs” which in turn morphed into an ambiguity as to who I am without a persistent drive to do, and to be recognized as a do-er.

A dear friend whose own physical challenges forced him into an earlier retirement than he had planned described the challenge I faced as the do-be-do-be-do of the music he loved. He and I both noted that we needed to run counter to the end of that theme, as we were both striving to settle comfortably into self definition as be-ing rather than do-ing.

I suspect that my mind conflated “being” with laziness – if I wasn’t “doing,” I was lazy. Gardening, poultry care, house chores were readily available ways of doing that could convince me I was not lazy.

Writing, on the other hand, is part of my being-ness, part of my sense of self, of the spirit centered entity that I have known all my life but have only lately been given the opportunity and circumstances to fully develop.

Two quite different gifts from friends have now, I hope, pushed me out of the need to self-define by doing, into the actual freedom I expected retirement to give me. The first was a request from a college classmate to write a blurb for the cover of a book she translated that will soon be published. I read the manuscript, offered a few editorial comments, and quite enjoyed the challenge of condensing my appreciation into a short paragraph for the blurb. That activity resurrected my awareness of the pleasure I take in language fluency and writing. The second was the gift of All In For Love, the first of a trilogy of books by Leslie S. King, given to me after I had posted an online appreciation of her third volume, I Am Love. Leslie’s poems and short essays detail her spiritual journey and express the essence of Be-ing that she, like I, have been working our way towards. Her courage and lucidity in putting that challenge into words and sending them out into the world have been a great inspiration for me.

So what do I conclude? Probably that I was not being lazy, but rather that I was not yet ready to accept a total change in my sense of identity, just as I had not felt ready to take on a rather radical change in my outer living circumstances that will now most probably manifest by mid-May. It is neither positive nor negative – just majorly different. If nothing else, it will give me plenty to write about. I hope you will care to follow along as this familiar but also new me expresses itself.

Is it Part of Getting Older?

July 28, 2024

Is it part of getting older (old? Golden Ager?) that I am increasingly impatient with so many things? Bad – i.e. nonexistent – customer service. Unexplained, endless delays in receiving what has been promised, bought, and paid for. Packaging that is not only child proof but impervious even to sharp scissors. “New and improved” whatever that is perhaps new, but is the exact opposite of improved. Artificially created obsolescence forcing purchase of new equipment when the perfectly good items can’t be updated any longer because the tech company wants yet more excessive profit. I could go on, but it is undoubtedly a waste of time to do so.

And that most likely is the underlying reason for my impatience – a sense of time running out, that I don’t want wasted on stupidly aggravating nonsense. 

My group of friends who get together weekly for what we call Stitching (to encompass sewing, knitting, crochet and whatever else anyone chooses, including idle hands) are all “mature” women. We all express frustration with time wasters though none of us have, so far, identified what I am considering now, that the very fact of being older and aware that the time remaining in our lives is far less than that already spent, causes much of the impatience. If I have only a limited amount of time left in life I don’t want to waste it on trash.

Perhaps I have also identified the source of the stereotype of old people as grumpy?

Yes, it’s true none of us knows, at any age, how long we have yet to live. But short of a terminal diagnosis, or existence in a war zone that makes one’s end of life salient, not many of us abandon the unconscious conviction of near immortality that is the framework of daily life. Reaching retirement, at whatever age above midlife that turning point occurs, tends to trigger an assessment of achievements and a setting of new goals, but does not automatically shift us (or at least it did not do so for me) into a more conscious sense of time as a precious commodity not to be squandered. It was not until, just recently, I noticed the extent to which I had become impatient that, seeking reasons, I came to understand this as a common quality of older folks arising from an underlying awareness that one’s days (hours, minutes?) are indeed numbered. 

I think a somewhat similar shift in perspective occurs in what has been termed midlife crisis, the not uncommon mental turmoil that accompanies the first indications of flagging energy and rising uncertainty as to where one is on life’s path. Changing careers, altering goals, returning to school, finding new interests to fill an “emptied nest” are activities frequently accompanied by an awareness of time’s passage, bringing also an increased sense of vulnerability. 

What differentiates this midlife reassessment from the late-in-life one seems to me to be a changed sense of time. In midlife, we focus on how much we still want to achieve in the (perceived as still long) amount of time we believe is left to us. By later age, we instead are aware that we have outlived many of our peers. The unknown amount of time left to us becomes precious, not to be squandered. People, circumstances, attitudes that waste time become highly expendable, and highly aggravating when they cannot be circumvented.

In order not to throw away my remaining time being angry or feeling helpless, I have sought a viewpoint to free me from this constraint, and found it in the concept of eliminating my remaining karmic debt, thus becoming able to exit this life (however soon that exit occurs) without ties that force me to return for another incarnation. One need not accept the concept of reincarnation to benefit from this form of detachment. The act of unhooking from frustration, putting down the impenetrable package, temporarily setting aside the uncooperative software – the fact of distancing oneself in order to come back to the task in a calmer state seems to allow it to flow more smoothly.

Perhaps I am merely recognizing an application of the refrain “to every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven?” 

If so, is it time – finally – for me to be able to get the icing out of its impervious package so I can finish the cake I want to take to Stitching?


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