By Mark Harvey
Sometimes, when I have nothing else productive to do, I actually think about things I say. Apparently, this is one of those times.
One of the things I’ve said, on more than one occasion, is: “Most of us don’t really want to live forever.”
I think that’s true, because most of us immediately envision an endless trudge through endless time losing love and loved ones, and having to start all over again. Putting up with infinite, adolescent BS as we watch each generation having to learn the same things over and over and over. And having to learn how to use the latest, nifty gadget that will do things we didn’t even know we needed to do — or wanted to do.
Still, if asked whether we’re looking forward to dying, most of us would reply with a resounding “NO!” (or something more colorful). No, most of us would prefer not to be dead; so if we don’t want to live forever and we don’t want to be dead, what do we want?
Apparently, we want something in-between — and, happily, the universe has provided many of us with a reasonable alternative: aging.
Well, think about it: We get to get older (occasionally paired with “growing up”) and experience new things and new insights and new points of view and new (dare I say it?) thrills, without the soul-crushing coma associated with infinite boredom.
Oh, sure, most of us can identify some magical time in our lives — some magic age — that we remember as particularly wonderful, but would we really want to do it over and over and over? I suspect not.
Still, that doesn’t mean we’d prefer to be dead, so … right! Aging!
So why do we act like we hate it?
Why, as a society, do we talk and act as though “aging” were a thing to be feared, despised and avoided at all costs? Why are we desperate to avoid the very thing most of us want?
Is it because we’ve been taught that it’s bad? Aging isn’t a thing; it’s a process. Still, we seem to have an attitude about it: We don’t want to be “that.” Other people are “that”; I’m “something else.” We call it ageism: discrimination based on age. Based on assumptions that older people are less competent, less vigorous, less adventurous, less clever, less attractive, less innovative, less — like me?
If we’re raised with that kind of myth-based bias, we believe it ourselves. We don’t even like ourselves, because “we” are “them,” and we certainly don’t want to be “them,” so … we do all kinds of things to avoid being what (and who) we clearly are. We do all kinds of things to avoid becoming exactly what we hoped to become.
My head hurts.
Consider this: Real, honest-to-God research by people who actually know what they’re doing shows that people 50 and older who have a better concept of aging are likely to live an average of 7.5 years longer than folks who think aging is the pits. Further, those of us who think aging is OK are more likely to have better memory and better balance. (Maybe that’s because we’re not ashamed to hold our heads up? I don’t know — I made that part up. But the research is true.)
Another thing I’ve said (and some people have gotten tired of hearing) is: “Aging is not an affliction, it’s an achievement.” I think that’s true, and not just because I’ll be less likely to fall over due to lousy balance.
Look at what we’ve done, what we’ve seen, heard and felt, what we’ve learned. Many of us are just beginning to figure out what we don’t know — and, I suppose, what we wish we’d known.
We’re still here. There’s still time. And there’s still hope.
Not childish dreams and fantasies and imaginings: hope. Every day: hope.
So, why do we act like and talk like we dislike “aging”? It’s the gift we said we wanted, and we got it.
Thank you!
What was that piece of staggering stupidity we grew up with? “Never trust anyone over 30.” Is that what this is about? Really? The children of Woodstock stuck in an endless time-loop of too much rain and too few porta-potties? Is that what we all came here for?
I think not.
I think it’s about growth. Learning. Maturity. Love. And acceptance, not resignation.
Hoping to be more. Hoping to do better. Hoping to be the best “me” I can be — and I can’t do that if I’m busy avoiding being who I am, simply because I’m not 25.
I don’t want to be 25.
I want to be Mark.
Mark Harvey is the director of information and assistance for the Olympic Area Agency on Aging. He can be reached by email at harvemb@dshs.wa.gov; by phone at 360-532-0520 in Aberdeen, 360-942-2177 in Raymond, or 360-642-3634; or through Facebook at Olympic Area Agency on Aging-Information & Assistance.
