FIRST BLOG
“Life was not meant to be a journey to the grave in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid broad sided, thoroughly used up, totally worn out and loudly proclaiming, WOW…what a ride.” Hunter S. Thompson,
(Note 128): It takes a lot of courage to tell others what you think and how you feel at any age. Believe me, I know. I have been a mental health counselor for more than 25 years, and now I want to be on the other side as the client. I don’t think most counselors want to share their personal lives, not only in sessions with their clients, but outside the profession. We don’t want to admit we are as screwed up as everyone else. In fact, words like “clinician, therapist” only perpetuates the stereotypes, myths and confusion about what a lot of people believe is some mysterious process that goes on between two people or a group.
My deepest insecurities that still haunt me today are associated with my vulnerability to share who I genuinely am at age 72. My sharing can be my greatest strength at this time in my life, possibly giving me my deepest sense of freedom and purpose. I don’t want to be rejected by my family or friends for sharing what goes on beneath the exterior “normal,” well-functioning, successful person they see every day. But I am part of a deeper cause to help myself and others. I must feel at peace for listening to my true voice, clear from my own and others’ expectations that have stifled that voice over the years.
My name is David. I’m a senior. I say that as if I were an alcoholic going to an AA meeting. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I’m trying to make a point. Part of me really hates getting older and I have many issues and insecurities about aging. It’s like I’m recovering from being young, trying to let go of most of what I had associated with being young, and am now forced to try to embrace my later years. I once heard an older adult say, “I wish I could have all the knowledge I have now, but in the body of a 20-year-old.”
I really DO hate the word “senior.” It denotes less than the highest level of achievement or happiness. To me, it sounds like I only finished high school, never achieved higher levels of education or had valuable growth-promoting experiences, ones where I have gained a wealth of meaningful knowledge and life skills worthy of being called “graduate.” I should be called “graduate,” not “senior.” “Graduate” usually is associated with academia or receiving a diploma, but it also means moving from one stage to the next. I’m still moving, and have graduated from many stages in my life. So I’m a graduate of life, a graduate of hard knocks. Most older adults I know would say high school was more like kindergarten compared to what they gained during later years. After all, aging creates resilience and wisdom.
Mr. Thompson’s above quote captures a lot of what I want to feel as I approach the final chapter of my life. My hope is that as I skid into the unknown nebulous, my life will be filled with wonderful adventures, celebrations, appreciations, lessons I have learned, and people I have loved.
Have you seen the movie “My Name is Nobody,” with Henry Fonda and Terrance Hill? It’s a spaghetti western about a famous gunslinger, Jack Beaugard (Fonda), who is about to retire. Another gunslinger, Nobody (Hill), is hired to kill Fonda. Hill decides to set Jack up instead so that Jack can go out in blazing glory. The set-up is that Jack will single-handedly kill 150 members of the Wild Bunch. Now, the Wild Bunch is a notorious band of thieves, murderers, and sundry criminals who control the West. In the end, Jack successfully kills all 150 and retires as the most famous gunslinger to ever live.
Someday, I want to go out in a blaze of glory, too. I realize that blazing glory is an extreme figure of speech, but I would like to inspire myself, to take risks I have never taken, to be open to unplanned opportunities, and invite other older adults to follow my lead.
Do others around me believe I can go out in blazing glory? Do I believe it myself? I’m beginning to feel very invisible and more like a nobody. Do I have some untapped potential in me that makes blazing glory even possible? I don’t want my final years to be a stopping point, a reward for achieving a final goal or destination, but a starting point, an evolving process and continuation of deeper personal growth and connection. During my final years, I want to feel like a kid in a candy store.
Will my blaze of glory come out of the golden years or the asphalt years (feeling dark and run over)? Do I have one foot in the grave and one on unfinished business? Am I just a superficial whiner trying to get some attention? Am I an aging Pollyanna? These are some of my thoughts on self-discovery, which began when I turned 64. That’s really when I began feeling fat, dumb and ugly.
As a therapist for decades (with more than ten thousand sessions), I have helped my clients better understand themselves while guiding them to make positive changes in their lives. Now it’s my turn to “treat” myself by using all the tools I have learned along the way. I have made many notes on my process over the last few years (starting at age 64), what I call “Pogo stick notes,” notes about trying to keep my balance as I ride the ups and downs of my life, and I often ask myself, “How can I truly help others if I can’t help myself.”
I sincerely hope you, especially fellow baby boomers, can benefit from my life experiment. I call it an experiment because getting through life is often about creating many hypotheses with trial and errors. My hope is that you will see me as a mirror for your own process. I volunteer myself to the greater good. My time, like yours, is running out. I have to get this right. There is a gnawing feeling that surges up in my stomach: “I need more time. I want to do more. I want to be more than who I am.”
Research suggests that most older adults have a positive attitude and are adjusting OK to aging. While I believe that this is true for the most part, I also think there are many challenges to suggest this period in our lives is not so rosy, that if we dig deeper, there is much tension and uncertainty lying beneath the surface. I heard one older adult sum it up by saying, “It’s all about your attitude.”
So why do I call my blog Wrinkled, Worried and Wise? My quick answer is that, obviously, I’m turning into a wrinkled raisin, am worried or at least significantly concerned about what lies ahead, but also recognize my resilience, the accumulated wisdom gained from life’s hard knocks. This leaves me feeling positive, blessed and so grateful for my life.
What makes my blog so different from others is that I’m just an average guy, disclosing my personal feelings and thoughts about getting older. Unlike so many other bloggers who interview famous people or researchers, I plan to interview those not in the limelight as they go through the aging process themselves. Each week I plan to offer questions or exercises that I have created for myself to process and understand my thoughts and feelings about growing older, as well as what I have learned from therapy and have been applying in my own life. For now, I just want you to get to know me first.
I started out talking about it taking courage to express myself. Well now, I’m starting to do it. I think we all want to connect at the deepest possible level. I want you to feel my yearning, almost my craving, for a deeper level of expression, connection and purpose. I have to believe that what I’m saying resonates with you, that you want this, too.
EXERCISE
What would your going out in blazing glory look like?
When did you start feeling that time is running out? When did you stop being honest with yourself about what changes you need to make for a greater sense of freedom, peace and happiness? What courage can you muster to face what is still unfinished or unrealized (physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually)? What is holding you back?
So until next time, don’t act your age!