Elders are supposed to be fonts of wisdom, but I have a hard time discerning mine. Yes, I have lots of experiences from my earlier life. But none of them prepared me for my later years. None of them led to what I would call wisdom.
When younger, I imagined I
was prepared for my elder years. I practiced yoga and was nimble and thought this would carry over and I suppose it has. I am still nimble. I do feel blessed to be able to walk 2 miles every few days. Although there are yoga classes around I no longer participate. Yoga classes were like my church, before. Now I practice a few days a week alone in my den.
For years, I ate healthy foods. My diet (meaning the foods I eat, not a weight loss program) has gone downhill since moving up North. Some meat has been added. Organic chicken. No fish as the fish you can buy up here does not compare to the fish I bought on Cape Cod for 30 years. It is often a struggle for me to think of meals, write out lists, shop, bring it all home.Then cook it. I throw out a lot of food. I need to gain weight they say. Eating is a problem.
They encourage elders to stay in touch socially. I knew how to find friends and have fun on Cape Cod and so I imagined that part of growing old would be fine. But up here I am lost. This is not my landscape so to speak. The one friend I see twice a year is not a new friend. We met 40 years ago before I even moved to Cape Cod. Very hard to meet people not to mention see them a second or third time. I am not an up-country woman. I say the wrong things. Do the wrong things. I am not overtly political. And I am afraid to go out and try new things the way I used to do.
I had many, many interests and talents I put to use in my earlier years, so I though I'd never just sit in a chair and watch streamings. I'd be engaged, busy with bookbinding, painting, writing, meditation, spiritual studies. Well who knows what all but I was sure I'd be fine in that category when old. Maybe I am depressed or something, but the fire within to do such things has gone out. It flares up once in awhile but then....fades.
All this goes to say that no matter what my younger self thought about being older, those were just thoughts. It's different to actually be here. Yes, I know there are 80 year olds who jump out of airplanes and can twist themselves into difficult yoga positions. But what about the rest of us. Who speaks for us?
Of course, all this is okay. There is no requirement that I be other than I am. It's okay for me to be an old grandma rocking in a rocking chair knitting except that I have no grandchildren and cant knit.
I dont know any answers. Am just pondering. Thanks for listening. Happy Summer everyone!
the owl planter was my grandmother's
