Category Archives: Aging

On Dying Luminously

Mabon                                                                              New Moon of the First Snow

Friend Tom Crane wrote this morning:  “Third phase (or whatever the hell it is we are in) is stereotyped as winding down, dealing with fewer issues (because they have all been dealt with already) and generally a slowing down.  Now that we are all really fully into whatever this is it seems to me there is a good bit of the opposite of that energy.  We are dealing with really significant stuff (body and health related, for instance) that never came to us when we were younger and more vital.  There is more change per square minute that we have ever seen before in spite of the stability of key relationships and situations.  And yet it is curious that we seem to be demonstrating greater capability than ever before as we navigate all this with the experience and wisdom(?) gained through decades of experimentation with who we are.”

The third phase notion is my attempt to decouple this period of life from the concept of retirement, an idea that this period of life defines itself as not-doing something. Winding down, dealing with fewer issues, slowing down featured prominently in the finish line model of retirement. We were done with the workaday world, no more 9-5. No longer the buzzing, blooming world of business with its implacable demands. Now we could kick back, put our feet up, pop a PBR and watch football without guilt. Or go fishing. Or golfing. Or quilt. Or spend more time with the grandkids.

And, when work finished up followed by four or five years of leisure, then disability or death, that model, retirement, the time of not-working, probably made sense. That is, it described life post-work for the bulk of retirees.

Lengthening lifespans have caused not-working to become inadequate for understanding life after the second phase of family building and career. In fact for some who enter the third phase they may not have given up their career, though family building is likely behind them. Still, even those still active in work often now see work as much less central, much less definitive for their identity.

If you agree to any degree with this: “I believe that the true norm of the third phase is to wander, to become like a planet to your Self, pulled by the gravitational attractions of its values and its directions. Now is the time, if you have not availed yourself of it earlier, to listen to the voices of your own heart, your own dreams, your own ancientrail.”, then, this time, call it the third phase or aging (though I’ve always found this an odd term since by definition we begin aging at birth) or old age, is qualitatively different from what has gone before.

It no longer focuses on getting somewhere, accomplishing something (though we may get somewhere and things may well be accomplished), but on the journey of your uniqueness. In this way we can arrive at the paradox, the apparent contradiction that Tom identifies: “…there is a good bit of the opposite of that energy.  We are dealing with really significant stuff (body and health related, for instance) that never came to us when we were younger and more vital…There is more change per square minute that we have ever seen before in spite of the stability of key relationships and situations.”

Once we have made or not made our family, stumbled on or victoriously walked the path of work/career, then the shift can be made to a time of self-understanding, self-expression. Perhaps the second phase could be characterized as a “we” phase and the third the “I” phase, in this sense the third phase and the first have much in common. In none of the phases do we exist solely in a we mode or solely in an I mode. I refer to a matter of emphasis, one dictated not so much by personal desire or even cultural norms, but by matters of biology.

How so? In the first phase we are young, inexperienced, naive to the world. As we grow and our bodies change, the emphasis is necessarily on personal learning: socialization, athleticism, school curriculum or skill set development. At some point in our twenties, early or late depending on the amount of schooling undertaken, the idea of family begins to take hold for most of us. This reflects a maturation of the body and an acquiescence to the species imperative for propagation. Work and/or career follows from the learning of the first phase and becomes, again for most of us, intricately entwined with family.

We are not eternal though. The body begins a decline, at first gradual, then more pronounced. At some point the children are launched, either into the workforce or into higher education then the workforce, and our own work/career reaches a peak. Sometime after we begin to contemplate a time when neither work nor family building will be central to our lives. Yes, family will still be important, probably, and even work might continue in some fashion, but neither will be at the center of our lives anymore.

What will be at the center? Individuation. The final process of personal development. Does this mean a collapse of the we and an ascendance of the I? Not at all. Your individuation may well carry you more deeply into the world. Or, it may not. It may carry you into the study, the sewing room, the world of rocks and minerals, even the development of a brand new way of human interaction. Wherever it carries you, if you are true to the defining character of the third phase, that it ends in death, you will become more of who you really are. Because, you see, it is, finally, only you that dies.

So, then, the paradox. When we are at our most authentic, are most keen to explore and liberate our gifts, the body is well into its senescence. So, the signals of mortality come fast and often: cancer, arthritis, glaucoma, weakening, imbalance at the same time the Self, the integration of body/mind, is at its most flourishing.

Though it doesn’t have to make sense, since this is a biological process and has its own timing, it does make sense to me that our most fully evolved person can be the one who faces the physical challenges of aging. By now, hopefully, we have learned of our finitude and understand biological deterioration. What a gift it is to see our frailties for what they are, accidents of our biology, and not determinative of our Self, its worth. In this way our best Self confronts the dangers and agonies that would have terrified, perhaps frozen, our younger Selves, and sees in them not the hand of a cruel fate, but the working out of a truth known since birth. We are mortal.

But, we can die as the flaming aspen does, a brilliant luminosity apparent just before the winter sets in.

Surgery. Done Right.

Mabon                                                                        Elk Rut Moon

The waning crescent Elk Rut moon stood off in the east this morning with Jupiter just above. Beautiful.

Kate had her thumb surgery and platelet injection, left and right respectively. The surgery went well according to the surgeon Janet Leo. Kate’s resting and preparing for her first night post-op. I’m headed to the grocery store to pick up pain meds and few supplies for the weekend.

Uh-oh. Gotta close the windows.

Mabon                                                                     Elk Rut Moon

Started physical therapy for my arthritis, scoliosis, muscle tightness on Thursday. Dana, my therapist, is a very sharp woman, maybe early 40’s. She has me tucking my chin into my chest, folding my shoulder blades up, then down and paying attention to the tilt of my head in a mirror. The muscle relaxant I’ve been given is peculiar. It has a sedative effect and knocks me out when I take it. But, each night at 1:15-1:19, it wears off and I wake up. It’s half life goes on a bit longer so I get back to sleep pretty well.

Tonight though, it’s 2:00 a.m. right now, I woke up at 1:15 and noticed a flash of light. Then some thunder. Then the sound of rain drops. Ooops. I’d forgotten to shut the windows in the loft. No. I shut them. No. I didn’t. It’ll be ok. It won’t rain much. You don’t know that. Oh, alright. So up I came. Sure enough the windows were open. Not raining much, but hard to predict.

Kate and I went into Conifer last night for appetizers and every restaurant we tried had 25-30 minute wait times. Unusual. Tourists out for something. People drive away from their homes, even come to stay for a few days, to get to the place where Kate and I live. Sorta neat. Except when the restaurant wait times are 25-30 minutes. We turned around, drove past our house and on down Black Mountain Drive to Brook Forest Inn. Good choice. This old lodge is between Evergreen and Conifer, just like we are, out of the way for tourist traffic unless you’re staying there.

And, the food is good. It’s the local joint closest to our house. We’re semi-regulars there now and are beginning to get to know people. We may go over there on Sunday for the Vikings-Broncos game. Cutting cable means no local channels, so no football.

 

Can I Hear You Now?

Mabon                                                                                   Elk Rut Moon

More testing of the new hearing aid. We went out last night to Brook Forest Inn, the closest eating place to our house, about 2 miles toward Evergreen on Black Mountain Drive. TV’s were on and people chattered in the background. Doors opened and closed. After prompting by Kate I sat with my left ear to her and my right (good) ear to the noise.

She asked me how I was doing. I said, “Well, you can probably tell better than I can.” She had not had to repeat herself, even sitting on my left, to my deaf ear.

The technology, whatever it is, is pretty amazing. It seems to fade into the background, just doing its job helping me hear. OK. I just looked up the noise filtering tech and my eyes crossed. Whatever it is, it works pretty well in the environments where I’ve tried it so far.

A minor revelation, along the lines of seeing stars clearly with new glasses, is the clacking of my computer keyboard and the mouse. Too, eating is particularly noisy. All that chewing sound that comes with vegetables. Who knew? Well, everybody but me, apparently. The last and oddest revelation is the different version of my voice. A gravely, low pitched sound comes to me when I start talking. Weird.

I have not yet tried the new tech on the grandkids. Their voices are very difficult for me to hear and I’m hoping that will improve.

Final thought. Many people, when considering the question, say they would be lost without their sight. Can’t imagine it. But, those of us with hearing loss, especially profound deafness as I have in my left ear, know that hearing is the relationship sense. It’s how feelings, wishes, desires, the subtle cues of how we’re getting along with others transit from one singularity to another. Imagine life without being able to hear I love you. Imagine being unable to hold a nuanced conversation about some matter of intimate importance. Or, a nuanced conversation of any sort.

Even with sign language, in which a nuanced conversation  is possible, the number of people with whom you can hold one is severely limited. Not many people know sign.

I can’t imagine life without sight either, but I know that life without sound would be devastating.

 

Quadfecta

Mabon                                                                       Elk Rut Moon

September has seen me accomplish a rare third phase quadfecta. First I drove to Indiana for my 50th high school reunion. After my return I had three appointments: internist, audiologist and urologist. The internist ordered x-rays and gave me my first ever diagnosis of arthritis. The audiologist told me what I already knew, deaf in the left ear and not hearing well out of the right. The urologist told me I was nominally cancer free.

This morning I picked up and am now wearing my new hearing aid. That’s right. Aid. Just one. So far my voice sounds gravely and I’m hearing the computer keyboard clack. No real revelations so far.

So, in less than three weeks cancer vanquished, hearing aid, arthritis and my 50th high school reunion. That’s roaring around the corner into the third phase, pedal to the metal.

Self-ish

Mabon                                                                     Elk Rut Moon

 

I’ve had false dawns on this recent journey, thinking the time was right to get back to writing, to Latin, to dreaming, to acting. A flywheel somewhere in my psyche has pulled me back into the day-to-day, letting the sweep of things carry me along like a piece of driftwood on the tide. I pushed against it a couple of times, trying to will myself into a more productive place. I’ve failed.

Now I’m waiting, trying to flow with the direction of my psyche, following the ancientrail of change without attempting to bend it to my own wishes. It’s hard. Perhaps this is the third phase way, a more Taoist one, one where the day-to-day and our Self’s work can merge, then diverge.

There is no clock. No agenda set by others. (other than doctors) No career mountain to climb. No financial aspirations. Those of us in the third phase and out of the work life can be more open to the currents of our inner life. We do not have to cut and shape our day to meet the demands of second phase goals.

Not all who wander are lost. This Tolkien phrase unintentionally captures the problem. If you wander, the second phase life assumes you are lost. Though there are no second phase norms by which to judge your direction in the third phase, no child raising (hopefully), no boss or vocational directives, no 401k to plump up, our long affiliation with these norms often carries them over into the third phase anyway. It is in this sense that wandering in the third phase can make us seem and feel lost.

Yet I believe that the true norm of the third phase is to wander, to become like a planet to your Self, pulled by the gravitational attractions of its values and its directions. Now is the time, if you have not availed yourself of it earlier, to listen to the voices of your own heart, your own dreams, your own ancientrail. You may think or feel that, because second phase norms require us to chop and curtail our own desires to fit the needs of institutions, workplaces, family that this is selfish.

I say yes, it is. Just so. Self-ish. Always the world would have been better off if you had let your own voices guide you. Why? Because you are the only you this universe will ever see and to shortcut your development for what others want is to deny the universe your particular gifts. Now is the chance to give expression to that you hidden by the often crushing world of family and career. Now is the time to become the person the universe needs. You.

 

Books and Docs

Lughnasa                                                        Elk Rut Moon

Have begun to shelve books. Will discover whether the crude tool of measuring book stacks has produced enough shelving.

A place to work, a place to be the person you want to and can be. Necessary. Kate’s sewing studio. Jon’s ski manufacturing space. The whole backyard for the dogs. And this place, this loft, for me.

Over the course of this week I’ll fill all the empty shelves, then begin to unload all the art now stored in plastic bins. Our art, up here, and in the house, is still packed away. The house will not feel like it’s ours until the art is hung.

We have yet more medical tasks this week, too. The crown that chipped when put on will be replaced today. Kate and I have separate appointments at Arapahoe Internal Medicine. Me for the elbow, shoulder pain and her for elevated potassium. On Friday is the last scheduled appointment following up on my surgery. The super sensitive PSA test for which I had the blood drawn last Tuesday will be done. Looking for a low number. If it is low, it suggest that none of the cancer cells escaped into the rest of the body.

We want to get past this constant medicalization of our lives, but…

 

A Come to My Senses Day

Lughnasa                                                              Elk Rut Moon

Into the booth yesterday, a come to my senses day. Brandi, a bright and cheerful doctor of audiology (a new degree to me), found significant hearing loss in the middle and high pitches. That was my right ear. She tested the left ear, as all audiologists feel obligated to do. The little boxes on the report which record results at the various frequencies all had a downward arrow from the left corner. That downward arrow connotes no response. I did hear the 115 decibel sound. Through bone conduction in my right ear.

So, a hearing aid. Many of you who read this made this decision long ago. But, I only need one! That cuts the cost in half. A sort of good thing.

An hour later I was over at Corneal Consultants playing space invaders. The ophthalmologists (boy is that a hard word to spell) insist on calling it a visual field test. It uses little points of light (think G. Bush I) to evaulate peripheral vision. Aced it. Pressures good, too. Got that glaucoma under control for now.

As long as I’m on this medical note, I’m also experiencing the return of a shoulder/elbow problem I had three or four years ago. A lot of pain, most right now focused on the elbow and the upper arm of my left arm. The shoulder has less pain this time around. I got rid of it with P.T. last time, choosing not to have an MRI to diagnose it. This time I’m going to find out what it is.

 

Pot-roast and vegetables

Lughnasa                                                                        Recovery Moon

IMAG0833Buddy Tom Crane’s work takes him across the country, making him a favorite of airlines and the Marriot Hotel Corporation. In Denver for some work he came up to Shadow Mountain for supper last night. Kate slow-cooked a pot roast* and vegetables and made a raspberry pie from our still substantial cache of Andover raspberries.

We spoke of those kind of things third phasers often do: hearing aids, grandchildren, mutual friends, recent surgery, thoughts on who delivers care when no family is around. Of course, the content is less important the context, the being together, being seen and being heard. The importance of this last is underlined by Tom’s mother who at 98 has outlived all her friends. She’s become reclusive over the past few years. Friendship is not trivial, it’s a life-sustaining need and when it begins to disappear it matters.

 

*You can take the couple out of the Midwest, but…

Third Phase Summary

Summer                                                            Recovery Moon

The third phase. First phase: childhood/education through at least high school, maybe undergraduate college. Second Phase: career/family formation. Third phase: Post career with adult children. This last phase has become an extended and to some extent new part of normal life. In the recent past the third phase was often short, interrupted by illness and often marred by poverty and ended not long after it began, especially for men.

Advances in medical science, improved social security and medicare and the maturation of the baby boom generation have combined to push the third phase into greater and greater prominence. We live longer, with better health and improved economic conditions. Too, the large population bulge of the baby boom is forcing society to see the third phase. In the past it may have been possible to consign the aging third phaser to the margins of society, but with the huge numbers of those born between 1946 and 1964 third phase citizens will be a larger and larger percentage of the population.

This is exciting. It allows our culture as a whole to reconsider the third phase and its implications for both individuals and society. Since the third phase is post career/work and usually represented by a couple with no children at home, it places an inflection point on the question of individual worth. The normal external markers affecting self-worth are employment and children. Both of these are in the past for most third phasers. Or, at least the time when they dominated an individual’s life is in the past.

Though it may be frightening to some this means that we each get the opportunity to reshape our lives, often around activities more closely aligned to our own interests. Kate, for example, always a hand-worker and seamstress, now focuses on quilting. I was able, earlier than most third-phasers, to focus on writing, political work and the arts, interests which sustain me now in my late 60’s. Family is still important, of course, with grand children and the lives of adult children, but those interactions happen occasionally rather than daily. This allows a pleasant mix of intimate, family contact while ensuring enough time for independent activities.

The third phase continues to fascinate me as I see friends headed into it and experience it myself with Kate. Friendships matter even more, with the hard work of friendship done while family and career dominated, and become increasingly precious as those factors reduce in importance. In my case the Woolly Mammoths and the docent corps continue to enrich the third phase.