Category Archives: Aging

Aging, Art and Culture, Music, Third Phase

Technology Is My Friend

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Beltane                                                                      Early Growth Moon

Repeat after me:  technology is our friend.  Again.  Technology is our friend.

A month or so ago I bought a 300 CD carousel player.  This dates me in so many ways.  In the first place to enter memos (we’ll talk about those in a moment) you can use a keyboard, but it’s not a usb connection rather it is the old male/female pin receptor.  Fortunately, in my ever increasing museum of used computing equipment I had one.  Score!

What that means is that I input a memo about each disk using the keyboard rather than the dial and point method necessary without it.  That would have found me tossing the discs in the thing.  Anyhow so I decide to put a memo for each disc because otherwise how could I know what it is?

Well, that means developing a system.   We have a faux Dewey Decimal CD storage piece that has 4 rows across and 6 down of small wooden boxes that hold anywhere from 12 to 15 or so CD’s.  So we named the rows A, B, C, and D.  That means that each CD has to have a box number, so A1 puts the CD case in the upper left hand corner box.  We’re keeping the cases for the liner notes.  But, wait, there’s more.  Each CD has to have its own number in the box so the first CD is A11 then the name of the CD in very short hand.

Another wrinkle develops with multiple sets of which we have many.  For example, we have a 25 CD set of the complete works of Chopin.   In this case, we’re now into the 3rd box, the number was for one disc, A316D24.  The D24 meaning D24 in the Chopin set.  In order to enter this data two buttons on the carousel player have to be punched, then the text entered, then saved.  300 times.  I’m up to 60 right now and have already begun chewing on my foot so I can escape the trap.

Now to the charming reality that this dates me.  First of all, who buys CD’s anymore?  I mean physical objects that store your music and take up space in your house?  What?  Second, you mean you have to manually enter the information about the music?  Why can’t the file just put it up like it does on my I-phone, I-pad, I-pod?  That’s way easier.  Not nearly so much work.  In fact, no work at all.

That’s the frictionless world most digital natives inhabit.  Their idea of a record collection weighs about 5 ounces and has ear buds.  If you want to listen to at home, you just drop it in a receptacle that links your device to your home speaker system.  Easy peasy.

Kate and I, however, inhabit the stubbornly physical recent past.  Which means we were born before this millennium for sure and far back in the 20th century, too.  This is probably the last time we will try to organize our music because if we decide to do it again, I’ll flee to the 20th century in my time machine.  I carry it right here on my belt.

Aging, GeekWorld, Third Phase

Third Phase: Robots

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Beltane                                                                                   Early Growth Moon

Frank and Me is an engaging movie with a quick plot twist at the end that caught me napping, but the intriguing question raised is Frank’s relationship with the robot his son gives him to care for him.

Like most technophiles robots have been on my mind for a long time. Forbidden Planet came out, for example, in 1959 when I was 12.  I read I Robot before that. At the time they seemed much more science fiction, probably only science fiction.  In fact, it is very difficult to convey today the gap between many of those things we saw as science fiction and any reality we ever expected to experience.  Space ships?  With humans aboard?  Moon landing?  Video phone calls?  Robots?  Come on.

As a child of that era and a science fiction oriented one at that, imagine my delight when we land roving robots on Mars.  Mars!  Or, a human made machine leaves the solar system.  The Oort Cloud!  Calling my brother in Saudi Arabia and my sister in Singapore, with moving pictures and both of them on the screen with me at the same time.  Get outta here.

When it comes to the question of how much care we can offer the elderly through robots, I’m jumping up and down.  Let me at’em.  I don’t want to plan robberies with one like Frank did, but I can easily imagine a relationship with a robot.

Some people, Frank Langella, lead actor in Frank and Me among them, think those kind of relationships should be with humans.  A recent Wired article suggested that a fuzzy robot sold now as a companion for Alzheimer’s patients may work too well.  People talk to it.  They bemoan the relationship people might have with the robot.

Why?  I mean, it’s not like we’re going to send people robots and then say, “Now, you have your robot.  Let’s not ever hear from you again.”  No, the robots will be part of a care-giving strategy.  Perhaps they’ll do household tasks and some particular care-giving like medication administration.  Perhaps they’ll be dialogical, with a capacity for learning and different accents.

We pay home health care aides around $20,000 a year.  And there are fewer and fewer signing up for the jobs.  It’s not hard to see why.  This trend has accelerated just as the number of elders in our culture will increase enormously.  I’m glad the Minnesota legislature voted to let child care workers and home health care workers organize.  If they can get better pay, benefits and training, we’ll have more people wanting the work.

But my sense is that even if that sort of improvement changes their lot somewhat, it will still not be enough to meet the needs of people who. like myself, want to age in place.  We can do it, but most of us will need help of some kind.

(Hector, a mobile assistive robot and smart home interface for the elderly.  forbes magazine)

It seems to me that a joint work force of robots and better paid home health care aides is a big step toward solving the problem of affordable care for the rapidly increasing elderly population. And I will welcome it.

I think back to Alvin Toffler’s Future Shock.  He suggested we were moving toward a High Tech, High Touch society.  That is, the more technologically sophisticated we become, in the same proportion we become eager for human contact, need human contact.

Those who write about the elderly and robots always seem to paint things as either/or.  Either we increase the number of in home health care workers or we use robots.  No, we’ll do both.  And we’ll love it.

I want mine for my 70th birthday.

 

Aging, Faith and Spirituality, Humanities, Memories, Third Phase

The Numinous

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Beltane                                                                         Early Growth Moon

One of the problems with the Self model I proposed yesterday is that it is sticky.  When the ego has its way, which it wants to do all the time, feelings and thoughts gum up the mental works, a problem that zen and other meditative disciplines can correct, or, at least, diminish.  Example.  Waking up at 4:50 am this morning, then running through the evening at Tom’s 35th anniversary gig.  Nothing in particular, just this thought then that thought, which might lead to an emotion which can careen off in another direction.

This not unusual for me, neither is it usual.  It happens.  Rather than eliminate the self to control the ego I choose to say, it happens.  And not worry the matter beyond that.  Then I can move on, albeit with less sleep than I might desire, but I can always–and always do–take a nap.

At 10:30 I see John Desteian, my analyst (Jungian), of long standing and we will discuss the numinous.  At least that’s the question for the day:  what is the essence of the numinous?  I’ve had some time to reflect on that since John and I last met.

Rudolf Otto invented the term numinous in his book, The Idea of the Holy.  In this book he wanted to get at the non-rational aspects of religion, the holy and the sacred being the usual terminology for it.  He felt these words had a lot of baggage and had gotten confused in the up take of rationalists who wrote theology, did historical criticism of biblical texts and generally tried to shoehorn the  whole of the religious experience into the reason paradigm forcefully advanced by Enlightenment thinkers and the newly regnant science.  Otto wrote in 1909.

The numinous is his word for the dimension of the holy and the sacred not touchable by reason, yet crucially important to their lived reality.  Jung, born in 1903, came to Otto’s work with a deep respect for the small r religious life and adopted the numinous as critical to his understanding of psychology.

Thus, the question, what is the essence of the numinous?  As I see it right now, the numinous is an affective response to an experience of the other, an example of which would be the ego experiencing the Self.  The ego, as the command and control center of the psyche, believes it has full authority for advancement of its priorities, but not so.  The ego works best and accomplishes the most when subservient to the overall needs of the Self.

That is, the ego wants to arrange matters to optimize the survival and flourishing of what it perceives to be me, the sense of I that has the most developmental history, and also the sense of I most invaded by cultural or personal expectations that may not advance the interest of the Self, but may try (too often successfully) to bend the Self toward the goal of career, ambition, money, fame, power.  This bending or truncating of the Self in service of needs defined by externals–the culture or persons influential in the individual’s history–leads to deep unhappiness, a sense (and the reality) of betraying one’s Self.

The power of the numinous comes in its ability to challenge the mundane priorities of the ego.  Note, the ego’s priorities are not bad or wrong.  To the contrary, they are in line with the need to survive and, within limits, to thrive.  Those limits are, interestingly, the places where the needs of the Self conflict with received expectations, either cultural or from your personal history.  In other words, the unexamined ego will take me down the path of whatever expectation hollers loudest.

When the numinous, the whole Self, (or God, or Brahma, or shunyata) intervenes, it enlists the ego’s powers of organization, protection and survival and marshals them in a more holistic direction, that is, fulfillment of dreams and hopes that connect the individual to the collective, not in the sense of overpowering it or coming to dominate it, but in a manner that synchronizes the gifts of the individual with the needs of the many.

This change of direction can be terrifying, can seem like abandonment of everything mom and dad taught, of those very things the culture says are most desirable, and such a direction threatens the individual with isolation and failure.  The most familiar direction seems safest and an experience of the numinous challenges it.

 

 

 

Aging, Woolly Mammoths

Minute Men

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We sat, the four of us, old and getting older by the minute men, at a round table just like the one from Arthur’s court, poorly lit but filled with food and drink. (water)  The conversation ranged from a recent retiree wondering if he should be working on what he should do next or should he wait until the summer thinking deadline (self-imposed) had passed to the possible toxic effects of too much boron in the soil.

(Caspar David Friedrich, Stages of Life, 1835)

The herd goes its separate ways, especially in the summer months, so our monthly restaurant meetings are sometimes sparsely attended.  This one had Scott, Bill, Warren and me to carry on the conversation, now exceeding 25 years in length about our lives, our feelings, what’s showing up for us right now.

Aging, Art and Culture, Faith and Spirituality, Feelings, Health, Music, Woolly Mammoths

It Won’t Be Long Now

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Beltane                                                                        Early Growth Moon

A poignant and salient answer to how to live the third phase came from an 18 year old Minnesotan, Zach Sobiech, who died yesterday of bone cancer.  Not much of a conversationalist or a letter writer, Zach’s Mom told him he needed to do something, something that would let people know he was here and leave them memories of him.  Diagnosed with osteosarcoma when he was 14, the cancer did not prevent him from writing and singing songs of his own.

He became an internet viral celebrity with the song, Clouds, downloaded over 3 million times.

Those of us in the third phase understand the challenge Zach faced.  Death was no longer an abstraction, but a certain visitor.  As he says in this song, it won’t be long now.  Oh, we may have 20 years or 30 years, compared to his 4, but the link is the moment when you come to know this life ends.  For good and for ever.

(Alphonse Osbert – Les chants de la nuit.)

How did he respond?  He dug into the riches of his Self, shrugged off the self-pity and depression, and turned those feelings into art.  This is the best and healthiest way to greet the coming of the Sickle Bearer.  Find out who you are.  Find out what best expresses your journey, the ancientrail that has been, is, your life.  Then open up that expression, put it outside yourself for the rest of us to learn from, to cherish, to embrace.  Because it won’t be long now.

Aging, Faith and Spirituality, Health

Walking Upright in the World

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Spring                                                                         Planting Moon

Let me describe, before it gets away from me, submerged in the always been, how exciting and uplifting it was to realize I was walking across the floor at Carlson Toyota.  Just walking.  Putting one foot in front of the other.  No flinching, no torquing to keep things stable.  Just. Walking.

When we return to normalcy after a period of illness or trauma, there is a transition period, a time of grace if we take it, which can offer us a reminder about the wonder of the every day.  To walk across a floor with no pain, to walk as one is used to doing.  So powerful.

In fact, I took as my motto Walking Upright in the World reflecting back on the fact that I had to relearn to walk at the age of 2 and honoring that 2 year old guy for the gift of a normal, usually unregarded capacity to do that.

So much of what we do is really a wonder.  Take grasping and holding.  Typing on a keyboard.  Lifting objects from the ground to over our heads.  Breathing.  Yes, think about breathing.  Only to inhale is not enough to sustain life.

Sitting.  Standing.  Eating.  All wonders, wonders often, perhaps usually, revealed only when they disappear from our repertoire either temporally or permanently.

So take a moment today and celebrate the walk.  The jump.  The high five.  The low bow.

Congratulations!

Aging, Feelings, Third Phase

Ruts and Graves

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Spring                                                                            Planting Moon

 

The only difference between a grave and rut are the dimensions.  Oh?  At least when you’re in a rut you can still breathe.  Breathing means hope.  Nothing definite, for sure, but hope.

This cliche points at a perceived truth, that being stuck in sameness is a living death.  And you can certainly how that might be true.  Work at a convenience store, come home, warm up a tv dinner, grab a beer, fall asleep in the recliner.  Get up and do it again.

Or drive into the city, park the expensive car in the expensive parking slot ride the elevator up to a posh office, direct, command, leave and drive the expensive car home to the expensive house.  Get up and do it again.

Sure.  That can mean a restricted, narrowed way of greeting this vast opportunity called life.  But.  People like me find certain routines soothing, they pave the way for creative activity, for hard concentration.  Routines allow the needs to be taken care of.  That way the non-routine acts of writing, scholarship, thinking, close looking and reading can happen on their own rhythms.

I like the bowl of fruit, some cottage cheese and a tomato in the morning, reading the paper, having some tea, then heading downstairs to start work.  I suppose you could call that a rut, the food boring, the repetition bland, I find it nourishing and centering.  You say cereal, I have tomato.

My opinion?  Pick your routines and habits carefully, make sure they support the things you do that matter the most, not the other around.  Then reinforce them as much as you can.  If you’re like me, that is.

Aging, Dogs, Family, Music

Jazz Noir

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Spring                                                                        Planting Moon

“Creativity is the social act of the solitary person.”  William Butler Yeats

Reading the book about introverts, Quiet, will help you see why.  Even if you’re not an introvert, reading this book is a good introduction to the world of those of us who prefer alone time, find crowds and parties taxing, would like time to mull over decisions.

Part of what was so stressful for me with the Kona situation and the back pain was that I had to go to the vet with her three days in a row, meaning I increased my regular interaction with outsiders by multiples.  That tires me out.  Even on a good day.

Right now Kate’s upstairs doing the cross-word and watching the dogs, the back pain is much better this morning, probably the result of the prednisone and I’m down here in the study getting ready to get back to work.

 

We have a jazz weekend planned with Craig Taborn at the Walker tonight and Jazz Noir at the Artist’s Quarter on Sunday night.  Taborn is a Golden Valley kid who has made a big name for himself as a jazz pianist and an ensemble player flavored by Miles Davis in his Bitches Brew phase.   Jazz Noir is a radio play being broadcast live at the 8 pm hour over KBEM.

“For those who long for “the grand old days” of radio, Jazz88 has answered the call. Jazz Noir is a new original radio series complete with live radio actors and jazz ensemble in front of a studio audience, just like in the days of radio’s infancy.

(Avon–Latisha White)

Jazz88’s first episode is an original drama, Charles & Avon, that will be performed, recorded and broadcast in front of a live audience from the Artists’ Quarter in downtown Saint Paul on Sunday, April 28, with shows at 5 and 8 p.m. The 8 p.m. performance will be broadcast live on 88.5 FM.”

Aging, Health, Third Phase

Ah. He said.

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Spring                                                                       Planting Moon

I apologize for the long series of posts on my back and my shoulder and my angst.  In part they come because this blog has replaced my long habit of keeping written journals, so you get what happens, if you’re a reader here.

In part they come because they track my progress (regress?  slide?  decline?) into the later years when the body repairs itself less quickly.  In part they come, mostly they come, because they are what is foremost to me at the moment.

Still, I know such posts can turn off readers who also suffer from their aches and pains, their own flurries of difficult to handle matters, their own angst.  All I can say is that this an ancientrail, too, one followed by so many, most, maybe, probably by all.  So it is not about me I write, but us inflected at the moment by an Oklahoma born, Indiana raised, Minnesota preferred man and his 66 year old body.

Though my back feels somewhat better I am now weary, tired from the last week plus, probably allowing myself to be tired because Kate’s on her way home.  Now I will be able to  focus on recovering, not recovering, reinjuring and managing.  Looking forward to it.

Aging, Dogs, Health

In Other Medical News

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Spring                                                                                   Planting Moon

Knobby is now knobless.  She ate well last night and this morning. went outside on the leash, front and back, has a spark in her eye.  All good to see, especially the day after a significant procedure.

In other medical news I feel small signs of improvement in the back.  Not enough to hop back on the treadmill, but some.  My in house doc prescribed prednisone for four days, a course I started yesterday.  And, of course, the tincture of time.

I feel less woozy today, less out of it.  That feels really good.  Along with the sun, Kona’s improvement and my back’s, that’s enough to push the needle back into the good headed toward joyful segment of the dial.

A fun trip into the ophthalmologist, then a quiet afternoon and evening.  Sounds perfect to me.