Getting Old Is a Privilege

Bill, Lynne and Mom (Marie)

The doctor felt sorry for the elderly woman. She had recently been widowed after seventy-three years of marriage, and now she would live out her days in this rest home. “I’m so sorry,” the doctor said. “What has it been like for you losing your husband after so many years together?” She paused for a moment and then replied, “Heaven.”

I just started reading How We Age by Dr. Marc Agronin, and that’s an excerpt. In our culture, the prevailing viewpoint is that everything about getting old is bad, it’s horrible, it’s hell. Okay, I get the mortality thing. I don’t want to die, and the older I get, the likelier it seems! But does that mean that the older I get, the sadder and more resigned I have to feel? That’s the message our culture shovels at us.

Unless you look for counterintelligence: according to this article in Psychology Today, people in their 70s are as happy as those in their 20s! Bill and I were discussing age and illness the other night, and here’s something we both found comfort in: if we were to die suddenly, at least we reached the crucial milestones of having raised our kids to the point where they can take care of themselves. We’ve enjoyed fulfilling careers and traveled, seen two grandchildren born, and eased the old age of our parents. I’ll bet that plays into the satisfaction our group feels. They’ve won the race; now they can stop running, unless they damn well feel like running. In which case, lace up and rock out.

Ella's first visit to Grandma Lynne's house October 2010

One of the difficulties we face as we age is letting go of our career identities. For thirty years I was a corporate suit. I crafted and polished this identity. I spoke and dressed and thought a certain way. It took me years to let go – actually, I still have my blazers and dress pants. They fit well and look nice and I might have to dress up someday, right? It’s the last vestige of my ID, hanging in the guest-room closet. But now that I’m not Ms. Corporate, I can cuss and wear hippie clothes and not do my nails. Take that, bureaucracy world!

In our society we “fight” aging. As if that’s going to stop time. Well, it won’t, and I’ve decided to enjoy it and to seek out people who can help me understand how to do that. In More magazine this month, Dr. Vivian Diller talks about letting go of wanting to look young in favor of wanting to look good for your age.  She says the benefits of “consciously letting go of youth” are:

You will feel differently. You will feel more hopeful. You will create a solid foundation from which to grow for the rest of your life. Yes, there is loss. But you also gain something on the other side of it. There’s a comfort level, a renewed energy for other things.

I can’t link to the article due to copyright considerations but it’s at your grocery store now. I felt invigorated after I read it, and I wish that for you.

(Apologies and best wishes to those seniors who lost their retirement dreams in the Great Recession. I hope and pray that things get better for you very soon.)

Were You Raised to Be a Doormat?

Yesterday a difficult acquaintance caught me at the grocery store and cried on my shoulder about a big problem she was having. I was surprised because her problem was really personal and we don’t know each other well, but she was distressed so I listened and made sympathetic noises. When I saw a decent opening, I bolted.

Later, I told Mom that I hadn’t wanted to hear about the woman’s problems because it made me feel obligated, but more than that, I wondered why she’d dumped that load on me.

“She probably feels comfortable with you,” said Mom. “Maybe she doesn’t have anybody else. It’s a compliment.”

A light went off in my brain as I recognized the sound of old, familiar propaganda.

Like many of you, I was taught to sacrifice my own interests in service to others. If a person who everybody else avoids reaches out to us, we feel honored to be singled out. Because we’re special – stronger, more patient, more broad-minded than those wimpy others who would simply give up.

I was taught to think, “I must really have something, that this person needs me.” What I didn’t see was that normal people avoided the abusers. Normal people valued themselves enough to protect their time and energy, whereas I labored to help the crackpots change and do better. When I first got hired in human resources, I was practically codependent.

I had the look of a victim. 

I understand that my parents thought they were teaching me compassion, but they went too far toward love and not enough in the direction of self-defense. It would have been good if they’d taught me to squint, Clint Eastwood-style, when I encountered potential users.

I once read a book called The Sociopath Next Door (yep, that’s what floats my boat) by Martha Stout. Toward the end she said, now that you know everything about a sociopath, you’ll want me to tell you how to protect yourself. How to see them coming. And the answer is, you can’t, not really, because they look for people who are nice, because those people are more easily manipulated.

Well, isn’t that great.

Even if you never meet a sociopath, you still have to have some filters, because even good people can tend to take, take, and take some more. Here’s an article by Dr. Judith Orloff about maintaining balance in a vampire relationship.

Now that I’m older I consciously resist looking like an easy mark or sending out signals that say, “Use me! Use me!” After many years in HR, two failed marriages, and countless one-sided relationships, I have developed a strategy. I offer it to you.

At first you take a little chance on a person, without making an irrevocable commitment. Then you look for reciprocity – does the person give you something ethical in return? Time, effort, repayment, career help, etc.?

Or instead of looking for reciprocity, observe and track the person’s behaviors. Discount any talk of big dreams or undeserved heartache; watch the patterns. If you see a track record of selfish behavior, lack of follow-through, or narcissism, arm yourself. The best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. Act accordingly.

I understand that there’s a risk in taking this hard-line approach. You can’t shut down or become a recluse. Compassion is good! We need more of it. Also, this rule gets a little wobbly when you’re dealing with children or young people because they’re not fully formed. I cut them more slack than mature adults.

Here’s a weird outcome of my new thinking: I don’t feel quite so special. I’m average, not heroic. I no longer have bragging rights. (More about that in a previous post, The Courage to Be Average.)

Although it’s good to be heroic, I’d reserve that for pulling kitties out of trees. In the meantime, I implore you to teach your kids or grandkids the squinty-eye. It just might save them from being drained and manipulated by the weirdos, narcissists and slackers who depend on a friendly face and big heart for all their energy needs.

Let’s Just Laugh Today

The Washington Post’s Mensa Invitational once again invited readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding,  subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

Here are the winners:

1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.

2. Ignoranus: A person who’s both stupid and an asshole.

3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you  realize it was your money to start with.

4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

5. Bozone ( n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.

8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.

9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.

1 0. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)

11. Karmageddon: It’s like, when everybody is sending off all these  really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s like, a serious bummer.

1 2. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

13. Glibido: All talk and no action.

14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

15. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.

16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

17. Caterpallor ( n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you’re eating.

The  Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words. 

And the winners are:

1. Coffee, n. The person upon whom one coughs.

2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.

3. Abdicate, v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.

4. Esplanade, v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.

5. Willy-nilly, adj. Impotent.

6. Negligent, adj. Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown.

7. Lymph, v. To walk with a lisp.

8. Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.

9. Flatulence, n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.

11. Testicle, n. A humorous question on an exam.

12. Rectitude, n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.

13. Pokemon, n. A Rastafarian proctologist.

14. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.

15. Frisbeetarianism, n. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

16. Circumvent, n. An opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

Thanks to my buddy and frequent AST commenter Nanci Sheeran for sending me this email in the first place, and apologies to family members who’ve already seen it. 

2011 Any Shiny Thing in Review

The WordPress.com stat monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 16,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 6 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Did You Reach Your 2011 Goals?

At our age, we’ve been through a few hundred New Years’ resolutions. You’d think by now it would have resulted in all of us being thin, healthy and accomplished.

Last year, I wrote about setting goals and having something to show at the end of 2o11. I didn’t do everything, but I came close. For example, I didn’t publish my book, but I did revise it with the help of a great, wonderful editor, and now I’m vetting agents. So that feels good.

I’ve hung onto my Weight Watchers accomplishment – barely. With all the holiday eating I lost my way but sure had fun! And since all of America is embarking on a “lose weight, get fit” journey this month, the energy is palpable. I’ll ride that wave for a few months until everybody drops out in March, but by then I’ll be back at my goal weight.

I decided to have one goal for 2012, just one, and I’m pretty excited about it: to embark on my own personal Creativity Training Camp. Let me explain. Back in October I freaked out when I learned that alcohol can increase your risk of breast cancer. (If you want to know more, read this.) So I cut WAY back, to almost nothing.

There was another element to my healthful period: exercise. According to the 20-year long Nurses Health Study, walking three hours a week can reduce your risk of cancer and improve just about everything else in your health profile. So I did that for a month, too. I kept track on my calendar and achieved 180 minutes a week, one way or the other. I either went to the gym, or walked or rode my bike around the neighborhood, or swam.

It was fantastic. I slept well, my creativity and curiosity shot through the roof, and I was less anxious and more peaceful and productive. Then Thanksgiving hit, and the holiday decadence began. Whoopee! I sure did enjoy all those calories. Yum.

But now I’m back to restless sleep, anxiety, and stupid-brain, which is not going to help me at all as I embark on the rough draft of my new book, Golden Years My Ass. Yes, that’s the title, for now anyway. I want to enjoy the process of creating and writing, and to return to that place before the holidays where I felt so calm, happy and productive, so that’s my only goal: Creativity Training Camp. I’ll go back to the regime I started before the holidays. If you’d like to join me by creating your own version, let us know about it.

How do we motivate ourselves?

You probably know that fear is not an effective motivator. Even fear of death can’t make us do anything after the novelty of the thought wears off. What is a motivator is the thought of a positive outcome, and that’s what’s I keep in my mind. I already know how good I’m going to feel if as I stick with my Creativity Training Camp program. I’m already looking forward to the inspirational lightbulbs going off in my brain.

How about you? Are you resolved to make a change or do something new in 2012?

Note from last week’s contest: I hope you don’t think I’ve been ignoring your awesome responses, but I didn’t want to influence anybody who might sense a route to win the $25 gift card and two free books. Thus I’ve refrained from commenting to any great extent. While I appreciated all of your thoughtful comments, I felt that Dr. Lee would be the most excited about Marilyn Patrick’s past life recollections, so I am going to award her the prize. Thanks so much for participating, and happy new year!

Enjoy Every Sandwich: A Book Review and Contest

How would you live if you weren’t afraid to die?

I’ve fantasized about this. Yes, I am weird but you knew that already. As we get older, we tend to consider these existential questions, so I ask you: What if you lived every day completely unafraid of dying? This is the premise of a very enjoyable and thought-provoking new book, Enjoy Every Sandwich, by the late Dr. Lee Lipsenthal, a colleague of Dr. Dean Ornish who did the intro.

Dr. Lee, who loved rock and roll, borrowed the name of his book from a Warren Zevon album. Lee was a guy with a positive outlook, doing good work at the Preventive Medicine Research Institute in California where he helped empower even very sick people to live life fully. Then he received a grave diagnosis, but he never freaked out, and his family and friends wanted to understand why. The book is the answer to that question.

Like me, Lee was raised to be afraid of everything, sure that disaster loomed around every corner. He says of his well-intended, Depression-era parents, “Maybe they came by their anxieties honestly, but they honed them to an art!”

“My parents taught me to look for stress in life. I now realized that looking for stress creates stress. The harder I looked, the more I found.”

So he changed his awareness. “If I looked for fun, joy and playfulness, I would find it. If I looked for trouble, stress and heartache that was what I would find.” He also began a lifetime study of meditation, which can change the physiology of the human brain so one produces fewer stress hormones. This in turn benefits blood pressure and circulation; improves respiratory function; reduces the perception of pain and body discomfort; lowers the risk of artery blockage; decreases heart rhythm disturbances and risk of heart attack; modifies fear and anxiety reactions and enhances immune system function. Not bad for twenty minutes a day.

“Meditation also helped me see that my expectations were just stories that I was telling myself about life. I became free of what life was supposed to be and able to enjoy life as it was.”

I felt empowered by his thoughts. For example, “Our bodies have an incredible capacity for self-healing. We have an intricate and complex immune system that knows what to do with cancer.” The more healthfully you deal with stress, the more your body is able to do its thing. And one of the best ways to deal appropriately with stress is meditation.

To be honest, Lee loses me a bit when he delves into his perception of past lives, although many readers will find it delightful, because there’s enough evidence there to think he isn’t just kidding! He included it to suggest we should open our minds and hearts to the idea that we don’t know everything, so we should give ourselves over to the joy of the “what if?” It also explains why he wasn’t freaked out about dying, and by extension, why we don’t need to be either.

I do wish he had explained why, given that he had only a 10% chance of beating his type of cancer, he chose to be ravaged by chemo and radiation instead of taking a pass and enjoying the time he had left? In the end, does that undercut his message?

I don’t think so. Even if a man blinks when staring into the dark maw of Death, I still buy Lee’s message that we should try harder to live in the present, suffused with gratitude. I recommend Enjoy Every Sandwich and I wish his family peace.

Contest and disclosure: I was invited to review this book, and in return for my honest impressions, the publisher promised to send one of my readers two free copies plus a $25 gift card. I will forward that bounty to whoever answers this question in the most interesting way before January 6, 2012:

Do you believe that, after we die, our souls reappear on earth in the form of another human? If you do, tell us why.

This Is What Sixty Looks Like

Renee Fisher

This is a delicate subject.

When people say I look good for my age I feel like I’ve been given an illicit prize. It’s a race I’m not running. I don’t deserve acclaim. Besides, don’t they see my turkey neck? How low are their standards?

But I digress. What I meant to say is, why do we care?

It’s not a competition, or it shouldn’t be.

I feel awkward when age comes up. If a person says I don’t look fifty-seven, I don’t want to say “thanks!” because that reinforces the premium we put on youth. And if a person proudly announces to me, “I’m seventy-five!” I don’t know what to say. “Congratulations”? I admit I have sometimes coughed up what was expected: “You look great!” or “You look so much younger!” But I always feel stupid, because the comment feels wrong.

Ditto if someone says, “You’re my daughter’s age,” or “I could be your mother.” I say nothing. It’s so fraught. What would you recommend? “I’d love to have you as a mother?” If a person says, “I’m so old and tired today, I feel plum worn out,” you would say, “I’m sorry.” But if a person says, “I’m old enough to be your mother,” I just clam up.

Yes, I know this won’t be a problem much longer. Anybody old enough to be my mother will be dead. But still, I swear I am not going to make comments like this to any younger women, ever. Age is going to have to become irrelevant unless I’m going to the doctor.

I saw the same sentiment in a book I mentioned recently, Saving the Best for Last. The authors apparently felt it was important enough to put it in chapter one. When her friend died, Renee Fisher decided that she would view every year as a gift, and she would own her age, whatever it was. If anyone tells her now that she doesn’t look her age, she looks them in the eye like, what did you expect? and says, “This is what sixty looks like.”

Her co-author, Joyce Kramer says,

“As I turned fifty, I experienced myself as the most beautiful woman I had ever been in my life because at fifty I liked myself.”

Isn’t that something to aspire to? At our age, we’re tough enough to achieve that kind of equanimity. If enough of us do it, it could become the cultural norm. Wouldn’t that be a great gift to leave our kids?

Merry Christmas to all my readers. I wish you long life and happiness, and I love you all for sharing this little space in, well, space. Best wishes for a beautiful 2012. I’ll see you in two weeks.

The Bad Old Good Old Days

What if you had to use the bathroom in a hurry?

Every now and then I get an email from a Boomer waxing rhapsodic about the good old days and lamenting the disappearance of nickel candy and the ability of kids to play outside without being kidnapped.

These emails can only have been composed by men, because here’s what I remember:

*Sanitary belts that slipped around and chaffed your behind (because they hadn’t invented that post-it note adhesive yet)

*Garter belts, because pantyhose hadn’t been invented yet

*Girdles were required, because a decent woman didn’t jiggle unless she was in a Dean Martin movie.

*White-out and carbon paper  

*Men were bosses and women were grateful (the series Mad Men is not exaggerated)

*Women weren’t welcome as police or firefighters, astronauts, or commercial pilots (but we were welcome to work as a “stewardess” if we were pretty, single, and didn’t go over a maximum age or weight limit, in which case we were fired.)

*Using the designation “Ms.” often earned you a sneer, because it was clear evidence you were one a them bra-burners.

*Sports were for guys, cheerleading was for girls

I'm so happy to be doing all these dishes by hand while wearing high heels!

*We didn’t go to the gym. We watched Jack LaLanne on TV, except for a privileged few women who could afford to go to Venus deMilo women’s exercise salons.

And my personal favorite: at my job in a public school district, the union contract permitted new fathers to take three days’ paid Paternity Leave but new mothers received no equivalent (when I pointed out the unfairness of this, my fellow administrators teased me. Then they got annoyed.)

Next time I get one of those geezer emails I think I’m going to send them my list. You can add to it. What do you remember about the Bad Old Good Old Days?

Four Great Survival Skills

One of the cool things about getting older is you recognize wisdom. You learn to separate the faddish bloviators from the truly wise people.

Tim Ferris strikes me as wise. He wrote a smart book about focusing on the right things and not wasting time as you pursue your dreams.

Malcolm Gladwell is wise. He’s the guy who wrote in his book Outliers that success is a matter of practicing for ten thousand hours. And how that fact relates to our country’s idiotic approach to “educating” our students.

Sheryl Sandberg is wise when she says our little girls are not going to grow up to assume the reins of power unless we change our thinking, and fast. You can watch her TED speech here.

I recently discovered a couple of wise brothers, Dan and Chip Heath. They give speeches and write books about making smart decisions. In a recent column in Slate.com, they identify four key areas for ensuring you survive during this economic downturn. They mean it career-wise but I think it’s 100% applicable to life in general.

Principle 1: Look for bright spots

We tend to focus on the negative. It’s a biological, genetic imperative that I wrote about previously.  Per the Heaths, “this bias will tempt you to focus on the negative when it comes to your work: What are the problems I’m facing and how do I fix them? And, in doing that, you’ll neglect an equally important question: What’s working now, despite the obstacles, and how can I do more of it?”

How this relates to us:

Isn’t this a promising line of questions for our interpersonal relationships? You could apply it to your marriage, your kids, your friends, and your professional endeavors.

The problems tend to get most of our attention (see: Pareto Principal). If we know that, maybe we can enhance our quality of life by shoving the negatives back in the box and playing more with the positives. Fun thought, eh?

Principle 2: Find the right gravity

According to the Heaths, who got the idea from motivational speaker Jim Rohn, “You’re the average of the five people you spend the most time with.”

The Heaths relate it to a work environment, which “exerts a gravitational pull on us; the longer we stay, the more we’ll come to resemble the people we surround ourselves with.”

How this relates to us:

I’m such a fan of Stockholm Syndrome, don’t get me started. I mean this in the sense of women who lose themselves in their significant others. After a while you don’t even notice you’re adopting group-think. So watch out. Flypaper is everywhere. Don’t apologize, just notice. And then flee.

Principle 3: Maintain your bridges

Per the Heaths, we get more benefit from acquaintances than friends:

A landmark 1973 sociology paper by Mark Granovetter described the surprising amount of benefit we receive from our acquaintances, whom he called “weak ties” (as distinct from our “strong ties,” who are our closest friends and family). For example, in one study, Granovetter interviewed people who’d found a job through their contacts. In about 83 percent of the cases, the critical job lead came from a weak tie—a person seen occasionally or rarely.

How this relates to us:

According to Granovetter, opportunities are more likely to come from the least likely place, but as older peeps we tend to think we’ve seen it all. This attitude could wall you off from the magic! So don’t lose your sense of childlike wonder; don’t stop believing. Be open.

Principle 4: Avoid following the herd

Per the Heaths, “In pre-crash Iceland, lifetime fishermen laid down their rods to become investment bankers. We all know how that ended. It’s hard to resist following the herd, but traveling with the herd makes it harder to distinguish yourself. Differentiating yourself requires you to do something different. Think of it this way:

On Krypton, Superman was just an average Joe.
But on Earth, he was Superman.”

How this relates to us:

Older peeps are independent thinkers. At least, that’s what we like to tell ourselves, but in truth, we huddle and bitch just like any other age group.

It’s lonely if you’re out standing in a field. 

In 2011, many of our myths are falling away. Here’s what I’ve come to understand: Some of today’s music is wonderful. Lots of young people work harder than I ever did. And Twitter is about more than a ham sandwich.

Think for yourself, even if it hurts.

Housekeeping note: I am fake-humbled but mostly totally thrilled to tell you that this blog just received its one-hundredth subscriber! So when you leave a comment, you will be speaking to a whole bunch of friends. Your voice is amplified! Have fun with it. Leave a comment – share your voice. And thank you. 

What Social Media Do You Use?

I listened to a podcast today about social media as a marketing tool for small business. The two young guys explained it all very well, but they kept snickering about how “even grandmas are using it now.” It being Facebook, or Twitter, or LinkedIn, or Skype, or YouTube, or Google+.

And it kind of pissed me off.

Because I’m a grandmother. Beyond that, I’m a former webmaster, I have two blogs, I’m active on eight social networking sites, I get my morning news online and I know my way around a Kindle. I teach a class for new bloggers and I was just asked by a national women’s organization to develop a webinar on social networking. Seems the membership wants to learn how to promote their artistic and literary works online. I’m pretty sure they’re all grandmas too.

Ah, well. I’m not going to fret over the young guys. I have a more important mission, and I’m hoping you can help me. If you’re reading this blog, you’re probably from the middle-aged-and-older demographic I so cherish. Would you do me a favor and tell me what social media do you use? I would appreciate it, and it will help me develop my class for that same demographic.

Thanks so very much.

My mom on the computer with Bill.