As I sit writing in the pre-dawn, a blessing arrives: the sound of raindrops on my patio roof. I’m struck by inspiration: how beautiful it would be to feel the drops on my skin. I set my notebook aside and open the front door, but there’s a problem.
Before stepping out, I study the walkway, lined by plants and bushes, and I wonder if there’s anything hiding there. A snake, a black widow, a rat? Will I be startled or worse, bitten by something? I’m alone and I’m in my nightgown. What if the door locks somehow? The neighborhood is asleep. Would I sit on my porch until daylight, then tiptoe over and wake up my neighbor?
Etc.
Of course, I’m exaggerating for effect, but it’s 75% true. Sometimes, coyotes run down our street. A mountain lion has been spotted–rarely, but still, we live on the edge of rural, open land. Hillsides, gullies, fields.
I’m an early riser, and I love the idea of walking before sunrise. One morning when I told Bill I was heading out, he looked alarmed. “It’s still dark.”
I went anyway, but his warning took a little of the fun away. As an older person, I’m more careful. In my thirties and forties, I’d drive north to Monterey to see friends, a journey of about seven hours. I went alone. Would I do that now?
Would I drive to a distant city, get a hotel room, and have dinner alone? Or (my fantasy) ride the train all over California while writing?
Frankly, I do find myself being much more careful as I age, and while part of that is wise, I wonder if I’m teaching myself to live in fear, and if that’s a normal aspect of aging.
We’re more careful physically, because we break more easily and heal less quickly, but it can go too far.
Worry, of course, is a means of psychological control. This isn’t just true of older people. Haven’t you seen parents of young children turning themselves inside out to keep their children safe from every kind of potential trauma?
Universally, we humans believe if we’re careful enough–if we limit ourselves to safe, known places and people–we’ll be okay. We even tend to blame victims, because that reassures us that we can dodge the same fate through carefulness. (“What was she wearing? Was she alone? It was two in the morning and she’d been drinking? Well, what did she expect?”)
We’re trying to control life–our little corner of the world. But on the other hand, as older people, one of the lessons we should have learned by now is that life will go on its merry way, doing whatever random things it chooses. So it would actually be smarter to develop resiliency and adaptability.
How much better it would be if we could let go of some of our fear. How much freer we would be.
How might we develop that? If we took a baby step and nothing bad happened, might we not become braver and enjoy more of what life has to offer?
One way might be to get away and do something solo, which would increase our confidence. Julia Cameron, in her popular book The Artist’s Way, encourages readers to have an artist’s date with themselves. Here’s her description of the Artist Date and here are 101 Ideas for Artist’s Dates.
As I write this, I blush, wondering if you’re all braver than me, and if I’m the only one who lives this way. Am I making too much of everyday caution turning to fear?
On the morning of the surprise rain shower, I decided that if I gave in to my fear, I’d miss out on one of the sweetest things a person could experience. So I stomped my feet a bit to scare away the larger carnivores and stood in the driveway in my nightgown at dawn, feeling raindrops on my face and shoulders. Then I went back inside, proud of myself.
For more on the subject:
Here is an article about risk in older age, from Senior Planet.
And here is the trailer from The Last Word, starring Shirley MacLaine. I hope you enjoy them both. And in the comments, why not tell us about a risk you took? It’ll make us all feel braver.
Hi Lynne! Good for you. I do believe from all the research I’ve done about positive aging that we must resist the urge to give in to fear or seek out safety over quality experiences. But even though I consider myself very brave, I’ve noticed that it doesn’t come as easily as it used to. Still, because I don’t want to be the kind of person who makes choices based on fear or the need to be “safe” I am doing my best to not let it be a guiding principle in my life. For example, we are heading to Kauai next week and decided rather than do a regular helicopter tour we are doing a “doors off” tour where they strap you in but there are no doors on the helicopter. To me the thought is a little “exhilerating” but I’m REALLY looking forward to it. And yes, I’ll let you know how it goes. And like you said, the “smartest thing we could do is to develop resiliency and adaptability.” ~Kathy
As an older person, a helicopter or hot air balloon ride seems much riskier than it did when I was younger. (I might do the bird but not the basket!) And I can’t enjoy the Palm Springs tram because I’m just too anxious. I hate that about myself, and it’s getting worse. But now that I’m older I’m also more aware that I only have one life, and if I’m going to spend it being scared, well, it’s a waste. I do try now to simply think positive, because being scared all the time is like dying too soon.
I SO relate to this, Lynne (and wrote about it myself last year–the idea of striking that balance between healthy caution and limiting fear as we get older). I find myself thinking “I’d better take my phone when I walk in case I fall or have a heart attack and need to call 911” or “I’m not sure I want to go to that march because what if a nut job with a gun or a terrorist decides to act out?” I don’t EVER remember thinking that way when I was younger. I think some of my fears are a result of it being a different world today (who among us thought about terrorists when we were in our twenties???). Some of it is an awareness of how life can change in an instant due to a fall, an acute health issue, or someone else’s carelessness. One of my greatest fears has been flying, but when a friend’s husband was dying (in California, and I was in Maine), I realized that I had to get over it if I wanted to support her and say goodbye to him. Reminding myself that life is short, and that certain opportunities may not come this way again, helps me step out of my comfort zone. Great, though-provoking and candid post!
Roxanne, those examples are what I’m talking about. I think we might consider them urban contemporary anxieties. I would never go walking without my phone for the same reason, but still, I had to laugh (nodding in agreement).
Thing have changed, though, and I don’t mean us getting older. For example, when we were kids, we went camping. Mom and Dad didn’t feel they had to bring a gun! But these days, I’d feel as if I should. I have pepper spray in my purse and bear spray in my glove box. It’s like the dang frontier all over again.
PS Can you give us the link to that blog post you mentioned?
Here you go, Lynne (thanks for asking!): https://boomerhaiku.com/being-cautious-at-our-age-wisdom-or-paranoia/
Over my life I have taken a lot of risks, from taking on traditionally male roles in the workplace [racehorse trainer in the 70s/80s, oil refinery worker, law enforcement, etc.] to standing up to bullies and those who would attempt to squash my strong spirit [former coworkers, family, exes]. All these have made me stronger, and braver, and surer of myself to address my fears. I’m not afraid to step out, whether it be into the semi-dark of an early morning walk, or a day-long drive alone to a new place. In the great unknown lies countless ah-ha! moments and that sense of “yeah! you did it! you go, girl!”
Ginger, you sound like a dyed-in-the-wool brave person. I like hanging around people like you. My friend CJ Hernley is brave. If you glance at her Amazon bio you’ll see what I mean: https://amazon.com/CJ-Hernley/e/B008R1SRQS/
I think brave people age that way, too. The rest of us have to work on it! Thanks for stopping by.
Wow, Lynne. I love this and can relate to becoming more cautious as I age, mostly related to physical limitations. After taking a lot of risks in my younger years (to my distinct benefit) like walking out on a marriages that weren’t working, I may not be as eager to step out of my comfort as I age, but I hope I never stop believing that, if need be, I can and will. Good for you for stepping out into the rain despite your fears. Thanks for another great post.
Kathy, you prove my point that we do have reason to be cautious. It’s not foolishness. And sometimes the greatest courage comes from not reacting to interpersonal drama, or sticking up for ourselves, etc. But the question, as always, is where to draw the line.
I told Sandy I was becoming annoyed at the math questions. This time, I deliberately gave a wrong answer. We’ll see if that matters!
It worked! It went through anyway. Hahahahahahaha!!!
Though I was born under the courageous sign of Leo, I’m not particularly brave. Recently I’ve read Barbara Brown Taylor’s book, Learning to Walk in the Dark, twice, and have revised my views about darkness and fear. I have even referred to her fine book on my blog this week.
A risk I took? Long ago, I left the Mennonite culture and embraced a new life. While I am thankful for its many gifts to me, I love feeling free from the restrictions it imposed back then.
I admire souls who show vulnerability. Thank you for this candid post, Lynne.
Hi Marian,
I enjoyed your blog post about where writers write. When I meet writers, my questions often center on the logistics, the practical side: what does your writing space look like? Do you move from one place to another? Any particular time of day? What software do you use? Do you ever dictate, and again, what are the mechanics?
How do you balance family & other demands with your writing time? Etc. So seeing all of these writing spots was intriguing to me.
For those who may want to see the post, it’s here: http://marianbeaman.com/2017/09/20/dark-light-where-do-you-write/
Thanks for your comment, Marian.
Thanks for the share, Lynne.
I like to think of my hikes around the Pacific Northwest as “controlled bravery.” I’m with a group and we have a leader who knows the trails, but just venturing into the woods is a big thing for me. Since taking that first step, I feel stronger in body and mind. However, I’ll admit to still feeling fear when I have to drive for a long time on freeways. So many opportunities to die at the hands of other drivers who are texting, talking on their phones, driving while intoxicated, or just not paying attention. But I go where I need to go anyhow.
The Last Word sounds like a delightful movie. I always enjoy Shirley MacLaine.
Another great blog post.
Hi Sandy,
(Is anybody else annoyed with these math questions? I know it’s my blog, but it’s beginning to bug me. I installed a new hacking protection filter and voila. Math. Ugh.)
But I digress.
I do see the truth in what you’re saying about hiking. A couple years ago I was hiking merrily down a path and had to bend low to get under a tree that had fallen across it. The next morning my back was so wrenched I could barely walk! It persisted for days!
And driving on southern Calif. freeways is pretty scary, too. Half the cars are drifting as their drivers text and whatever. The other half are maniacal idjits. I’m with you on this!
Love this, Lynne. We must never stop being brave. It will look different for all of us but as we continue to step out our our comfort zones and face those dragons, whatever they may be, we shape how we will experience our maturing years. I’m convinced of it.
I’m thinking this might be one of the keys to aging well, Linda. A challenge, but worth it. Thanks for stopping by.