When you hit seventy, the state of California says you get an automatic pass on jury duty if you’ve got a doctor’s note. Either they think you’ve earned the right to say no, or you’re too stupid to participate. Some of us consider it a relief, although to me, it would be an insult. And I wondered.
Do you look forward to withdrawing from civic obligation, social interaction, family, and/or life in general, as you age?
Disengagement can mean anything from no longer having the big holiday parties, to staying home on Sunday and watching the Mass on TV. I recently participated in a discussion of elder social withdrawal, and everybody had a different point of view as to whether, and why, it might happen. There are probably as many opinions as there are elders.
Some felt it was due to lifelong introversion/extroversion, a pessimistic or optimistic personality, or the degree of resilience in the face of change. “If the elder is able to adapt to changing circumstances…s/he will maintain a healthy attitude right up to the end.”
These were only opinions, not scientific fact, but they resonated with all of us.
Resilience as to change is the scariest thing to me. When stupid-heads talk about extending the human lifespan, I wonder what they’re going to do to keep us from going crazy from all the change. Over my sixty-one years, I’ve seen everything from party lines to drones to home appliances that communicate via satellite. A couple days ago, I called my friend by accident from my computer. I hit a hyperlink and all of a sudden Mary Jane was saying hello from somewhere inside my laptop.
And that’s just psychology. What about the physiology of age? What if you couldn’t hear, see, or think well enough to understand the world around you?
One elder said we disengage as we age, whether intentionally or not.
I hate to think that’s true, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing in all cases. I’m withdrawing, if you want to call it that. I don’t think I’ll ever go to Disneyland again, and I’m much more picky about saying yes to commitments, because I have less energy. But that’s withdrawal at age sixty-one. It’ll get worse. My mom, 90, wants to do more but she is slower. I think it’s partly because she is so curious that she’s easily distracted, but it may be more than that. Sometimes she skips events and gatherings because she doesn’t have the energy anymore. It’s just too difficult.
An elderly woman said, “Disengagement with this life may be in preparation for the next.”
Well, disengagement for its own sake isn’t that productive. If you were preparing for the next, wouldn’t you have to do something proactively, like read and learn and talk about it with others?
“It used to frighten me a little to notice that I seem to be disengaging, but no longer. Somehow I see it as nature’s way of gently leading me (toward my future).”
The ability to withdraw for periods of time might be a gift. One person said she was unexpectedly caught without anything to read at her doctor’s office, and “sat there for 25 minutes without anything but my inner life, and it was OK!” Maybe that’s another thing we get in old age: the ability to be comfortable with stillness.
“I’m not really unhappy,” said a lifelong introvert. “Just concerned sometimes that I’m abnormally withdrawn. But maybe it’s not so abnormal after all.”
Another chooses to fight: “This discussion has made me aware that I must make more effort to get involved or I AM going to just slowly fade away and I don’t like that idea.”
How does one fight old-age disengagement? The best way: having a purpose. More on that soon.
Lynne, your blog and most of the comments are on-the-spot. With each term used, I felt there were different meanings/descriptions that could be interpreted to grasp the feelings within each of us. When I retired, I prepared a list of “things to do.” I left out details, just named a few. My volunteer list grew and grew. Within three years after retirement, I discovered that I was now “too busy.” I kept hearing comments from other retirees stating they had bitten off more than they could chew. The adage, “I should go back to work, so that I can get a day off,” was repeated time and time again. So, here I am, 20 years after retirement, and I still keep busy… but with things I truly enjoy. I feel some of the initial tasks I listed were exploratory. I now write each day. Outside the home, I conduct writing sessions for “retired” people, primarily — though not limited to seniors only. And, other things now must occupy my time. I’m entering into a caregiving status. That will grow. However, I will be able to continue my present “tasks” regardless of time required. So, each of us must consider reality. But don’t approach it with negativity about being too busy to do what we want to try. Give every interest a try — then drop those that lose the level of interest — continue as long as you can. Explore the new ones that arise, too.
I love your attitude, Bob. Every now and then, I get in a rut, thinking I’m overloaded and don’t have time for the stuff I most enjoy. But then I am blessed with a shift in my perspective. Here’s one: I do very much enjoy that morning cup of coffee, along with the newspaper and then my laptop (news, email, social media, blogs, etc.) Soon an hour or more has passed, and I’ve happily expended a ton of my best energy (for writing and thinking) on the above. Only then do I go to my office to work on my novel. Which I realized is stupid. Why spend that golden energy on things that are so much less important? So I tried a new routine: as soon as I’m fully awake, I put away the newspaper and laptop and go to work in the office. The writing is so much easier then! Scenes unfurl in my caffeinated, rested brain. Dialog flows. Complications emerge (fuel for dramatic tension). I’m in the sweet spot! My point is, it’s so cool to be at an age where we can reconfigure our lives to suit ourselves. Most of the time, anyway.
My sister that passed away two years ago after a very long illness often talked about her ‘bucket’ list. It became very important to her. She still wanted to do so many things-but was too ill to do them. And yet her life was full. Only a few days before she died she managed to go with her husband to see her granddaughter play soccer. I admired her so much because of her will to live her life the fullest under the circumstances. I am not sure that I have that in me.
There’s always that push-pull, isn’t there, Judy? Like I had such high hopes for getting a bunch of things done today and yesterday, but I feel just so sluggish and uncomfortable, as if I’ve lost my will to achieve. It takes continuing energy. Sounds like your sister had it, even in spite of her illness. I am sorry for your loss, my friend.
For me it’s mostly a shift in priorities. Now that I have less years left than those already lived, I’m a bit more selective about how I spend my time and how I engage. I can feel that I’m still evolving as a human being even as I am aging. Everything I choose to release opens up space for something I want to pursue. And yes, I am more of an introvert than not. People may judge. But for right now, it’s good. For me. Probably for others, too.
Jane, everything you said resonates, but the thing that I enjoyed the most was your confidence in expressing your priorities. How nice it is to know ourselves so well at this point! Thanks for sharing.
This is an interest topic to consider. Since I retired 18 months ago I’ve relished having more solitude and have willingly disengaged from some social ‘obligations’. That said, I recognize the danger of doing this to excess–I could easily, and perhaps quite happily!–turn into an out-of-touch hermit. There is a fine balance between enjoying the luxury of more solitude and remaining mentally sharp and engaged with life.
Linda, it’s really important not to disengage too much for one reason (among others): it’s said that the brain can grow new cells, and the 3 activities that encourage new cell growth are exercise, learning new things, and socializing. The last was a surprise to me, but when the article explained all the complexities of socializing, it made sense. What I’m mainly afraid of is losing touch with modern life as it changes, right up to my last years. Technology, politics/world situation, modern health practices, environment are all important to know about, so we need to keep challenging ourselves (“learning new things.”)
What a great topic to ponder, Lynne. I do find myself being more selective about how I choose to spend what feels like more limited time and energy. Not sure if it’s withdrawing as much as setting priorities, and not feeling compelled to do anything I don’t really want to do. I guess it remains to be seen if there are fewer – or more – things I really want to do as I get older!
“remains to be seen if there are fewer or more things…” to do as we age. Quite right, Roxanne. For example, I never blogged or did book reviews when I was younger, and I want more time for that now. And for sitting on the patio for an hour or two at a time, contemplating and writing down my thoughts, puzzling out things. Or meditating twice a day – my new goal. These take time, and I want to do more of them. I actually have a list of “more” things. One is “Pet and hug a new foal.” My idea of Disneyland!