I used to think it was a big deal, turning 50. Age-related surgeries and hormonal events were a challenge (to say the least). Also, I changed careers and tried to rediscover myself. You, too? And then there was all that learning, all that post-menopausal thinking. Like so many older peeps, I learned new truths about myself and about life in general.
But life isn’t static, and now I’m 60. The mysteries of menopause don’t thrill me anymore. Now I’m going somewhere new again, and it’s exciting and a little frightening.
Here’s what’s new about me. See if any of this resonates for you:
- I treasure unfettered time. Whenever I start to feel guilty about having a day in which I have nothing planned, I think about all the young women (and parents generally) who would kill for a little free time. I think of my younger self, who was about ready to have a nervous breakdown due to too much responsibility and too little rest. I actually had a couple of panic attacks that were terrifying. The pressure never let up, and not just for me. In my 40s, I worked with a gal whose hair was falling out. Her doctor attributed it to stress and she needed to take more time for herself. Like she had a choice. Well, now I have a choice.
- My body is weaker, although still strong. I run sometimes on the treadmill, for a minute or so. Just to remind my body how to do it, but not enough to mess up anything. I ran – well, trotted – the other day when golfing. I told Bill to go on in the cart and I’d catch up. Figured it was a good opportunity to up the RPMs. I was careful, but it felt really good.
- I forget words. This is SO frustrating, because you wonder if it’s the first sign of dementia and that makes you worry, which affects your ability to recall stuff…a downward spiral. Instead, now, I’m learning to hurry past the gap with a breezy synonym. Listeners never know I panicked for a split-second. (By the time I’m in my 70s, this will be boring, but for now, it’s new and fascinating.)
- I am more loving. Especially with Bill. I feel like I’m falling in love with him all over again. (Salespeople call this the “takeaway close.”)
- I am more fearful.
- I am more patient (Well, this is iffy. I sometimes feel self-righteous anger boiling inside. Dr. Christiane Northrup and other sages have said it’s a kind of age-related intolerance of injustice and stupidity. And we don’t care if people think we’re behaving or not.)
You know from past columns that I went into counseling a few months ago to, as Jane Fonda calls it, embark on a Life Review (Watch her inspiring TEDx talk here, and if you don’t have eleven minutes, skip directly to the six minute mark.) I think this might be a good thing to do on every Big Birthday.
I recently read The Female Brain by Dr. Louann Brizendine. Fabulous book, except it ends with the menopausal transformation. I was kind of annoyed about that, but today I’m having second thoughts. What if the years after menopause are the only time where hormones don’t mess up our brains? A nice long stretch of peacefulness, when our thinking is no longer affected by the ebb and flow of reproductive chemicals?
It remains to be seen. Neurological imaging is pretty new, and info about older peeps will be slow in coming. Personally, I can only imagine where I’ll be at 70, 80, 90. Still blogging and writing, I hope, and I expect it to be an interesting ride. What about you? How do you see your post-sixty years?
Ah Lynne,
For reasons unbeknownst to me, the WP gremlins played hide-and-seek with your blog and today you first appeared in my inbox again (though I couldn’t access the most recently published post). How terrific it is to read your words again, nod in agreement and giggle with shared realizations. You made my morning.
I’m so glad, Mimi! Good to hear from you again. There is so much on the web that it’s easy to stay so busy you don’t notice when something changes. Anyway, glad you’re back. Look forward to your always thoughtful comments.
Love this Lynne. Makes me want to hurry up & turn the big 60 & embrace retirement. I also forget words or make them up with franglais, which is probably worse. Also got a real kick out of the way you remind your body to keep moving at regular intervals.
Pat, it’s a wonderful time of life! Good to hear from you.
http://jimparrishavitator.com
I left out comment hit enter by mistake. Must be the 73 thing. Life began again for me at 73 and I am feeling like a 15 year old on his first date. Must be the chaperon. The good thing about forgetting words at 73 is you have so many stored somewhere I will find another eventually.
Staying mentally active with moderate exercise and a good diet. I read somewhere we don’t forget things more often but we do worry about it more.
I am betting on for at least 90. If you cut across the fairway next time you can beat Bill to the tee. the world needs your writing so hang in there.
Jim, you’re a good model for living in a strong way. I know you exercise and meditate faithfully (Jane Fonda says at our age, exercise is “mandatory.”) When the chips were down, you threw yourself into service for a loved one. Now you are on another journey, and I wish you the greatest happiness.
Other than a few aches and pains (hardly noticeable), I’m enjoying my age. Although just a youngster (59), I too am enjoying the freedom of giving up a lot of the baggage of my youth. I feel that I am able to let go of things that used to bother me and live life more on my terms.
The losing of words does bother me, though. It’s not a completely new phenomenon, but I know it has gotten worse over the years. Sometimes I feel like a walking thesaurus because of all the synonyms I can come up with after brief periods of panic.
Walking thesaurus! Good one, Janis. I just finished the book “Still Alice,” and I’m both reassured and discomfited!
Lynn,
Thank you, I thought I was the only one forgetting words, I am an educator and teaching, talking and words have been part of my life for many years. No one tells us what to expect, as we grow older. I am 60 years old and very surprised that I forget words, have a fear of driving, being out at night, and I didn’t understand the pain in my knee, and back. Where did these pains come from? I never thought I wouldn’t be in a relationship. Thank you everyone for some clarity.
Eleanor, you’re very welcome. I just got back from a day of babysitting our 2 and 4 year old grandbabies. Bill and I. Oh, they’re a treat. Gosh, we enjoy them so much. But now it’s the next morning and I feel like a tractor ran over me. The 2 year old had twin trails of snot (he calls it “not”) and was sneezing, so we’ll maybe get a cold. On the other hand, since you get immune to every strain of cold you ever catch, maybe we’ve had this one and will sail through. I guess that’s a metaphor: older age is a mixed bag.
Stop by again.
I love the photo you have chosen to illustrate your post. It looks an easy path to walk (no uphill mountain trudging!), something beautiful down the track to head towards, with a bit of mystery of the unknown depicted by the mist.
Yes, that is how I see my life at sixty.
Love this post Lynne, and I can relate to most of it. I am zeroing toward the end of my 60s, but still think of myself a lot younger. Thank God I am in good health and eager to keep on keeping on. I love life and most people :), and learning and transforming 🙂
Hi Lynne, You are a kindred spirit — and yes, i DO love being in my 60s (this is the big 65 for me this year so here comes the Medicare). I like this decade for many of the reasons you mentioned: more unfettered time (with no real goals other than the moment), a little more patience (but not all the time) and i am more loving (i think ? better ask my husband, though). I just had cataract surgery on both eyes this month, and i am thrilled to go into this new year with clarity. I jog occasionally, but not very far and i still downhill ski, but not the moguls. I am more afraid to drive on the highway (not sure where that came from) but hey i walk to many places and take the train too. I adore being alone and with my husband as well. I have realized that there is NO new haircut, or new dress, or pair of shoes, or cool jeans that will ever hide my age and that is kinda cool. It is freeing. All the extra stuff is a waste — “i am what i am” (thanks Popeye). I do want to say that i am very grateful to the younger me who landed me here on safe ground, mainly in one piece, with my own home and garden, decent grown-up kids and loving grand kids. I never became a corporate mogul, but my 1/4 acre is paid for. Lastly, i think the greatest part is simply being more creative. . . whether it is art projects, cooking, sewing, writing, whatever — i just let it all come out when it desires, because i can. It is almost like childhood again.
Your post hit on all bases for me. The one I wonder about is the fear. On one hand I am less fearful… of social situations, being “liked”, of being embarrassed and even of being wrong… but I am more fearful of things like walking alone in the dark, falling, the state of the world. I would truly have to say that my interior world has changed so much for the better, but I do wonder about the chemical or experiential reasons for the change. Do men have similar realities? What’s up with all this contentment I feel despite situations that would formerly throw me… and how can I make sure I continue to feel so good ! Old age is a well kept secret!
Well said, Nanci. I have the same fears and contentment. I think for me they come from the same place: an ever-greater realization of my mortality.
I’m 60+ and YES I love this time of my life. I could definitely relate to each item you listed, and I’m looking forward to 70.
Thanks for the affirmation, Sandy. It’s a golden time.
Hi Lynne! I’m two years into my Seventies and want you to know that there is no real reason to fear it, dread it, or rage against it. Life, it seems, only gets better as we continue forward. I’m in love (!!!) with a man I met 45 years ago, has been my lifelong friend and now my partner. We are writing a book together “Sexy At Any Age” to make the effort to redefine what it means to be ELDERLY! Our plans include a trip to the desert to share our message.
Don’t stop writing, my dear!!
Judy, how invigorating your comment is! I feel inspired just to keep up with you. Thanks, my friend!
The “hormone free” thing is especially a pleasure! I love all you wrote here, but that particular part reminded me of my comment to my husband a few weeks ago. I used to get a little wild with hormones, and Oscar-worthy dramatic scenes would follow, with sad little confessionals and apologies within the next day or so. I told my husband that now, at times, I can still feel the very far distant echo of the wildness that used to consume me, but these days it’s just an amusing little thing way off in my peripheral emotions. He could NOT be happier about that, I assured him, than I am!
Dear Anonymous, I let your comment appear because you sound sincere, but I’m normally very uncomfortable doing so. Most bloggers fear anyone who goes by that name. Any Shiny Thing is a place for us to enjoy each others’ thoughts and experiences, so I do hope in the future you’ll feel safe enough to reveal at least some thread of yourself. I’m crossing my fingers you’re not a hacker and going to take down my site. Would you help me out, please, by filling out your Gravatar identity? Thanks.
Thank you, Lynn. This post made me smile. Reaching 60 is a blessing (in 3 days now), I only wish that we were more like Native American tribes who venerated the wise older women. There are some things we have learned that are valuable to the younger people and there are things new to the world that the youngsters can explain to us, we just have to be open to listening.
Beautifully said, Susan. Maybe we boomer women, with the power of our numbers, could begin to act in such a way that younger people think we’re worth venerating. As in, not apologizing for our age either in words or deeds. Happy birthday!
I do agree with the whole post here Lynne.
One thing I do find is that I do not feel quite so invincible now.
I am aware of my life and how precious it is. In my younger years I never worried about the outcome of medical tests etc. While I do not “worry” about them now, I am aware that my body is aging and that that things may go wrong with it. So, I take better care of myself, and , for sure, enjoy everything I do to the fullest.
If being 70 is this much better than 60, I can only hope that being 80 is that much better. LOL
~~Kathleen
Hi Kathleen! Your comment resonates. The other night I was lying in bed, waiting for sleep, and it hit me – what would it feel like to not have that nagging darkness in the back of my mind about my health, and that of my husband? And suddenly I realized this wasn’t how I felt when I was younger. It’s kind of a burden, but like so many other things (and as you say), we learn to distract ourselves and enjoy life anyway.
I love this post, Lynne. Thank you! I especially like your premise, “What if the years after menopause are the only time where hormones don’t mess up our brains?” Even though I still work at a very brain-demanding, full-time job, I still feel the calmness that you mention. Things just don’t seem as dire. I am taking these years of working with much younger female co-workers as a time to impart at least some semblance of knowledge and personal self-care. They are all so wrapped around the axle about guys that I know (in my infinite OLD wisdom) will never be the match for them. I feel their struggles and am happy to not be there anymore. I do hate the word-forgetting thing but I have reached 63 (almost) with very little physical wear and tear so it is a small price to pay for being here this long. Amazing, really.
Mindy, thank you. And I loved the “wrapped around the axle” comment. Made me laugh! Amy Poehler in her new book “Yes, Please,” says this about younger women: “You can watch them throw around their ‘alwayses’ and ‘nevers’ and ‘I’m the kind of person who’s’ and delight in the fact that you are past that point in your life.” Ah, true!
I’m right there with you, Lynne. I think one of the best things about this age is letting go of the concern about what others think and feeling so much less guilty about saying no (there’s a Boomer Haiku coming about this!). Oh, and being able to figure out what you truly want to say no (and yes) to. Great post.
Roxanne, I might have gotten the idea from you in your latest post on http://boomerhaiku.com/im-all-out-of-eggs/
Thanks!
Wow…this really hit home with me. Thank you.
My pleasure, Carol. Thanks for stopping by.