Aging and the 'three Rs'...

“My life is but a vapor, here for a moment. Then it vanisheth

away, and like the flower of the grass, it shall fade away.”

– Billy Hooten music and words: adapted from

James 4:14, Bible

My friend Bill and I have been meeting weekly for a number of years. We have missed connecting from time to time, but for the most part, we keep in contact.

We began getting together when I lived in San Diego. In that day, it was Panera’s Bread for early morning coffee and hot chocolate. After moving to Arizona, the Panera's meetings ended. We decided the way to keep this going was over the Internet, so we began Skyping, Saturday mornings at 6:15.

The great thing about early morning video calls is that you don't even have to get dressed. Tee shirts and coffee cups are pretty much all that are needed. We hold our chats to an hour, mostly because Bill is a serious bike rider and needs to get on the road.

The conversations are never scripted. There are no agendas. We show up, nod to the muses of the universe and let ‘er rip. Once in a while we talk about professional things, but for the most part, our conversations are free-flowing, as ideas bounce randomly around the gray matter between our ears.

Our interaction is a little like writing these weekly pieces. They generally begin with an idea, but as the words appear on the page, they start to take a life of their own, going in directions you wouldn't imagine. When this happens, it is almost impossible to get back to the originating thought. Fighting the direction and flow feels like walking against the current of knee-deep water in a swiftly flowing stream. It’s better just to let it go where it wants to.

This is what happened with Bill and I a couple of weeks ago. Actually, it became a little more focused then. The threads of this conversation had been going on for quite some time.

The two of us are relatively similar in age age. He is older, but he looks younger (to me) and is much more nimble of mind. I hardly ever leave a conversation with him, where he hasn’t left me thinking for several days about something we discussed.

This chat revolved around three things that fellows our age think about with increasing frequency: Reality of life changes, Retirement from the work to which we have dedicated substantial life force, and whether the preceding two thoughts provided a life of relevance. More importantly, will our lives after the reality of retirement be relevant?

Reality…

It’s clear that all sorts of things change from the effects of time and gravity. The lost robustness of bygone years becomes abundantly clear. Perceptual senses diminish. Reductions in hearing, sight, touch, smell and taste, become noticeable. Strength, balance, endurance and flexibility slip away like the slowly incremental movement of the hour hand on a clock. Our ability to focus for extended periods of time becomes more difficult and requires more effort and work.

We can, of course, slow the course of Father Time, through diet, exercise, proper sleep, and management of life stressors, but decelerating does not mean stopping. Active life management just contributes to a more quality, yet terminal experience.

Retirement…

Bill is still at it full-time. He is one of the more dedicated professionals I know. After seeing patients all day, he takes home arms full of charts to complete in the never-ending cycle of work.

I, on the other hand, am in semi-retirement. I no longer have day-to-day clinical responsibilities. This allows me to consult when I want and speak professionally with a little more freedom. If, however, retirement means resting with feet up, and a cold drink in hand, I am far from retiring.

One of the reasons we keep working is that we are uncertain what we would do if we actually retired. Maybe it is the specter of the word ‘retirement’ that we resist. In our generation, it carried the idea of stopping work and with no life focus, drifting off into the sunset. Neither of us wants to go quietly into the night.

Relevance…

This brings us to the word, few guys our age talk about with each other, but weighs heavily on our minds. Have our lives been relevant and what about the time ahead?

Men are generally defined by the work they do.  It’s not particularly ‘what’ our job is, but rather that we are employed in the citizenry of the social body. There is comfort, safety really, in being able to say, “I am a <fill in the blank>.”

Like the identification we carry in our wallets, ‘work’ is an unconscious safety net. If you have ever lost your wallet, you will appreciate how ‘naked’ you feel when there is nothing that identifies you other than your word. Without identification, you can do very little. For example, try getting on a plane, opening a bank account, writing a check, or driving a car.

This is the feeling many men fear. Our jobs, family, projects, professional activities have been a metaphor for life’s ID card. What now that the card has expired? Once untethered, what will our lives be?

Is there a point?

One of the things about friendship is the therapeutic nature of talking. In particular, talking about things that trouble or concern us. It is in communion, we realize others have similar feelings, doubts, and fears…that we can comfort and strengthen one another.

There is nothing we can do to stop time and gravity. Talking about these issues, however, has a way of putting them into perspective. It brings front and center the notion that while the parts we have might be different, the 'play' ends the same way for all of us – resistance futile. Open communication is a calming tonic. After all, it is all about attitude. Embracing what is ahead, rather than fighting it is the key. Like the birth we had and the air we breathe, it is just the cycle of life. And that is relevant!

- ted