My friend Charlie (Professor) Stirton – formerly Director of the National Botanical Garden of Wales – sent me yesterday a copy of a talk he’d given to the Church in Wales in 2002. As ever I got about four pages in and stopped because he’d just given me a big thought – you know, the kind of thought that forces you to stop and, well – think; really think. Charlie does big thoughts – which is probably why I enjoy talking to him so much. Anyway, in the course of his paper he raised the issue of the way in which the Church (and I think he had society in general in his sights) is not very good at celebrating the great turning points in life with ceremony; what we in the trade call liturgy. So far so obvious, you might think, but what he drew from that – the occasions demanding recognition – went beyond the usual births deaths and marriages and talked about growing old. The crises of life; being born; entering puberty; falling in love, and possibly dying too – (although as Wittgenstein pointed out – “death is not an event in life”) – are all catered for, but growing old certainly is an event in life and for the most part we turn away from it; refuse to think about it and regard it as if it might be contagious. Can you even imagine your friends and especially your children wanting to celebrate the “dying of the light“? And so it becomes the thing we can’t talk about and it becomes the one major life event we usually travel alone. Yes we have hospices and they do wonderful work, but I’m not writing here about dying I’m writing about the autumn that precedes it; the inexorable minor irritations that can make us grumpy; arthritic hands and knees, irregular heart rhythms, vivid nightmares and the memories of old hurts and failures, loss of vigour and suchlike. Wisdom, sagacity can be a poor reward for struggling breathlessly up a flight of stairs and in any case the last thing most younger people want is the benefit of your accumulated experience. Growing old; the period between retirement and senility can feel like the prologue to an ultimate redundancy without compensation. A mystery tour where you see immediately the driver is as drunk as a skunk and the satnav has broken. What – really what is there to build a celebration around in all this?
But first, here’s a phrase that sticks in my mind from a lecture I attended many years ago. I was working as an Art Therapist at an old fashioned mental hospital. This was in the early days before Art Therapy had been codified, given diagnostic references and its very own theology. We had a talk from a professor of gerontology (the study of old age) and his opening remarks have never left me.
“Remember this” he said “…. “miserable young people make miserable old people”.
In other words – don’t wait to sort your shit until it’s too late. Or as Aristotle and most of the great religious teachers might have said more philosophically – human flourishing depends on right habits. So if you’re in your mid thirties – let’s say – in the years of your pomp – but not really enjoying life as much as you thought you would when you went after all those promotions and bonuses; don’t fall into the trap of kicking happiness down the road because the road might not get you as far as bucket lists and dream retirements. Right habits can be acquired but also need to be practised day by day. For some odd reason our culture teaches us to denigrate habits (boring and repetitive) but glorify feelings. However – sincerely believing that a very stupid or immoral act is right because it feels right – however sincerely that belief is held – is profoundly misguided. Doing the right thing demands consistency and practice so it’s best to start as young as possible.
So once you have reached the age when your inbox is looking less crowded, I think one necessary thing is to absolutely refuse to play along with all the OAP stereotypes. We need to find a form of what the Roman Catholic church wisely renamed as reconciliation in the late 20th century, which doesn’t even think about absolving us from all the hurt and shitstorms we’ve created in our younger days, but reconciles us to ourselves, our victims and and our lost and abandoned lovers. The dying of the light can only be accomplished well with a mind at peace.
We must learn to live completely in the moment, opening our arms to the occasional joys that come our way. Yesterday we talked to a friend whose sister had re-found love after a fifty year marriage followed by bereavement, but even a returned smile can make the sun come out for us.
Today, on the allotment we harvested courgettes, apples, aubergines, tomatoes and basil and, as I write this Madame is in the kitchen preparing supper for us; but as any gardener knows, we also have to weather our failures as well as celebrate our successes. This has been a truly difficult season and there have been moments when we wondered whether it was worth all the disappointments. But coping with failure without going under is a tremendously important life-skill – especially when the wheels begin to drop off.
But so far as Charlie’s challenge to find the equivalent of a marriage or naming ceremony to mark and celebrate the onset of old age as a distinct and potentially rewarding stage in life – that demands an enormous cultural reset. When I retired from paid work, I had a sweater made with the words “I’m not old, I’m experienced!” but Madame thought it was provocative (as if!), and I’ve hardly worn it.
So thanks Charlie – for an excellent question, and now I’ll get back to reading the rest of your presentation.
