Growing Old: The Inner Work

Fifteen years ago I was 55 and I was drawn to begin some of the inner work of aging. I didn't think of myself as old then. In fact the idea of being old scared me terribly. I knew I was unprepared for it. It occurred to me that I should begin some kind of investigation that might increase my self understanding. So I started an archeological excavation into the beliefs, patterns, conflicts, aspirations and dreams that have formed my memories and my ideas of myself.

I didn't know it then, but I had begun one of the tasks of aging--life review, part of which is seeking the meaning of one's life. The artifacts I've unearthed in my digging have borne quite a bit of scrutiny and reflection over the years. I've traveled through a lot of difficult territories. I'm sure you have your own versions of these places in your heart and soul and you know as well as I do that some rivers can be rather difficult to ford, some shadows hard to face and befriend. I've found that this work has been full of healing; it's led to the softening of long-tied knots, with the help of the waters of empathy, forgiveness and compassion. Life review is a practice that continues to be full of blessings, insight and surrender. I'm a believer.

According to Carl Jung there are 7 tasks of aging:

1. Facing the reality of aging and dying
2. Life review
3. Defining life realistically
4. Letting go of the ego
5. Finding new rooting in the Self
6. Determining the meaning of one’s life
7. Rebirth – dying with life

As you can see, these are serious pieces of earthly business. Letting go of the ego, for instance. Not exactly a Bingo level activity, though I'm sure it could happen playing Bingo, especially if you'd done some prep work.

Defining life realistically--what does this mean to you? I read it as the task of adjusting to the current situation of one's body and mind, which may be different from what it was at 25 or 45. Facing the reality of aging and dying, now that is something much denied in our society where so many people continue to try to pass for young into old age and live in denial that they will ever die.

To me finding new rooting in the Self means going deeper, spending more time in contemplation and reflection. I have to confess that I've never really understood the phrase "dying with life" described in the 7th task. Maybe I am just not old enough yet.

I had a visit with a good friend last summer. She is a keenly intelligent, very spiritual woman who now resides in an assisted living residence because of neurological difficulties. She describes aging as "an exercise in letting go and accepting."


"It's moving into a different state of being," she tells me, "shifting the focus from the outer world, releasing the worldly cuccoon, just unzipping and stepping out. It's very liberating, coming to some level of essence and finding contentment with what is."

My conversations with her remind me that the tasks of later life are quite spiritual in nature. Even if a person continues to be active and engaged in the world, there's a natural turning within as one ages. Unless of course, one remains infatuated with activity as an end in itself which seems to be such an obsession in the modern world. Then one can miss out on the harvest opportunity that the later years provide.

In his book Nature and the Human Soul, Bill Plotkin comments "True adulthood, or psychological maturity, has become an uncommon achievement in Western or Westernized societies, and genuine elderhood nearly nonexistent." Plotkin describes our society as pathologically adolescent, divorced from nature and soul. To Plotkin, real maturity is not based on chronological age; he defines maturity as living in a profound, ecologically aware interconnectedness with nature.

Living a long time is a blessing, and those who live a long life and also enrich the world with their wisdom, patience and balance bring an even deeper blessing. Maturation takes inner work. Inner work requires spending time in reflection, contemplation, healing, meditation and prayer. Quiet time. Slow time. Time in Nature. Which our society, so obsessed with production and materialism, both longs for and disdains.

In her book Slow is Beautiful Cecile Andrews describes how slowing down and living simply encourages community and individual happiness. That sounds and feels just about right to me.

I like to imagine/visualize/feel a society filled with elders who are slow and deep as beautiful old rivers, slow and rooted as beautiful old forests, elders who are deep, loving, firm, wise and fierce when need be. Sending blessings on your head and heart. May your inner and outer works flourish.

Monday Mysteries of the Here and Now

"Developing tenderness towards yourself allows you to see both your problems and your potential accurately. You don't feel that you have to ignore your problems or exaggerate your potential. That kind of gentleness towards yourself and appreciation of yourself is very necessary. It provides the ground for helping yourself and others."--Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

Tenderness towards myself is my motif this morning. A cloudy morning after a night that found me thinking of my various artistic projects and my spiritual life. I was thinking of how much dedication and persistence it takes to develop and create things.

Carolyn Myers, one of my dearest friends, visited me yesterday. She's in the midst of developing with her friend Terry Baum a new venture, Theatre of the Crackpot Crones. "Two pioneer funny feminists in a theatrical revue of sketch comedy and improvisation," their pr material states. Carolyn has written award-winning plays and is a hilariously funny improvisational comedian. Incredibly talented. She deserves wide recognition and beaucoup bucks. I hope that happens for her.

She gave me a tarot reading with a new transparent deck. It was very positive regarding my creative work. But that didn't stop me from getting a bit grouchy a few hours after she left. Maybe I should blame it on spring fever and being a bit stir-crazy from my housebound life while my foot heals. I am out of the wheelchair and now using a walker. But I still found myself thinking about what it would be like to put things on hold and live in another country for a few months.

During our visit, Carolyn and I talked about our mutual friend Julie who just spent several months in Parphing, Nepal. I was thinking about how great it would be to spend time living in a culture where religious practice is a well-accepted way of life. I'd like to be able to walk around with my mala (rosary) and not have people give me dirty looks as if praying in public is some kind of affront. Which does happen here. There is a kind of religious oppression here, an insistence on the secular ethic. Which is quite odd for a country which was founded on religious freedom. Another friend spent months working in the clinic associated with a monastery an hour outside of Khatmandu. She talked about the mountains, the stillness, the monastic community and how peaceful it was to be there and be of service in the clinic, with plenty of time to do spiritual practice. In Nepal, people my age have the freedom to rest and turn within, focusing on their spiritual practice. It's built into the culture. Older people are not trying to engage in outer accomplishments the way we do here. I could go there and do that, too. Those were my thoughts last night.

"Tomorrow is another day," as my mother used to say when things got a big ragged. And so it is. I just had my weekly mutual coaching session with my friend Mouna, which is part of our Artist Conference Network work. In the session, I took a new stand. "I am real from the heights to the depths." It's good when being real includes tenderness towards myself, especially when things get stirred up, as they do at times. Being real could include a journey to Nepal to experience that way of life. Meanwhile, whether or not I take that outer journey, I continue to take the time to meditate, pray and drop into places of deep relaxation and healing right here and now.

I was inspired to discover Tao Porchon Lynch, a 91-year old who teaches yoga at her center in Westchester, New York. Her gentle way of being and joie de vivre are quite delightful. She provides a vivid example of health, balance and gladness.