Turning Sixty-Five

Sixty-Four
Herman Schouwenburg

I've been thinking of getting another tattoo. That's what I did 15 years ago when I turned 50. It wasn't because I was trying to act like a twenty-year old by demonstrating that I could be outrageous, rebellious and unconventional. But rather it was because entering my fifties was an exciting and energizing time for me. I needed a rite of passage and unfortunately they're hard to come by in our culture. So instead I got a tattoo.

And now here I am at the threshold of my 65th birthday. It's time for another rite of passage. Something a little more momentous than signing up for Medicare (although for the time being I guess that will have to do.)



I need something that gives the lie to the ubiquitous notion in our youth-obsessed culture that getting old is about the worst thing that could happen to a person. It's probably more of a problem for women who are terrified about losing their youthful figures, their youthful skin, their youthful appearances. And I'll be the first to admit that it was an awfully lot of fun being able to prance around in a body that looked a lot more attractive than the one I'm currently inhabiting. I think about that sometimes when I'm in the shower room at the gym, changing out of my "mature-cut" swimming suit back into my shapeless jeans and baggy sweatshirt while all around me sleek young bodies clad in thong underwear are stepping into skin tight pants and sleeveless tops with plunging necklines.

And I'll admit that sometimes I'd love to have just a few hours of being young again - just so I could get all dolled up in a clingy little red dress, with my hair loose around my shoulders and best of all... a pair of very VERY high heel shoes to slip my pedicured feet into.

But I wouldn't want to walk around that way for very long. It's because, strange as this probably sounds, I prefer being older. For one thing, I've always known I'd end up here if I lived long enough. And as a younger woman I used to wonder what kind of older woman I would turn out to be.


The thought intrigued me because I sensed that I would still be the same person I've always been...only more so! And it was intriguing to speculate about what the "more so" would consist of. Now I think I have a better idea.

Old Woman Reading
Gerrit Dou

I suspect the "more so" part of being at the threshold of old age has to with taking advantage of what I've learned through all the years that have brought me here. Like the art of paying attention and why it's worth slowing down in order to do it. Like the importance of cutting people a little slack instead of expecting them to do things my way all the time. Like how counterproductive it is to persist in thinking I actually can be in control of everything I would like to be in control of. Like the realization that there is usually more good in a person than his or her own worst fault. Like the ability to trust that my deepest intuition usually turns out to be true - and that applies to everything from the things I believe (and disbelieve) about God to the decisions I make about how to spend my money.

Old Woman Playing a Flute
Lambert Jacobsz

Of course what really matters about the things we learn is the extent to which we're able to use them. Most likely I'll be given plenty of opportunities to do that now that I am about to turn 65 - an age that society deems the official entry point into bono fide old age. Especially since I've heard it said again and again by those who have been there that it's hell to be old.

And yet I'm reminded of those children's stories with fairy godmothers that arrived whenever a newborn prince or princess was christened. With a wave of their magic wands they would leave behind a special gift that would endow the sleeping infant with special qualities and abilities he or she would be needing in order to live a happy life.

Standing here on the threshold of what many people would just as soon avoid at all costs, it might be nice to have a fairy godmother handy. But I know that living a happy life has nothing to do with fairy godmothers and everything to do with the values, attitudes and insights we acquire over the years. And so I'm hoping I've learned a thing or two that I'll be able to take along with me from here on out....things any sensible fairy godmother would want to leave behind for anyone approaching a 65th birthday.....Things like....






.....resiliency in order to cope with physical changes and health problems instead of complaining about them

....flexibility in order to deal with what simply can't be anticipated

...determinationn to live as serenely as possible with paradox and ambiguity

...strength to cope with pain and loss and grief

...discernment in order to recognize the difference between what can be changed and what can't

...tolerance of those whose visions, values, and points of view are different from my own

...reverence and gratitude for everyone and everything that brings joy and beauty into my life

I hope these are the kinds of things I can take with me, along with another tattoo, now that I'm about to turn sixty-five because I have a feeling that without them I won't have much of a shot at turning into what I want to be when I grow up....a wise old woman.

Baba-Yaga

Donna Merchant-Crooks