Thank F**k I'm Old

It seems I only have to wait 24 more years until I reach the age of contentment which according to a recent study is 74. European scientists have published a report that claims happiness peaks at the age of 74. Now this is very good news for those of us hurtling towards that number with, what sometimes feels like breakneck speed, that being officially old is not the one foot in the grave most of us youngsters feel it will be. Providing we escape dementia, incontinence, cancer, arthritis and the many other ailments that can afflict us as we age we have something really good to look forward to in our dotage.

My own mother is 74 and she is fortunate enough to be in good health. None of her joints seem to ache, and, although she could do with losing some weight, she appears to be in robust health - much to her chagrin as I am sure she would enjoy some ailment - nothing too serious but something she could moan about. She warns me that when I speak to my dad, a mere 70, that I refrain from enquiring about his health as he will spend the next half hour listing all his aches and pains and moaning about his lack of good health. My dad, a non smoker and tee totaller has had ill health, including a dalliance with cancer, whilst my mum, once a heavy smoker and still a lover of 'a drink' has managed to avoid any major health issues.

Growing old is something we cannot avoid - unless we die before we're old. It is one of the processes over which we have no control. Buddhism declares that there are five processes of which no human being has control and which none can ever change. These five processes are namely, the process of growing old, of not falling sick, of dying, of decay of things that are perishable and of the passing away of that which is liable to pass. Buddhism however suggests that escape from these is possible and it's through Nirvana.

None of us stay the same. Physically we change. Mentally we change. Spiritually we change. Each of us change as we grow older. It is almost as if our inner self goes through a process of metamorphosis and each change will lead to another. Cells within our bodies are continuously renewing. Impermanence and change are the undeniable truths of our existence.

Our life's are made up of a childhood, an adulthood and an old age. The child is not the same as the old woman, although the essence of the child may remain. How we live and what is important to us will change and what makes us happy, what makes us feel safe, will change also. Old age is meant to be a time of contentment. Providing you have your health and are not living in poverty old age can be the age of freedom. Free from parents controlling us, free from having to earn a living and being responsible for children. Free from the constraints that bind the young, the passionate and the foolish.

Ms Moon, Berkeley writer and long time Zen student, has written a new book entitled 'This is Getting Old: Zen Thoughts on Aging with Dignity and Humor.' The book is a collection of personal essays (blogs?) that emerged from her concerns about her own aging. Ms Moon used her fear of growing old to examine and challenge the negative opinions about old age and decided to write a book in the Zen spirit of 'not turning away from what's difficult.' She found the devaluation of older people in our society is woven into the very language. She asks 'Why would being 'young at heart' be better than being old at heart? Wouldn't it be wonderful to have an old heart seasoned with wisdom and experience?' Ms Moon talks about how older people, in particular women, become invisible in our culture. This can be a painful experience,especially for women who once turned heads wherever they went. Ms Moon says that growing old means you 'can relax a little bit'(let yourself go?) She says she looks forward to increasing 'freedom from what other people think.'

Wisdom and compassion are the two foundations of Buddhist practice, and old age can be a time to cultivate both. We cannot help but be more aware of the impermanence of all things when we witness it in our very bodies. Ms. Moon says, 'Awareness of my own mortality makes me want to be present in my life.' Ms Moon writes about the joy of becoming a grandparent. I feel it is worth growing old just to be able to experience this amazing honour and Ms Moon quotes Dogen, the fourteenth century Zen teacher, who recommended the cultivation of the 'grandmother mind' for everyone, even his young monks.

Maybe once you pass 70 every morning that you wake seems like a gift. Maybe when you accept your own immortality it makes each day a bonus and you instinctively begin to enjoy life more or appreciate the small things like a particularly good meal or a well put together, entertaining television programme. I certainly hope I get to find out.

An old school friend emailed me this week to say he is getting used to having turned 50 but goes on to say 'I've been trying to think of a way to leave my mark on the world, but given my limited potential can't seem to think how I might achieve that beyond killing lots of people! Any suggestions?'. Now this guy has a healthy loving family and lives in a beautiful part of the world, he does a job he enjoys and on the whole he is content with his lot. But he as reached 50 and is getting scared of being old, of dying and being forgotten. He wants to 'leave his mark'. What counts as a mark? Does a doctor, saving life's, or a teacher, inspiring children, or a volunteer aid worker, helping people somewhere like Tathi, leave a mark? Writers, film makers, composers, singers? Do they leave a mark? Who will remember us, those who are none of these things? If being a loving husband and father, if being a good friend, if working hard, if caring for and having an interest in the world in which we live is not leaving a mark then I suggested he start a blog. He writes well and one day someone, a great great great grandchild may come across it and what they read may enlighten them. Most blogs are mediocre and serve no purpose to anyone else but the writer. But a few are well written, informative, relevant and thought provoking. And some leave their mark.


The Guardians Book Blog recently invited commenter's to submit poems on growing old. I read as many as I could before giving up as they were all so negative and painted a grim picture of aging.


So here is a cheerful little ditty by me:


Thank fuck I ain't a teenager anymore,

Acne on a once smooth cheek and hairs

where they shouldn't be.

Thank fuck I ain't in my 20s anymore,

Dating the wrong sort and wearing

stockings to please.

Thank fuck I ain't in my 30s anymore

Sleepless nights, school runs and

not having any sex.

Thank fuck I ain't in my 40s anymore

waiting for life to begin and

starting to have regrets.

Thank fuck I ain't in my 50s anymore

fighting middle age spread and

losing.

Thank fuck I ain't in my 60s anymore

wrinkles on once smooth cheeks and

hairs where they shouldn't be.

Thank fuck I'm old

for now I can live in the moment

and not feel guilty.