“Maybe this is what part of being alive is about, and why I can never regret that I was, even if it has to end one day.” - Ian Brown in “Sixty”

Today, I begin a three-part essay reflecting on my experience of the process of aging. Certainly, this is relevant as I look forward to retirement and hope to enjoy that next stage of my life as a healthy, aging, man. Many of my thoughts are inspired by having slowly read Ian Brown’s book, “Sixty”, at bedtime over the past three months. In the end I find myself more optimistic than he is and grateful to have spent this time with his thoughts and feelings about his sixtieth year.

Some of what I’m writing today, I’ve drawn from comments I wrote in letters as I read the book. I still enjoy writing “old school” letters and sending them through the mail and I’ve been enjoying sharing my thoughts about “Sixty” with the dear friend who suggested this book to me. I find writing to friends one of the best ways to relax, and to explore my thoughts and feelings, and I’m grateful to have friends happy to receive and read my, rather long, letters!

Ian Brown sees the years past sixty as “The final frontier where you will either find the thing your heart has always sought, which you have never able to name, or you won't”, and this resonates for me in a way that is tied up with the search for meaning. He holds out the hope that having looked hard for that will have been enough and I hope it will. That doing all I can to live the love I feel as honestly, and caringly, as I can may be enough. That being truly loving will allow me to make amends for the harm I’ve done, to find the peace of mind, heart, and soul to accept the mistakes I’ve made that broke things in ways that cannot be mended, and, most importantly, to leave no doubt in the hearts of my beloveds that I have loved them with all that I am in the best way I could, and always will.

Brown seems significantly more concerned about the physical effects of aging, on many levels, than I am. He worries as he travels from 60 to 61 about his physical attractiveness, sexual performance, changes in his various organs and bodily systems, memory, skin, hair, and heart. He reads, and worries, about the neurophysiology of the aging brain. As he laments the physical effects of aging and grapples with the question of age and sexual behavior, he seems to focus on how much, how often, and differences between the larger groups of men and women.  He seems so focused on the physical and I can see why this would lead him to worry.

I find myself looking at these issues in a different context. While I accept that there are physical changes and limitations for my aging body, I also see myself as so much more than physical. My heart, mind, and soul have grown and will continue growing. While physical intimacy is a wonderful way to share a special closeness, I’m glad it is not necessary to be sexual to be intimate. I’ve never seen the point of a sexual relationship without emotional intimacy in any case. I imagine that what is more important is the full, rich, range of the personal intimate experiences of each individual, and not simply the physical experience, or the aggregate statistics. I’m glad that, as Brown struggles with the changes of aging, he also appreciates the fall colors of the trees, and is able to remember that he had a crush on one of his 5th grade teachers.

I also think a lot about changes in my heart, but not on a physiological level. I have seen my capacity for love and compassion grow, and my awareness of others become sharper, and more nuanced over time. I wonder how our choices allow us to be more or less intimate in our own relationships as we age, whatever form that intimacy takes? I’m glad there are many loving ways to grow, and to be, close.

In the end, I think maintaining strong, loving connections with others will help aging be a healthier, more positive experience. We will age, and we will do our best with what we have. I am so grateful to have lasted this long and to have a future ahead to share with my loved ones. I'll make the most of this chance whatever time and age have in store for me.

Brown writes of having learned that, while short-term memory declines with age, longer-term “crystallized intelligence”, or wisdom, remains longer and may grow. He also writes that slowing down and attending to details may help with retaining memory and cognitive function. This gives me hope. Maybe I’m on a good path with my old-school letters, reflecting, observing, rock garden of memories, and “Do You Remember?” essays!

As I read “Sixty”, I often found Ian Brown comparing himself with others. I have surely indulged in this myself at times, but I haven’t found it very helpful. As he made these comparisons, and found himself wanting, our guilty at having made them to find himself superior to others, I wished he could hear some kind friend reassure him that, with his own fine qualities, he is enough. I know I could struggle as he does if I compared myself to others. To Pierce Brosnan, Tom Cruise, and other men the women around me point to as attractive or desirable. To younger men who might appear to have more to offer physically; being in better shape, better looking, more energetic. To my own younger self, and aspects of my younger self and life that were arguably better than my experiences and abilities today. I could worry about my thinning hair, wrinkles, and so many other things.

I don't choose to do this. It doesn’t seem to hold the promise of greater happiness or satisfaction. I find myself thinking of the lines in Max Ehrmann’s “Desiderata” that read “If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.”  Instead of making these narrow comparisons, I prefer to look at the bigger picture. If the questions are “How have I changed?” and “How am I changing now?”, I prefer to look beyond my skin, hair, virility, and physical flexibility and endurance.

I seek to see and assess myself as a whole person. There is no question that in some physical ways I am less than what I was. At the same time, I have greater knowledge and understanding, empathy and compassion, joy and love than at any prior time in my life. While I am growing physically less over time, as a person with a body, mind, heart, and soul, I am growing to be more each day. I am gaining wisdom, enjoying the deepest friendships, and the sweetest love of my life. I am making choices each day, some of them very hard, to do what is right. I have every reason to be happy and satisfied. This book certainly gave me lots to think about! I’ll continue these thoughts next Monday.

(The photo at the top of this week's essay is of my mother and father with her parents)

Part two of this essay is available at http://last100mondays.blogspot.com/2016/09/best-dreams-may-be-ones-we-least.html