“Maybe the infinite thing is the chance to be who you actually are, in all its complications, in full fragile need, without regret or apology or even complaint” - Ian Brown in “Sixty”

Today, I complete this three-part essay sharing my thoughts on aging that is inspired by Ian Brown’s excellent book, “Sixty”. In much of the first two parts, I explore how my views differ from the author’s. In this final part, I focus more on where our views are more similar. The first part of the essay is available here: http://last100mondays.blogspot.com/2016/09/maybe-this-is-what-part-of-being-alive.html,
and the second part here:
http://last100mondays.blogspot.com/2016/09/best-dreams-may-be-ones-we-least.html

I very much enjoyed the opportunity to share one man’s experience of aging in “Sixty”. Brown is very candid and open about his thoughts and feelings in the book and it was deeply thought provoking for me. As I read what he wrote about regret and disappointment, I was reminded that the ache of life is part of being alive. It seems there will always be some longing for what cannot be or have. Whether that is a wish unrealized, a regret that cannot be resolved, or the longing for those we have lost. I'm not sure whether death will include the replacing of the aching with joy or the realization that the sweetness of the aching was the point. In any case, I am grateful beyond words for the love, joy, and wonder that balance the longing. There is a different kind of sweet ache that comes along with the inexpressible overflowing of my heart with love.

At one point in the book, Brown writes that it is too late at 60 to change his patterns, to take up art, and I hope this isn't true. Much of my plan for retirement involves some change of patterns at 60 and beyond. I am counting on being able to teach the old dog I am some new tricks! I do relate to the idea he shares that traveling with dear friends as we age includes the longing to be close as long as we can, for fear that we may not have another chance. While I hope my wife and I have decades yet to enjoy our travels with our friends, I understand the feeling that Brown is writing about.

Financial concerns seem to be a significant theme for Brown, too, and there I can relate to his worries more directly. I have spent more than a few nights lying awake worried about family finances and whether we have made the right financial decisions as we prepare for my retirement. The financial security of my wife and our children is of utmost importance to me. Having a son with a disability is another thing we share with Ian Brown and his wife, and we’ve made special provisions for him. I am so grateful for my wonderful partner and for the work our financial adviser has done with us! While money will always be a constraint, we will have enough for our needs, some to enjoy travel, and a way to leave a legacy for our children. For some reason, I have the old song “I’ve Got Sixpence” running through my head! As recently as yesterday, I was worried enough to check just one more detail… it turned out to be OK.

Ian Brown does have flashes of hope and sees some reasons for optimism as he journeys through his sixtieth year. I love reading of the joy he finds in time with his family, and especially his daughter. He writes about about compassion, awareness, tolerance and the capacity for solitude, and these thoughts resonate for me. He writes of being “alone but not terrified, alone but not obligated for the gift of that aloneness.”  I love a quote he shares of Knausgaard describing his response to art. “all my reasoning vanished in the surge of energy and beauty that arose in me.” I enjoyed the ordinary moments of relaxation and happiness that he shares in “Sixty”. Time spent in gardens and at the shore, with family and friends, traveling and appreciating nature. He writes of traveling with friends in England and I find myself thinking how much I’d enjoy a holiday like that. Walking in the English countryside in the morning, visiting gardens in the afternoon, eating a big ploughman’s lunch, visiting with dear friends, reading, and writing.

He also writes of the relationship with the self, and the nurturing mother figure being transferred to a relationship with our own body as a teenager. This seems to be an important part of why the aging of his body bothers him so much. For me, it feels like I have identified with my spirit and mind since I was a young man so maybe this is one reason the aging of my body bothers me less. I enjoy my body and the feeling of being alive, walking, swimming, hugging, eating, singing, and so on, but these are physical expressions of who I am inside, and not who I am in and of themselves.

Ian Brown being so different than I am in many ways is part of what makes this book interesting. I get a look into his different experience and I also think about my own experience in considering how it differs and where it is similar. Where his optimism and hope are evident I find the greatest similarities between us. Late in his sixtieth year he speculates about how his life might actually turn out to have meaning. I love that he wrote, “The best dreams may be the ones we least suspect”, and “The shape of my life might emerge out the future mist, and … It might still be a surprise.” He writes of the hope that he will finally wake one day to meet life as it is and make the most of it.

He also writes late in the book that he is ready to go on to something else. I wonder if he will learn to do this in his life. I hope so. For me, while I think there may be things we cannot do as easily as we age, I believe there are also things we choose not to do based on our growing experience and the preferences, and wisdom, we develop. There are also things we are more capable of doing because we have had the opportunity to learn. To learn compassion, forgiveness, and redemption. To become better at recognizing opportunities for joy and wisdom. To learn from our mistakes and disappointments, and from our triumphs and accomplishments, which choices are best for us. To realize that we may always learn more about what matters, and how to be more loving.

Brown writes of his close friends and how much he admires them. He recognizes that there is so much more he would want to say and that we never have enough time to say what we ought to. I certainly feel and think these things myself. For all my clumsy attempts, how can I ever share with my loved ones how deeply and completely I do love them? Even if I took the risk and tried to say all I feel, surely there are no words good enough. Brown focuses on what we ought to say. I try to remember that my best chance of really communicating my love is through my choices and actions. Finally, I think, I must trust that my beloveds know how much I love them. How sharing love with them is what matters most of all to me. I look for comfort, and find some, in the feeling that, if I could truly speak my heart, they might gently say, “Oh, Jim. We know that!”

When Brown writes about spending time with children, wanting to be a grandfather, the books he was reading, and the thoughts they inspired including that life isn't about acquiring money and things, I am with him. He writes, “Maybe the infinite thing is the chance to be who you actually are, in all its complications, in full fragile need, without regret or apology or even complaint”, and it feels so true. I hope his search for meaning and understanding will bring him peace of mind. I hope this for myself as well. Perhaps there is an epiphany somewhere along the path that leads out ahead of us into the blue distance of age that will show us unimagined opportunities for joy, understanding, and love.

I’m glad to have read “Sixty”. While it seems to me that Brown mainly sees the negative space in the scenes of life, and I tend to see the positive, his book helped me think about, and feel, my own awareness of aging and I am glad for that. It is an ongoing journey of discovery and there were some things he shared that resonate strongly for me. I really did like this book, despite my tendency to disagree with the author. In many ways, this is one reason why I liked it so much. Ian Brown writes with great honesty and clarity, and throughout the book he kept me engaged and challenged with important ideas that were worth spending time thinking about.  I'm glad he ended the acknowledgements by recognizing how valuable the love of his family is to him. There we agree. My loved ones fill my life with joy and loving them gives life meaning for me.

In the extraordinarily unlikely event that he should ever happen to read these words, I hope Mr. Brown will accept my thanks for these past three months of reflection. Most of all, I thank my book buddy, Cathy, for suggesting the book to me. I take great joy in sharing books with her. I will go into retirement with my heart and my mind open hoping this chapter of my life will include more time with all my loved ones. I’ll close with the quote from the book that I used to begin this three-part essay “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.”

(The photo at the top of this week's essay is of my parents)