Earlier today, I watched CBS’ Sunday Morning. There was a segment on their correspondent, Susan Spencer, learning to ride a unicycle. Susan had just reached a milestone birthday (she didn’t indicate which one but I suspect it was her 60th). She was determined to learn something new – and daring. She found a woman on the Internet who has been unicycling for more than 25 years. Despites falls and missteps, Susan had a ball learning to ride the unicycle.
As I watched the segment, it finally dawned on me that I am one who has not let age, or the calendar, define who I am and my capabilities. As I’m marching toward a milestone birthday, several friends my age had made comments such as: “you know our life is more than half over;” “our best days are behind us:” “I’m too old to do that;” and my least favorite, “people our age don’t do that.” I say, psssh to all of that. Who said so? I have a friend who retired at age 52 with “no intention to ever work again.” Since then, he spends his days sprawled in his recliner with his remote in hand.
The dictionary defines retire as: to withdraw, to remove oneself, to fall back or retreat. Using these definitions, I don’t ever want to retire from life. I see life as a journey that has many paths, many chapters, many adventures. More than six years ago, I decided to make a career change at an age that many of my contemporaries were contemplating retirement in ten years or more. I am truly my mother’s child. My mother, in her 8th decade of living, is always up for a new journey, hobby or adventure. I always say were it not for her arthritis, she would bunjy jump. She has a desktop computer, a laptop and most recently purchased a tablet. A voracious reader, she’s always finding some new technology that interests her or a new hobby that she’ll pursue. I’m like my Mom. I decided - and not even consciously, it’s how I’m wired - that I’m going to pursue what interests me.
I suspect that this idea of slowing down as one enters their 50’s is primarily a Western custom. We work, work, work, then we retire to the armchair or recliner with the remote in hand. No wonder we die earlier than our contemporaries in other countries/cultures. We ride our cars everywhere, eat processed foods because we’re so busy with work to cook wholesome meals, we chase material things – the new car, the bigger house, the more expensive vacations – only to retire, withdraw.
I don’t let the calendar define, or limit, me. Life is for the living. For me, there’s no such thing as preparing for the end of my life, certainly not by withdrawing from life. As long as I’m blessed with good health and the ability to try and experience new things, I’m going to do just that. I know two languages, I want to learn an additional three: Spanish, Portuguese and Arabic. I want to start a business, or two. I want to start a foundation to assist the homeless. I want to travel. I want to learn, finally, to swim. And so much, much more.
Nearly thirty years ago, I talked with an elderly woman in the produce department of the local grocery store. After telling me how to prepare spaghetti squash, she told me that she learned it from an old Italian woman and concluded with “chile I’ll be learning until the day I’m laying in my grave.” I’m that elderly woman. I will be learning and enjoying this journey called life until the day they close the casket lid.
Be Blessed!
T
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