Personal Observation on Aging

 

Reading "Le Figaro" by Mary Cassatt 1878

Besides my own experience of aging, I’ve read two books recently the themes of which have led me to reflect on the journey to Beyond that may include aging and aging some more and finally just being OLD!

That’s where I find myself now. In less than two weeks, I will celebrate my 86^th birthday. I had such plans for my eighties. So many books I wanted to write and share with readers. So many friends here and there with whom I wanted to stay in touch—to know what was happening in their lives, how aging was going for them. Had they found contentment, fulfillment, the heartwish at the end of the rainbow of a long life?

 

For me, the decade of the eighties began well. I wrote daily, not with any idea of self-publishing but simply because to write was to be in the present and in Presence. Writing is quite simply a form of prayer for me in which I discover the Holy Oneness of All Creation. That is, I discover that, in truth, all has worked out for good throughout my life no matter what tragedy . . . sorrow . . . setback . . . loss has occurred.

 

This does not happen unless in Oneness others have supported or consoled me. Rejoiced with me. Grieved with me. Been there when my mind was muddled; my heart bruised; my spirit depleted. All who raised me; all who taught and educated me; all who have befriended me are with me still whether living or in the mystery and grace of Beyond. 

 

Yes, the eighties began well. The first two years, I worked on a memoir. Unable to interest an agent in representing my writing, I decided—with the help of two other women—to self-publish. My niece Linda took my words and made books; Sally, a long-time friend, created covers.  

 

So, in 2018, the three of us worked together to publish Prayer Wasn’t Enough: A Convent Memoir.That same year, we came out with new editions of A Cat’s Life: Dulcy’s Story and A Cat’s Legacy: Dulcy’s Companion Book.

 

The Life book had been published twenty-five years before. For its anniversary, I wrote a reflection on how the book first got published. For the Legacy book, my niece did new formatting that made the book more appealing visually. 

 

Thus, 2018, when I was 82, was both busy and fulfilling.

 

In 2019, the three of us published the novel The Reluctant Spy, on which I’d worked, off and on, for twenty years. Also, that year we managed to produce another cat book—The Gift of Nine Lives—which I’d written in my late seventies.

 

Then . . . nothing. Not because I had nothing I wanted to write, but because I couldn’t find the motivation . . . commitment . . . energy to journey for months, or maybe years, with another book. 

 

What does this have to do with aging?

 

My observation: The furnace of accomplishment that had always flamed within me no longer warms the room in which I now reside at almost 86. For years as a free-lancer, I met numerous deadlines; worked fourteen hours a day, seven days a week for a month; rested, recouped, and then began the next project.

The Fisher Girl by Winslow Homer 1894

No more. I could say that my mental capacities have waned. Or that my energy has withered. Or that I no longer cherish what used to fill me with wonder.

 

And maybe some of that is true. However, what is also true is that I want less responsibility. I resist being tied down to a schedule—no matter how flexible it is. I want to sit on the screened-in porch and let my mind and heart embrace with gratitude the wonder of my life. Or, simply become absorbed in the story another writer has fashioned.

 

In two weeks, I hope to say more about aging. More in general, not the specifics of my life. 

 

Peace until then. 

 

Both paintings from Wikipedia articles on Mary Cassatt and Winslow Homer