Zest, indeed!

Posted on March 10, 2022 by Blog Mavens

Ellen Cole, Age 81

Just in time for her 81st birthday and in anticipation of her retirement from Russell Sage College where she is Professor of Psychology, The University of Pennsylvania published this interview with 70Candles’ Ellen.
Zest, indeed!

Dr. Ellen Cole (Master of Applied Positive Psychology ‘11) remembers the moment she learned about positive psychology. It was 1998, the year Master of Applied Positive Psychology (MAPP) founder Martin E. P. Seligman presented his vision for a new psychology in his presidential address at the American Psychological Association annual convention. Ellen, an established counseling psychologist and longtime APA member, was moved. “It was a turning point for me,” she recalls. “Psychologists had been very good at figuring out what’s wrong with people, but not so good at figuring out how to live fulfilling lives. I wondered, why hadn’t I thought of this?” More than ten years later, while writing a letter of recommendation for a friend and colleague who was applying for the MAPP program, Ellen decided to submit her own application as well. “It was a mission,” she says. “I just had to do it.”

Ellen was 69 years old when she started the program; she had already served as a professor and a dean as well as a sex therapist and sex educator. Yet she felt both challenged by the program—for example, while augmenting her qualitative research background with quantitative skills—and respected by its faculty. “I loved being a student in MAPP,” says Ellen. “It was extremely meaningful to me—still is. The staff is wonderfully warm and I’ve developed lifelong colleagues and friends.” Some of those colleagues include the friend for whom she had written the recommendation letter—they roomed together during the on-campus weekend intensives—as well as her service learning project team, whom she hosted at her home in Albany while they developed their plan to benefit a local school.

When Ellen began planning her capstone project, her 70th birthday was approaching, and she was drawn to the question of how to apply positive psychology principles to aging well. “Age is NOT just a number,” she explains. “Our decades bring different challenges, different rewards, and different expectations.” She interviewed a variety of women in their 70s to identify some of the experiences they had in common, despite differences in religion, region, and racial background. What she learned is that the women experienced different challenges as they aged depending on other aspects of their identities—for example, first-generation Mexican American women worried about their children losing touch with their culture, while Black women found that racism created more pressure on their lives than ageism. But across the groups, older women had similar questions about where to live and what role their jobs and grandchildren should play in their lives. With co-author Jane Giddan, Ellen then adapted her capstone into a book titled 70 Candles! Women Thriving in Their 8th Decade, published in 2015.

After completing the MAPP program, Ellen has found other pathways to bring positive psychology principles into her work. She reads applications in the MAPP admissions process and incorporates tools such as the character strength assessment into her classroom at Russell Sage College. She published another book exploring aging and quality of life: Older Women Who Work: Resilience, Choice, and Change (2021). She has given talks on topics such as “aging in the right place for you,” an acknowledgment that different aging adults will have different needs in regard to residential living or remaining at home.

Even as she prepares to transition out of her university role—”I hate the word retire,” she adds, “I’m not going to bed!”—she continues to reflect on strategies for older adults to age positively. “Number one is to gather together. Don’t isolate, find your age mates,” she advises. “Number two is gratitude. Staying active is really important. And have pride in who you are! Don’t ever apologize for being 70… or 80… or 90. Honor who we are and love our wrinkles.”

“My number one signature strength is zest,” she says, in regard to her own plans. “I will honor that. I have a million things to do.”

Posted in 70candles, Attitudes about aging, Goals ahead, Looking ahead, Older women connecting, Work life and retirement | Tagged , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Season’s Greetings 2021

Posted on December 23, 2021 by Blog Mavens

Hello from Ellen.

I am starting this way because our holiday greeting has in past years been written by Jane. We are a close team. We have been besties since we were 14, across many state lines as our lives have changed. This year it’s my turn.

I will begin as Jane has in years past: “We appreciate and send all our best wishes to you who have been with us for so many years, and to those we continue to welcome as new subscribers to 70Candles.com. We value the thoughtful and heartfelt conversations that continue on this blog as we help and support each other through challenges…and joys.”
YES WE DO!

Last year at this time Jane continued “This year of the COVID-19 pandemic and political turmoil is about to end. The virus remains a threat…we stay masked…but the new vaccines offer a ray of hope that we will eventually see the end of this epidemic. Many have suffered illness, loss, loneliness, and depression. We hope you are all well and safe.” I feel demoralized as I think how little has changed. Yes, vaccines, boosters, and home tests are here, thank goodness. But everyone I know is in a dither at this moment about how to have a safe and simultaneously happy holiday season. The headline in this morning’s New York Times is this: Good morning. Ready to give up on Covid? Spare a moment to think about older people. The article presents facts about how much more vulnerable to the impact of Covid people are over the age of 75, vulnerable even to death, even if they are vaccinated and boosted. One study reports the risk of death for women who have been vaccinated and still contract Covid is .45%…very small but very real. And we all know how much more dreadful the stats are for those who, for whatever unsound reason, remain unvaccinated.

Yet…this cannot, must not, dictate the entirety of our lives. My husband and I are uncertain about whether to attend Christmas dinner with nine members of our large family. It’s two days from now, and we continue to dither. And then do we get on a plane and visit close friends for New Year’s Eve as we’ve done for decades—except for last year, of course?
This has been life in 2021 for most of us. Weighing risks and benefits, feeling uneasy about any and all decisions. Dealing with a possibly even escalating political divide in the US that none of us has seen before. And it looks like 2022 will be more of the same.

So what can we do? First is to hope that the newly approved but not yet available Pfizer and Merck pills will live up to expectations. Stay as safe as we can but not sacrifice unbearably (yes we will go to our son’s for Christmas dinner; yes we will travel for New Year’s Eve—maybe). Figure out for ourselves how to address the political climate. Personally I will volunteer at the polls next year, send donations however small to candidates I respect, and continue to stay informed. I am entering my final semester of work, work I love (I am a college professor), but I’ll be 81 in less than three months, and it’s time to pass the baton. I want to savor every moment I have left of a fulfilling career, and then will see what comes next.

And what else? Three things come to mind, and I kinda-sorta see this as advice to myself and perhaps to you, our sister blog-mates, as we begin a new year. (1) Always, always figure out ways to stay connected, even during a pandemic, to those about whom we care—family, colleagues, friends, neighbors, strangers. Research abounds about the dangers of loneliness and isolation. One of my favorite quotes is from a now deceased psychologist named Chris Peterson: “There is no such thing as a happy hermit.” (2) Remember the positive benefits of gratitude and kindness—to ourselves, to others, to the world. I am so excited to see that research from Positive Psychology is spreading to schools, to communities, to countries. The December calendar in front of me at this very moment says, in beautiful flowing script, “Kindness is the Flower of Humanity.” (3) Find inspiration wherever we can.

For the first time in my life I am enjoying TV binging, with shows like “Call My Agent!” and “Ted Lasso.” As an avid life-long reader (did anyone else sneak-read Nancy Drew under the covers as a child?), I continue to find excitement, joy, inspiration from books—fiction, non-fiction, memoirs, mysteries—just as long as they’re not too technical (I save that for work). My as-of-late favorites all relate to aging, and it is my pleasure to end this greeting by suggesting a few.

The Thursday Murder Club, a novel by Richard Osman, is a hoot. Four septuagenarians live in a retirement community and meet weekly to solve cold-cases. Finally they have a real murder to solve, perhaps two. I’m half-way through this one, and I can’t wait to get back to it. The second is The Book of Hope: A Survival Guide for Trying Times, in which Douglas Abrams interviews environmentalist and ethologist, and our age-mate, Jane Goodall. Talk about inspiring. It is not a spoiler when I tell you that Goodall presents four reasons we can be hopeful for the future. They include “the amazing human intellect,” “the resilience of nature,” “the power of young people,” and “the indomitable human spirit.” Truly, I feel hopeful just typing these words. And finally is a book with a title that makes me laugh every time I think about it: Advice for Future Corpses and Those Who Love Them: A Practical Perspective on Death and Dying, by Sallie Tisdale. Comments on the back cover say it better than I can. “…Sallie Tisdale provides a frank, direct, and compassionate meditation on the inevitable.” A New York Times review says, “she invites not just awe or dread—but our curiosity. And why not? We are, after all, just ‘future corpses pretending we don’t know.’” I found the book, as the title suggests, to be wise, warm, and humorous.

And I will end as Jane has in the past. May the New Year ahead be a better one for us all. A toast to 2022!

Ellen

Posted in 70candles, Adaptations and accommodations as we age, Family matters, Looking ahead, Older women connecting, What we're reading | Tagged , , , , , | 7 Comments

At age At 72, what words of wisdom would you impart to your progeny? 

Posted on December 6, 2021 by Blog Mavens

Jane Hallowell, Age 72

My sons gave me StoryWorth.com as a gift a year ago. This involves writing answers to questions they ask me once a week. It also allows me to choose my own questions to answer if the ones they send me don’t inspire. I just finished my last entry, below. (It’s rather ironic that so much on this list came from difficult people I’ve had to deal with in my life. They have been some of my best teachers.) Next, I will proofread the book and order the final copy. It’s been a fun project, and I have been able to include photographs with each entry. What a great legacy to leave for my family!

At age 72, what words of wisdom would you impart to your progeny? 

Show compassion for others. It’s normal that many people aren’t going to behave the way you think they should. Accept this, and let it go. You will have a much happier life if you do.

Don’t be afraid to communicate, and confront if necessary. Try to do this in a state of calm rather than anger.

Treat others the way you want to be treated — the good old Golden Rule concept.

When you are walking with someone, walk with them rather than taking off ahead of them. Show some respect. I used to walk ahead of my Dad and told him that I needed to walk faster to get my exercise. I now regret having done this. I should have walked with him and taken my own faster walk on my own at another time. It would have been the kind, selfless thing to do. I know now that it makes me feel bad when people do this to me.

Thank people for whatever gifts they give you. Show appreciation. It’s part of having good manners.

Show appreciation to whoever cooks a meal for you. It’s also part of having good manners.

Rejoice in others’ successes. Don’t be jealous or competitive about it.

Comment about and encourage people when they create something and are especially excited about it. Ignoring this hurts their feelings.

Listen to what others have to say. Ask about them. It’s all not about you.

Don’t make knee-jerk decisions. Think through matters that upset you before taking any kind of action, rather than responding instantly in a state of anger.

Pay attention to red flags in relationships. Things invariably will only get worse in time — unless you are lucky and can talk through tricky situations with your partner and both parties are amenable to change.

Try and think about how the decisions you make in life will affect you and others years later.

Don’t push yourself at people. If they don’t respond, they aren’t interested.

Whether you are a mother-in-law, a father-in-law, daughter-in-law, or a son-in-law, please try your best to avoid the typical stereotypical toxic relationship that so often develops. Read about this subject before becoming one, or talk with others about their experiences with respect to this dynamic, so you can prevent misunderstandings. Find some way to love and respect one other. It will make for a happier family and will be so worth it in the long run.

Remember that there is always enough love to go around.

Show compassion for difficult family members or people. Difficult people are so for a reason and most likely are suffering in ways that you will never know. At the same time, don’t be difficult yourself.

Posted in 70candles, Adaptations and accommodations as we age, Attitudes about aging, Family matters, Gratitude and Spirituality, Inspiration as we age, Looking ahead, Resilience | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Finding community

Posted on November 9, 2021 by Blog Mavens

Susan, Age 73

In the mid 1990’s I blew the whistle on a couple of health care crooks whose companies I had managed. My then lawyer spouse wanted me to keep quiet and keep my job. In truth, the spouse never backed me up on anything. He was more concerned with himself. Always.

During the administrative law trial my life had been threatened, my car had been sabotaged after I left the court room and I had been followed. A death threat was written on my door. All of these things happened after I became the state’s key witness against these crooks.

After blowing the whistle on these crooks, it was time to look at my marriage. Time to end it. I could no longer live the corporate lifestyle. Both were incredibly empty.

My children finished college and relocated to follow their dreams. I relocated to follow mine.

I moved to the Smokies, bought land and designed a simple house. A friend in law enforcement who was ending his marriage wanted to come with me. He was a fine man. For the first time in my life I felt protected. We lived together for a few years when it became clear I needed to be on my own. We remain friends.

Living in the south, I told no one what I had been through. Honestly, I didn’t know how to talk about it. In my family of origin you kept a stiff upper lip and mustered on. Being independent, I felt I could move beyond all of this.

The small town I selected was the best experience. I lived there for seventeen years on the side of a mountain in the woods. Wildlife was just outside my door and I loved every minute of it. There was really no adjustment. I was so grateful to be there. I was involved in a lot of environmental causes. I felt needed.

Just about to enter my 70s, I knew it was time to live closer to family. Despite flying every 10-12 weeks since the divorce to see them, I was tired of airplanes, exhausted after each trip. My children were now parents and I wanted to be involved with my grandchildren. One lived in Maine. I liked the New England area and thought that might be a good place to live. My daughter’s marriage fortunately ended as it was not a healthy one from the start. Her daughter was two when I relocated to Maine. Both moved in with me when she divorced. Including the large dog.

It wasn’t easy having an entire household after so many years living solo. My house was small and sound carried everywhere. After five months she found her own townhouse and moved. They are doing really well. They’ve been there a year now. She has a nice boyfriend who seems very supportive.

My point in writing this is that I thoroughly enjoy reading what everyone has shared. I admire the deep honesty and willingness to share one’s pain. Throughout my time in the mountains, I always felt essentially alone. I know that is mostly a mindset. I was in more emotional pain than I could admit. Pain that I have no one to share my golden years. Having said that, I am grateful my life is as good as it is. But now it is time for me to fulfill that emptiness.

I moved to New England just before Covid. The first year or so I was sick, depressed and trying to find my comfort zone. I think we find it, then lose it, and find it or move along without it. Covid struck and I managed living without people (except for my family who moved in with me for five months) very well. Fortunately, I got vaccinated and never got the virus. Living in the mountains in a remote area taught me how to be incredibly resourceful and to live solo. But things were different now. I was different. Older.

We are coming out of Covid now I hope. My newly acquired asthma seems under control. At 73, I want a community here. A sense of place which I don’t have just yet. Mainers aren’t easy to know unlike the south. I’m on the outskirts of a city and have woods behind me. There are good services nearby and I can walk to many of them. My small house is wonderful. Easy to manage.

I know it takes time to adjust but the clock is ticking. I miss the mountains terribly, my community there. But we do take ourselves and our history where ever we live. I am grateful that I can finally talk about it.

The quest now is to find community, other than the one within.

Posted in 70candles, Adaptations and accommodations as we age, Aging, Family matters, Loneliness, Looking ahead, Where to live | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

The MIL/DIL dynamic

Posted on October 13, 2021 by Blog Mavens

Mother-in-law, Age 72

I recently moved near my son to be near him and the grandchildren, and I had an incident the other day with my daughter-in-law that was the last straw. She has ignored me for years, despite my every effort to engage her in conversation or treat her to outings, restaurants, and presents. I have tried to honor her in every way I can think of. I have invited her a couple of times for a girls’ day out, and she hasn’t responded to anything beyond saying that it would be nice. Most recently, I treated her and my son and two grandsons to overnights at a vacation cabin to honor her and the wonderful job she has done coping with issues and raising kids during the pandemic, and I continued to be ignored…without even a “thank you.” Sometimes I withdraw; other times I try and engage. I compliment her cooking. I never offer advice. And I never talk about her with my son behind her back.

The last straw was when we all went out together recently. She and my grandson were sitting at a table while we were waiting to be seated at a restaurant, and when I went over to sit with them, she promptly got up, walked away from me, and went over to where my son was, acting all happy and cuddling up to him. This is fine, and I’m glad their marriage is so loving, but it hurt my feelings that she moved away from me so suddenly when I was simply trying to hang out with her. And as if this weren’t enough, every time we get together, most every Sunday, I continue to be ignored.

Consequently, I don’t know what to do with myself, and because I have allowed her to make me feel so nervous, I invariably say stupid things that may even aggravate the situation.

Several years ago, we were at a family reunion, and she was ignoring me, as usual, and I asked my son if she was OK because she seemed so distant. Naturally, he mentioned this to her, and he told me later that she was highly offended by what I had said.

I understand that my son’s allegiance is to his wife, as it should be. But does he not notice how rude she is to me? She constantly reprimands her children about proper manners, yet she doesn’t exhibit them herself to me. Her behavior, in fact, feels cruel.

Why do I have to be involved in such a stereotypical MIL/DIL relationship? How did this happen? It seemed to start when the grandkids were born.

I just don’t know what I did to create such a state of dysfunction. And now that I’m 72, it’s not so easy to up and move. And besides, am I going to move every time an unpleasant situation in life arises? I would be moving on a regular basis if this were the case.

The precious neediness of my dogs and my volunteer work with Hospice make me feel of some value. My grandkids do love me, but soon, they will become adolescents, and I would imagine the relationship will shift when that time comes as it happened between my own grandmother and me. And yet, I have allowed my DIL to make me feel devalued and unappreciated.

My conclusion is that there is nothing I could have done or can do to rectify this horrible situation. I thought I would see a therapist, so I contacted two via email, and they didn’t respond. They were 30 years younger than I am anyway, and part of me felt as if it would probably be more beneficial to connect with someone closer to my age who has had more life experience.

Jane and Ellen recommended I check out Barbara Greenleaf, who addresses this DIL/MIL relationship, so I bought her book, Parents of Adult Children: You Are Not Alone. The chapter on the dynamics of the DIL/MIL relationship was most informative.

Strangely enough, a woman I had met 20 years ago suddenly came to mind. She has been clearing past life patterns with clients for the past 40 years. She’s got to be in her 80s by now. I’m not sure if I really believe in past lives, but I contacted her anyway, and she gave me a session. And so, my energy has shifted dramatically. I feel much lighter. One of the things she recommended was to forgive my DIL as she is — in my heart — and to forgive myself as well.

I also started listening to YouTube videos of BK Shivani. Her teachings have provided a philosophy that resonates with me. Finally, after years of agony, I am feeling a positive shift — a feeling much more productive than getting nowhere while talking about this problem ad nauseam with friends. Some of the things that Shivani talks about are acceptance and that when people behave with meanness and cruelty, this is simply an expression of their own pain. We will add to their pain when we react to their behavior in anger or talk about them behind their backs. We absorb their pain and make things worse. We must live at a higher frequency of compassion. We must love them unconditionally. Eventually, their energy will likely shift, too.

In no time, I have moved forward from my own state of crippling pain to a much higher frequency. I even feel grateful that my DIL has given me this opportunity for growth. In the meantime, I’m going to live every moment and day as if it were the last. I want to break the old toxic family patterns of anger and abuse and be the positive influence on my grandchildren. I certainly hope that this will be one of my legacies.

Posted in 70candles, Adaptations and accommodations as we age, Family matters, Goals ahead, Looking ahead, Where to live | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Mesh curtain

Posted on October 6, 2021 by Blog Mavens

Susan, Age 73

It must have been the mid nineties when I took one particular flight. I can’t remember where I was en route. I do remember the mesh curtain.

Flying steerage or non-first class was how I flew most of my life. First class was affordable, I just couldn’t see wasting so much money to be in the front of the plane. Seats were comfortable in the back. The aisles were wider. Restrooms were comfortable. It isn’t that way anymore.

It was the mesh curtain that forever changed how I saw flying. I got up to use the restroom. The one in the back of the plane was occupied. A few people were waiting for it. Not one to be curtailed to a corner, much less to the back of anything, I proceeded to the front of the plane, unsnapped the mesh curtain and used that restroom. It was cleaner and there were hand towels. Cloth ones. As I closed the door to return to my seat a flight attendant stopped me.

“That restroom is for first class. There is one in the back for you.”

Instantly I thought of Rosa Parks. And segregation. But this was economic.

I turned to the flight attendant.

“Are the folks in first class infected? There seems to be a bug screen separating us.”

I couldn’t resist.

Economic segregation. But a bug screen? Really?

My next flight will be in first class. I bought the ticket a while ago. I cancelled the flight due to my concern about being in a populated area during the pandemic. This time, a first, I am in first class because I simply can’t get in and out of these sardine can seats anymore. The seats get smaller, the aisles more narrow, rest rooms super tiny. My 73 year old musculo-skeletal system gets weaker.

Hopefully, this spring I can use the plane ticket. It’s a short flight and I don’t think I will encounter a mesh curtain separating us from the rest of the customers. But if I see one, I will definitely write the president of the airline and a few members of Congress.

I suppose I should be glad it is a bug screen and not a locked door.

Posted in 70candles, Adaptations and accommodations as we age, Aging, Our bodies, our health, Share your story, Traveling | Tagged , , , , , | 4 Comments

Older day-by-day

Posted on October 1, 2021 by Blog Mavens

Jane Hallowell, Age 72

I had breakthrough Covid eight weeks ago and still find myself dozing on and off during the afternoon. But two things happened to me yesterday that made me question whether or not they were Covid- or age-related brain fog.

After one of many catnaps, I opened the refrigerator and promptly dropped a glass jar of milk that shattered all over the floor. I don’t even know how it happened, it happened so fast.

As if this weren’t enough, I had received a questionable-looking link from a friend on Messenger. If I had been in my normal state of mind, I would never have opened it. But being in a semi sleep fog (not to mention being addicted to checking messages as they come in), I did. Not only that, I typed in my email address and google password to boot to try and open the link.

After a few minutes, I came to and realized that this was just about the stupidest thing I could have ever done, and so I changed my passwords for my email and facebook accounts. Later in the day, my son helped me check the security features on both accounts. Everything looked to be OK. We shall see down the road if any problems arise. But what made this situation worse than getting hacked was how impatient my son was with me. The more impatient he got, the more I couldn’t follow his instructions. (My brain freezes when I sense anyone is frustrated with me.)

I don’t blame him for being so exasperated. I used to go nuts sometimes dealing with my grandmother and my father and all their senior shenanigans — much as I loved them dearly. I guess it’s my turn now to be the elderly dork. What goes around comes around.

And please don’t think my son is always short-tempered. He has been supportive and has helped me tremendously over the years in so many ways. In fact, not many people have as devoted a son as he has been to me.

What makes all of the above so especially unsettling is that today marks one year that I moved to my own place closer to my son and grandchildren because my partner of 12 years asked me to move out. We had what I would call a “Covid fight.” After having been closed up in the house for a year together, he simply blew up.

So, I left.

It was actually a good thing because the relationship was toxic. Believe it or not, I have never been so happy to have been thrown out, strange as this must sound.

And here I am one year older and getting older day-by-day, and especially after what happened with the Messenger hack, I feel out of sorts. Us elderly folk can be downright frustrating to deal with. And try as we might, we just can’t behave the perfect way we think we should. It’s actually an opportunity for growth as we navigate unfamiliar territory and gradually reach the end of the road. We will all have to face it eventually. But how do we cope with this final stage of life in the meantime as the house of cards gradually collapses?

I struggle every day now to try and figure this out.

Posted in 70candles, Adaptations and accommodations as we age, Aging, Attitudes about aging, Family matters, Looking ahead | Tagged , , , , , , | 26 Comments

Thoughts

Posted on September 26, 2021 by Blog Mavens

Cindy, Age 71

I am amazed by the strength of women who survive their partner and go on to productive lives, making friends and even reaching for enjoyment. I am blessed to have a wonderful partner. We live with my brother, or rather, he lives with us, a rescue if you will, but a blessing to our lives. We have gown children, two mine and two his, all sons. Wonderful wives and grandchildren. We live on Vancouver Island in Canada and are blessed to have enough income and good health to be comfortable. More than comfortable.

Life has been good for us. We met in our mid forties and have had a lovely, easy relationship, despite a disabled adult son, and the usual travails that beset adult children – divorce and resettlement with new partners.

But I can not imagine how I would cope if I lost my partner. And I wonder how the next decade will play out. We are 71 and 72. Our best years are behind us, in terms of physical capacity. I still love to work, outside and in, but my work sessions are shorter now and less ambitious. We live on acreage and I wonder how we are going to cope with winter storms – two years ago we lost 17 trees in one huge windstorm. It’s a big thing to look at a hundred foot tree that is now down on the ground and your problem.

But we have help – disabled or not, and neighbours who want the wood of our trees and give us salmon and halibut. We miss dances and it looks like another Covid winter without that. I so enjoyed meeting people at the senior centre dances . They were from all over the world and i loved hearing the stories of what brought them here to our small town and our island. I miss that.

I wonder how long this “new normal” will be what is. I am learning about QR codes. I don’t want to have to learn about that, whether for parking or for Covid vaccination proof. it feels like we are getting left behind. Do I need an app for that?

I’ve been an introvert all my life. Relationships always seem expensive. So my plan is to go first. But I know that is naive. People don’t always drop on the floor or die in their sleep. I’ve never feared change but then change was interesting. Now, there is nowhere to go but down.

So I try to live in the moment and enjoy the beautiful September we are having. Hope your month is a good one.

Posted in 70candles, Adaptations and accommodations as we age, Aging, Caretaking, Dealing with loss, Death and dying, Family matters, Loneliness, Looking ahead, Men aging, Widows’ choices | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

Embracing uncertainty

Posted on September 22, 2021 by Blog Mavens

Amy Bryant, Age 81

Like many of you in the 70Candles generation, I grew up in an era of certainty. Graduate from high school, and college (if affordable), get married, be capable of working (but preferably spend several years as a stay-at-home mom), get a fulfilling job once the kids are older, relax into retirement, and live happily ever after. With the exception of heart attack, cancer or stroke, which we didn’t plan, but were not unheard of, if we played by the rules of our families, our religions, and our society, we pretty much controlled our own destiny.

Enter Covid-19, an outside enemy who didn’t care about our rules, let alone our plans; and who struck without warning, sparing no cultural group and ultimately, no age group. We 70 candle ladies (plus those of us who have graduated into 80 candles), were suddenly at risk. At any moment, we could breathe in the little covid monsters, end up on a ventilator, and perhaps die without warning.

We listened to the experts, wore masks, stayed away from crowds, stopped traveling, and the only restaurants we frequented had outdoor seating. We followed the experts who, themselves were caught up in a learning curve, so their advice shifted from time to time. All this added up to something our generation was unprepared for: uncertainty.
Can we attend our grandson’s bar mitzvah? Is it safe to go to our granddaughter’s first communion? Is it even ok to hug and kiss our grandkids?

We vaccinate to save our lives, and the lives of our loved ones, but how safe are we with breakthroughs overriding vaccinations, not to mention new strains? As the pandemic has lingered, I notice that telephone visits with friends in my age group have shifted. What used to be an interchange of the good things in our lives, now focuses on long drawn-out descriptions of physical complaints, followed by the doom of covid or politics.
Uncertainty is new for our generation, but many of us are descendants of people who lived through, and survived uncertainty, be it the slave ships, the Holocaust, or abject poverty in their homelands that they fled.

I’ve made a choice not to obsess about uncertainty. My first prayer for the day, is:
“God, give me something for which to be joyful today.”
Then I make it my business to go looking for that something throughout the day. I’ve limited my daily news watching to one half hour, enough to keep me informed, but not enough to feed agitation and hopelessness. And I’ve switched away from the cable news programs that focus more on editorial commentary. My local channel gives me the facts, and I form my own commentary.

I make sure to go outside every day. Luckily, living in in a warm locale with enough open space, I have plenty of safe unmasked time. I have found socially distancing exercise classes, keeping my endorphins flowing, along with much-needed human contact within the six-foot boundaries of safety.
In the past, I was always one for planning ahead, for setting goals, and striving. I find that the luxury of retirement allows me to look at each day as a separate entity unto itself. My mantra
“I am open and receptive for all that I need to know today.”
I’m delving into the calming effects of Yoga breath work, and neuroscience techniques of bringing calmness to the brain.

I find stability in the familiar routines that I now define as rituals: morning prayer/meditation, household chores –nurturing my home; making a ceremony out of mealtime—either in a restaurant or at home; family visits electronically, or in person when possible.
I look back on my ancestors who endured uncertainty, and call forth the strength in my DNA, embracing uncertainty with hope.

Posted in 70candles, Adaptations and accommodations as we age, Goals ahead, Gratitude and Spirituality, Inspiration as we age, Looking ahead, Resilience | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Sit back and enjoy the ride

Posted on September 9, 2021 by Blog Mavens

Jane Hallowell, Almost 72

I tend to freak out when I am creating something. My recent pottery class — case in point.

I just started a six-week hand-building session this past spring at almost age 72 after not doing any pottery for the past 20 years. The class was a small one of five students, three of whom had been taking with this same teacher for the past several years. The other was a woman from India, an engineer, in her 30s, who had never done pottery before.

And what a difference these past 20 years has made for me! Just to wedge the clay alone to get out all the air bubbles took strength that I no longer had. Also, the table wasn’t low enough. Trying to get the right angle to knead the clay is extremely difficult when the table is too high. In fact, this was so strenuous, I took a 1.5 hour nap when I got home after that first class.

Anyway, the reason why I decided to go back to pottery was because I wanted a nice container to house my Dad’s ashes. He had donated his body to science when he died, and a couple of years after he passed, they were returned to me in a depressing-looking box.

I looked online for an urn that I thought my Dad might like, but they all looked so “urn-like.” They were also as costly as $350, and I know Dad would not have been happy to spend so much money, frugal Thoreauvian that he was.

Dad used to love the crazy things I had made out of pottery in years past, so I thought I would make the urn/container myself.

I found an example online that I wanted to use as a prototype. My pottery teacher liked it so much, she chose it as the project for the class. My three seasoned classmates chose different projects to work on, and the engineer and I were the only students who decided to make this piece.

I soon discovered that I had a really hard time processing the detailed instructions for assembling the clay sections. The engineer grasped everything instantly. I was faced with facing the fact that not only had I aged physically, was I aging mentally as well? The freak-out process had started. In fact, during the six-week class session, I was only able to make this one piece, yet the engineer made many others. And she had never even taken pottery before! Not to mention…her pieces looked so precise, and mine looked rough, clumsy, and crude.

The last session where we were glazing our creations was just about the last straw. I had “thrown” my back out during the past week and was struggling in pain. The teacher forgot to have me glaze my piece the color I had requested, and so I just accepted another color she had out and available. Every little movement involved pain because of my back. I was feeling like a demented, useless elderly person.

Needless to say, I left class that day feeling really down and like a total loser.

Thankfully, my back got better, and was fine by the next week’s session. I went to pick up my finished piece, and lo and behold, it turned out beautifully. Granted, it was crude, which I like, but it expressed passion. All the love I put into it was reflected in the final product. And I noticed that the engineer’s pieces weren’t any more special than mine after all…not to mention the fact that the trivets she made had warped in the kiln.

I am using this first piece to store my Nespresso coffee pods. This was the practice piece anyway.

The final piece, engraved with my Dad’s initials and dates, is waiting to be glazed. I sure hope it expresses even more passion than what I just made.

The bottom line is that what started out to be a challenging situation and my feeling so bad and incompetent resulted in something surprisingly positive and exuding in love.

The message? If you become frustrated and upset while creating something in old age, don’t get sucked into negative thinking. Sit back and enjoy the ride, no matter how bumpy along the way. You just may be surprised at the outcome.

Posted in 70candles, Adaptations and accommodations as we age, Attitudes about aging, Share your story | Tagged , , , , , | 14 Comments