Friday, October 30, 2020

Hearts Starve as Well as Bodies

In the effort to keep nursing home residents safe, there have been strict guidelines resulting in -- 7 months now -- of isolation, or these older adults being confined to their rooms. Period. The results of this prolonged isolation show themselves in the physical, mental and emotional decline. The link to both a video and the printed transcript of the 3-minute news clip illustrates this in the stark reality that it is.


For those who have appointed or elected authority for the care of their Sisters, these months have been very stressful with a full focus on "keeping our Sisters safe". That sense of safety and security also applies to one's sense of well-being, of being connected with others, of finding joy and comfort in what the day brings. It is a tall order to fill in this time, but that does not lessen the mandate that care must go beyond physical well-being.  It is stated well in the words of a beloved labor song, "Bread and Roses" -- "Hearts starve as well as bodies. Give us bread but give us roses too."


The link to the video is here





Wednesday, July 1, 2020

BE OLD AT HEART


The following is a passage from the book, This Is Getting Old: Zen Thoughts on Aging with Humor and Dignity (Shambhala, 2010) by Susan Moon:

“It annoys me when people say, ‘Even if you’re old, you can be young at heart!’ Hiding inside this well-meaning phrase is a deep cultural assumption that old is bad and young is good. What’s wrong with being old at heart, I’d like to know? Wouldn’t you like to be loved by people whose hearts have practiced loving for a long time?” 

A very fine reflection on the social construct that young is good and old is bad.  It belies the age denial mechanism that says ‘age is just a number’.

Let us be counter-cultural, prophetic believers in a God of Infinite Love who made ALL creation --- all through the life span --- “good, very good.”

If we hold that value-laden stance, how differently would we see our aging body, for example, or the aging bodies of others?  The waistline that has expanded as we grow from youth to middle age and later is worthy of respect and honor.  That double chin is “just perfect”.  Therefore, I, the person – so much more than just  the physical -- am worthy of rerpect and honor and am “just perfect” as I am.

And of course this is true for our neighbors as well as for the strangers who cross our paths.

Thursday, January 23, 2020

“Letting Go”



That phrase, “letting go” is a well-used one within my age cohort and among those who would tell us how to age well. “We have to let go.” It is a phrase that has always gone against the grain for me – not because it is not true, but because I believe that in its common usage it only tells half the story. Inasmuch as the phrase is a half-truth, the hearers and the speakers of this phrase are victims of the great, self-harming prejudice of ageism.

Life is a series of letting go experiences.  We had to let go of our baby teeth to make room for permanent teeth.  We let go of familiar relationships with our parents when we left home to go to college, or to the convent, or to a new home with a marriage partner. Those earlier parental relationships did not wither and die; they changed into differently nuanced relationships, different, more mature, but built on the familiar. And who would argue that one would naturally want to return to the teenage or early adulthood parental relationship?  We recognize the gifts of deepened relationships which developed as a consequence of our leaving home, of our letting go of a familiar relationship.

Most commonly the expression of letting go in later life is used as if it were something different from experiences earlier in our life of letting go, something which leaves us experiencing emptiness and (oh, I rage at the context of this next word) diminished. The message is that we let go and let go and let go as we are hurtled on a downward slide until death greets us at the bottom of the hill.

What is left out of this common usage is the second half of letting go:  we let go in order to grasp the new. This is a one-minute clip that shows, in a physical dimension, what letting go in order to grasp the new looks like.

Not many of my readers are trapeze artists, I’m sure. And the physical balance, coordination, agility and endurance is beyond most of us at any age.  Our letting go to make space for the new is the space for further growth and development. What might that be?  Deeper insights about one’s self, deeper perspective about life, peace, surety about things we used not to be so sure about, nuances in relationships, wisdom, -----.The letting go to make space for the new holds a psychic and spiritual energy that parallels the physical energy of the trapeze artists in the video.

The new we make space for will not be in the physical agility dimension.  Arthritic conditions will not disappear; the five-mile jog each morning will not reappear; the sense of breathlessness on the last set of stairs will not absent itself. However, let us never equate or limit our “self” with our “physical self”.

Perhaps instead of the traditional understanding of the half truth of "letting go" we should see it in its totality --  "let's go!"