If the body is a borrowed vessel for the spirit that moves within me, then I am every age I have ever been. But now, at 64, I belong to myself as never before.
On April 9th this year, a Swiss woman named Pia Hollenstein, 73, an avid climber, retired nurse and former Parliamentarian from St. Gallen, was among a group of older Swiss women over age 65 who won the first-ever climate case victory in the European Court of Human Rights. The women argued that their age and gender made them especially vulnerable to the harmful effects of heatwaves linked to climate change.
The 2,500-strong KlimaSeniorinnen women (Senior Women for Climate Protection) began this fight in 2016. Pia told Time Magazine she had been planning to hike the Grison Alps on the day of the verdict but wouldn’t miss this moment for the world: “It was quite something to keep the fight going all this time without winning anything, but the most important thing is that we finally got something for human rights.”
That stubbornness and patience. That persistence. Armed with the data that heat is far more dangerous to women’s health, these women—watching with dismay as the glaciers melted away on their Swiss mountains—took action. Their age was both the impetus for their action and their secret weapon. It was their power. In finding the Swiss government’s climate policies inadequate to protect their health, they won a victory for every generation.
Making my way up to Lac Blanc at 2,352m (71,717 ft) in Chamonix in the French Alps in summer 2021. “From the mountain, the earth stood revealed…returning like a living light into the very center of my body.” From David Whyte’s gorgeous poem “From The Mountain.”
It is stories like this that remind me why I am embracing my elderhood with something akin to glee—not least because I am more free than I’ve been in a long time. The best is yet to come, I often think. My powers are not diminished. These powers will change over time. Illness may come for me, I’m well aware of that. Right now, however, I am healthy, strong and vibrant. Given that the average life expectancy for women in the US is now 80 (and much longer for many women), I’ve got 15+ years to maintain that vibrancy. How do we do that?
I think it has to do with the idea of “aliveness:” keeping alive our curiosity, our passions, our creativity, and our appreciation for beauty and delight. Julia Louis Dreyfus’ inspiring podcast “Wiser Than Me” is evidence of that, with each of these badass incredibly wise women over the age of 70, many in their 80s and some in their 90s (Jane Fonda, Carol Burnett, Patti Smith, Sally Field, Gloria Steinem among others), showing me just how much living I have left to do. (My mother was my first and most consistent example of staying curious and keeping her sense of humor as she aged, until dementia arrived like the thief it is).
With so many great role models, anti-aging is no longer in my vocabulary. First of all, because there is no such thing. We are aging from the moment we are born, as
. I am every age I have ever been, as I wrote about in “The Circle Game.”
My daughter Marielle and I pausing on our ascent up to Lac Blanc.
Hot flashes, facelifts, embracing the gray (or not): You do you!
And so, what is the point of resisting the fact of our numerical age? It is just a number, they say, as if it a number doesn’t matter. It does matter. Those 64 lived years are an accumulation of joy and delight, sorrow and grief, pain and heartbreak, in unequal doses, depending on our circumstances and our fate. I do not wish to deny any of those lived experiences. They have made me the woman I am today. And inevitably those experiences will show in the lines on my face and the changes in my body.
We women all have different ways of embracing—or not embracing—our aging. Some of my friends want the Botox, the facelifts, the injections for plumper lips—whatever procedure or cream or treatment may help defy or at least slow the signs of aging. (And here I will confess that my only measure in this regard are the expensive highlights in my hair that mostly hide my gray. One day I will be that beautiful, proud woman with her silvery sassy short cut but I’m not there yet).
points out in her comprehensive and incisive essay: “In defense of horrible Botox,” women’s insecurity about their appearance is a $528.6 billion dollar business and it is not easy to resist. “It’s not you,” she says (and I agree). “It’s the system.”
To my friends, whatever choice they make, I quote gerontologist Dr Maria Carpiac in her conversation with
: “You do you!” Maria is featured in the episode, “What the Golden Girls Teach Us About Aging Well,” which I highly recommend. Discussion of menopause and ageism bias in healthcare were among the topics “The Golden Girls” addressed in the mid-80s to early-90s. This is well before the “moment” that menopause is having today1 where it is once again part of the cultural conversation (highlighting how menopause has been misunderstood both by doctors and society for years). In fact, Maria uses the iconic TV show in her teaching at California State University at Long Beach.
As for Maria’s advice on the options and choices women have today as they age:
“You do you! For women especially in their 40s to 60s, stop worrying about what everyone else is doing. Educate yourself, but be yourself. Check your gut. You’re in charge of your health and wellness. Don’t apologize. Give yourself grace. Your aging journey is yours and it is not linear. There is no formula. And you’re not alone. Each of our journeys is unique but we are all on the same path.”
Can you spot your internal ageist?
I believe that what is on the outside is less important than what is inside. Excavating that inner you—all of those lived years—was the focus of a captivating interview that
had with Dr. Connie Zweig, one of the leading thinkers and therapists working with the Jungian concept of the shadow (the area of the unconscious mind outside of the light of awareness2) on Elise’s podcast, (one of my favorites) “Pulling the Thread”.
Zweig said she wrote her 2021 book, The Inner Work of Age: Shifting from Role to Soul, as “a rite of passage,” in which she woke up to her “internalized ageism. I call that shadow the inner ageist and you start to recognize the toll it’s having on you. That’s the first step to break through denial. And then you work with mortality awareness and denial of death, and you explore spiritual practice, whatever that is for you.”
And why should we go inside and do this work? Zweig says:
“There’s no generation that’s had this longevity and so there’s no generation before us that’s had this opportunity to find this treasure.”
One way to do this is through a life review, although Zweig advises to do this from the perspective of the lived and unlived life: the ego’s life review, which is the story we consciously lived out, and the one beneath the surface, the Shadow, that brings a deeper perspective. It sounds like an illuminating exercise that I will try myself. Curious to learn more? Listen to the full conversation with transcript, “Life Review with Connie Zweig” at Pulling the Thread with Elise Loehnen,
The conversation made me alert to my own inner ageist, to understand when my internal ageism comes up and why. A recent example: I am moving to Barcelona. I will have to learn Spanish (or perhaps even Catalan). The ageist voice in my head at first said, “You’re getting kind of old to learn a new language fluently. You’re no longer the twenty-nine-year-old who mastered Swedish.” I recognized a script that I didn’t need and tossed it. I’ll enroll in Spanish classes as soon as I arrive.
Aging was on my mind on Sunday morning as I wrote my daily Letter from my voice of unconditional love, a Lovelet among the now 150,000-strong community of
. I took out my journal and sitting on my sunny balcony, Love had this to say:
Dear Love, What would you have me know today?
Angel love, sugar blossom, you are absolutely perfect just as you are. And you are right on time for where you are in your life. This is how it was meant to be, this wondrous, galloping, heart-rending, heart-soaring life of yours. And it is far from over, sweet pea. I know you sometimes look at your numerical age, 64, with chagrin, dismay, even fear, and ask, 'How did I get here so fast?', a little panicked. No need for panic, dearest one. You are the all ages you have ever been; nothing is ever lost. You have landed exactly where you need to be, in your life, right at this moment. And how do I know this? Because this is where you are, buttercup. I know it sometimes feels like you are on the edge of a mountain. Where to go from here? You left your long marriage, setting loose your boat that had for so long been hitched to his. Now you can flow the way the waters want to take you, across the ocean to live in a new country. You don't know what's to come and that feels troublesome at times. Ah, my lightning bug, I will let you in on a secret. None of us know what's to come. You cannot know. Let's think of that as the exquisite thing it is. There is no crystal ball. No preconceived plan that will ever play out the way you intend it to, my sweet little planner. Lay aside those plans. Go out and discover the world. Do your jitterbug. Dance. I will be right there alongside you, keeping our rhythm until the end of our days.
There are so many terrific writers on the subject of aging well and vigorously, with pleasure and without apology. Here are just a few you may want to check out:
: Debbie, almost 73, writes about old age, “from the blessings to the bullshit,” with the attitude: “It requires [b]oldness to embrace the nuanced reality of aging, and to learn new ways of living fully.”
Novelist and memoirist Thomas, 82, writes a newsletter that is funny, irreverent, and wise. She exemplifies the curious mind which never ages: “I have discovered that the more vulnerable you allow yourself to be, the stronger you become. I’m 82 now, four children, 12 grandchildren, two great-grandchildren, an awful lot of stuff, and after three marriages, I live with my dogs.”
Ladies this is absolutely beautiful. Amy thank you for your words of wisdom regarding aging, it’s top of all our minds these days. I was so excited to hear Marielles voice. She seems to have adopted your knack for speaking so eloquently. Marielle I loved your poem and everything you shared! Every time I listen it the takes me one step closer to climbing the Camino, although it won’t be for a few years for me. When I listen to you both my mind forms a picture of the scene and I feel like I’m there. Marielle I’m looking for to your future publications (?) can’t remember if that’s what you called it. Thank you both for starting my day off right!!
Beautiful essay, Amy. Embrace it all, (you always do) and I feel empowered inhaling your words.
The older I get, the more intrigued I am with shadow work. I love Richard Rohr’s work on this - his Falling Upward approach on the two “halves” of life. His work was the first that introduced me to this idea that the big surprise on the human journey is that we come to full consciousness when we shadowbox. That by facing our own contradictions, and making friends with our own mistakes and failings that imprint on our ego we expand our understanding of why we are here. Here in this vessel that carries us around.
I will def go listen to that episode from Elise that you link to. This fascinates me.
Ladies this is absolutely beautiful. Amy thank you for your words of wisdom regarding aging, it’s top of all our minds these days. I was so excited to hear Marielles voice. She seems to have adopted your knack for speaking so eloquently. Marielle I loved your poem and everything you shared! Every time I listen it the takes me one step closer to climbing the Camino, although it won’t be for a few years for me. When I listen to you both my mind forms a picture of the scene and I feel like I’m there. Marielle I’m looking for to your future publications (?) can’t remember if that’s what you called it. Thank you both for starting my day off right!!
Beautiful essay, Amy. Embrace it all, (you always do) and I feel empowered inhaling your words.
The older I get, the more intrigued I am with shadow work. I love Richard Rohr’s work on this - his Falling Upward approach on the two “halves” of life. His work was the first that introduced me to this idea that the big surprise on the human journey is that we come to full consciousness when we shadowbox. That by facing our own contradictions, and making friends with our own mistakes and failings that imprint on our ego we expand our understanding of why we are here. Here in this vessel that carries us around.
I will def go listen to that episode from Elise that you link to. This fascinates me.