For Christmas, a friend got me a subscription to a magazine on spirituality. I was enjoying the articles in the first issue, on topics from resilience, joy, domestication and healthy hips.
And then I got to the retreat section, featuring spas and meditation centers in places like Costa Rica and Mexico. I skipped those pages since they are unlikely destinations and went to the more-possible selection of sites in the States. Then I landed on one called modern elder academy, and I thought, this is for me, seeing as how I am an elder (71 years old) and I am reinventing myself (modern?).
But it seems that in modern parlance, I am probably more of an ancient because this retreat is geared for elders who are in their forties. You read that right—forties!
When did forty-year-olds become elders?
Has life expectancy dropped precipitously?
I was confused.
I thought we were in a period of having the most centenarians in history. If forty-year-olds are elders, what is someone who have lived more than one hundred years?
Then I remembered back to the late nineties (when I was in my forties) and my first essay was published. I started getting emails asked me to become resident expert from a variety of e-journals and blog sites. At first, I ignored them because I didn’t understand why I was getting them. Expert? What could possibly qualify me as expert?
But the requests kept coming, so I finally responded to one and was told that since I published an essay on forgiveness, I qualified as an expert. One essay? An expert? I don’t think so.
A few years after that, I started working with post-college graduates and realized that in the thirty years since I was twenty, a lot had changed. These young people said things like, “I have been doing (insert activity) for years.” “You are only twenty-something,” I would reply. “How many years can it be?” The answer was usually “two” or “three.”
At the time, I was also teaching knitting to mostly twenty-somethings who were going on two-year overseas service assignments, and during one of my knitting classes, one woman asked if I had been knitting for long. “Not too long,” I said. “Maybe ten years.”
“Ten years!” she exclaimed. “That’s almost half my life. That’s very long.” Perspective, I thought.
Then there was the young man who had meditated for fifteen minutes a day for thirty days and raved about how meditation has changed his life. “That is a good start,” I said, and then added, “Come talk to me when you have been meditating fifteen minutes a day for fifteen years.”
Those are now the people who are hitting their forties, and given their confidence in their twenties, I can see that at forty, they might consider themselves full of wisdom—like elders.
Me? I finally accepted my expert status when I was in my sixties and am just now settling into my status as an elder, at seventy-one.
It’s crazy to think that one becomes an elder in one’s forties.
I agree Rosaliene. I think 40-year-olds must think of me as “she who walked with dinosaurs.”
Well, silly, of course 40-somethings need a course on becoming an elder!
They have yet to learn how to be one!
My favorite is the look I get from students when I tell them I’ve been playing guitar longer than they’ve been alive- 45 years!
Maybe my guitar should attend the Elder Retreat.
LOL. I try to remember that I was once young and full of myself, although I don’t think I was ever as confident (or over-confident) as many of the younger people I encounter now. One can only laugh–or sigh knowingly. Life!
Your status is deserved.
Thank you. I feel the same.