Disappointment

I carried on as I always had, thinking and living as if I were 45, with plenty of time, choices and options that I could exercise at will. I was in my own anti-aging bubble, unaware that the aging blows were about to change my life focus. They arrived in various forms, blows nevertheless.

• My insurance company “We’re removing your pregnancy clause since you are now 39 years old and can no longer have children.” (What?? I don’t remember a call to my womb.)
• My financial advisor “You should now be investing in less aggressive stocks because you don’t have as much time to recover.” 
• My primary care physician “You haven’t been in for 2 years, are you sure everything is alright?”
• The manicurist “Those ridges on your nails are due to aging.”
• Anonymous female “You’re really brave to let your silver hair grow out.”
• Salesperson at an upscale boutique “Don’t wear black, it will age you even more” and “the brighter colors are for the younger gals.”
• The chi gong instructor “You move beautifully for a woman your age.”
• Social Security Administration (read anything about your retirement income on their website and it will be a blow).

So, unsolicited societal input was responsible for lifting my aging fog that came as alerts, disappointments, and jolts into reality.

Yet, it was driving by the charming 1940’s house perched on a slope with a backyard view of downtown Los Angeles that grabbed my disappointment, full tilt. It took an entire day of being honest and curious to get at what I felt. Disappointment finally revealed itself: That was my dream house. Sitting there in all its loveliness, painted perfectly, landscaped with care, and smiling at those who took notice. I noticed her with my heart. And I knew she would never be mine. My lifelong dream of “that special house” was losing ground rapidly. In fact, it vanished in the disappointment.

Houses symbolize different things to different people. For me, that house represented so much – the family that never happened, because I had all the time in the world to create that; the flowers that wrapped around the foundation of the house, that reminded me of my Kentucky roots and favorite aunt; the big kitchen and gathering place that beckons friends and family during the holidays; and the home you and your beloved grow old in. My hopes and unspoken dreams were dashed in one afternoon. I now had more time behind me that in front of me. The Arc of Aging was burrowing into my consciousness.

With each aging assault, I would mount my mental and emotional counterattack hoping it would simply make me feel better. It did not. I decided not to fight it, not to pretend that I could overcome my disappointment with a Pilates session. I let the disappointment wash over me, take hold of my heart and squeeze it, wringing out the fantasy. Did you know that the feeling of disappointment resides in the heart? We all have appointments with life and when we miss those appointments, they become disappointments.

I needed to grasp onto an anchor – something that would remind me I was OK (because aging is not OK in our culture, especially for a woman). That Sunday afternoon when I realized I most likely didn’t have the time left in my life to buy that house and create all the dreams that went with it, I had to find a place to land emotionally and spiritually that was rooted in reality and sustainable. Often, aging is thought of only as physical, but its effects reach far beyond the physical.

Acceptance

As I walked around my third floor, mid-city LA condo (with a narrowing view of green hills to the south due to the construction of a LARGE building) I knew I had to acknowledge this non-house, small space as home, perhaps forever (now, not so daunting @ age 65). How did I manage acceptance, you might ask? I sat in each room and thanked it – the walls for being so colorful; the living room for being so comfy; the dining room for accommodating the funky butcher’s block table that’s hosted many a fun meal with friends; the den/office for providing inspiration (with the view of those green hills) and space to give birth to The Art of Mindful Aging (my new program for aging women); and the grand gold Buddha that provides a constant sense of soft spirituality and an immediate peace and calm as I walk through the door. This was my home. It has supported me and has provided a safe and beautiful place to live for 17 years. Gratitude slowly took the place of disappointment.

~Acceptance showed up (My home is lovely).

~Acceptance gave me access to Truth (This home is perfect for me).

~Truth brought clarity (I can easily afford to live here during my retirement).

~With Clarity came Possibility (Hey, I could rent it out and live in Bali for a year!)

~With Possibility, I found Curiosity. Curiosity about my future. Yes, I had a future. I better get busy creating the future I desire! Acceptance is powerful.

Acceptance 2.0

Could I manage to do the same with aging? Accept that I was aging?

I started this process by trying on the word “ageless,” which is the new aging concept. I’ve even used this word in my blogs, articles, speeches and in my program, The Art of Mindful Aging. Ageless, here I come!

Clunk, thump, crash. What happened?

My EGO loved the idea of being AGELESS. But as I pulled this word over my mind and body, ah, not so much. Why? Because it didn’t allow for the process and experience I was having. Being present to my aging needs to allow for all and everything – the added inches around the waist – the fear of losing my youth, or health, the terror of not having enough money to retire, and wondering if my life as I formerly knew it, was coming to a halt. Ageless, I discovered, did not give me access to what I needed to embrace my aging life. It limited me, not liberated me. Acceptance is powerful.

I’m not ageless. I am aging. And, I’m learning that is not only OK to embrace one’s aging process, there are benefits to acknowledging that one is aging. It was the desire to be ageless that allowed me to carry on for so many years without realizing how time was passing. Note, I must say that we live in an age-average culture, so no wonder I had my head in the sand! Furthermore, I do not want to be “ageless”, as that approach robs me of authentically seeing me, being me, knowing me and understanding that aging is a soul journey with profound benefits. What, benefits of aging? Stay tuned, next blog.

Reflection Questions:

~Have you had any disappointments show up as you age?

~How did you navigate the disappointment?

~What are your thoughts on being ageless?

~How has society reminded you of your aging?

I’d love to hear your stories and experiences.

To mindful aging,

Denise