Wisdom, Part 2: Thursday's Reflection

During the retreat I co-facilitated recently, "Growing Older with Grace, Spiritual Practices for the Second Half of Life," I opened with an exercise in which each participant emptied a bag of glass pebbles, one for each year of their life, into a large glass bowl, and then shared a significant piece of wisdom from their life.

The bowl of pebbles symbolized all the years of wisdom in the room. 2, 623 years of wisdom to be exact, although as one person told me, some of her years were more foolish than wise. I know the feeling!

All day long I wanted to run my fingers through the bowl filled nearly to the top with multi-colored pebbles. I thought perhaps I could capture all that wisdom through osmosis. If I stirred up handfuls of those pebbles, would I become wiser myself, would wisdom seep through my fingertips and reach my heart and my mind? Would the coolness of the pebbles extinguish the flames of my ego which so often gets in the way of openness and calm? Would dipping into all this wisdom reinforce the wisdom that has come to me slowly and often painfully? 

And where would this day of wisdom shared and received lead?

One person shared her discomfort about offering wisdom to those she viewed as being so much wiser than herself. We talked briefly about the root of her concern, and I urged her to sit quietly and have a conversation with her own wisdom. Invite her for a cup of coffee and get to know her. Ask her what she knows, what she has learned. What is her name?

It seems to me that at this stage of our life, we need to become comfortable with our own wisdom. This is the time to uncover the wisdom we have learned along the way. This is the time to live our wisdom, not just know it. To be our wisdom, not just expect respect for our years lived. Knowing our wisdom is a deep form of coming to know our essence, the person we were created to be. And knowing our own wisdom is a step, often a big and sometimes a surprising step, towards understanding our purpose during this stage of our lives. A step to living our wisdom.

Ok, here's a caveat. Listen to the tone of your wisdom. Is it whiney or bossy or wedded to the past, beginning sentences with "in my day," or "in the day." Listen to your wisdom and notice if it is acting from a "I have a right to be heard." stance. Are you open to the wisdom of others, including those younger than you, or do you pronounce your wisdom as if it is the end all, be all? Notice if the wisdom you offer, comes from your heart and is that heart truly beating with compassion and love? Is your wisdom willing to grow and deepen or is it stuck in "that's the way it is"? 

In a recent sermon at our church Barbara Lundblad, the now retired, former professor of preaching at Union Theological Seminary said, "What is the word you have been called to say that only you can say?" That is your wisdom, and it is good to develop a deep and abiding relationship with that wisdom.

An Invitation
How are you living your wisdom? What are the opportunities you might have to model and share and be your wisdom at this stage of your life. I would love to know. 


Resource:
Barbara Lundblad http://day1.org/216-the_rev_dr_barbara_k_lundblad

Thursday's Reflection: Key Questions

While transcribing some journal entries from 2008 for the book I am writing about the spiritual lessons of moving and finding home wherever one lives, I found material from a book I was reading at that time, Claiming Your Place at the Fire, Living the Second Half of Your Life on Purpose by Richard J. Leider and David A. Shapiro
 https://experiencelife.com/article/rekindling-your-fire/ 

Leider and Shapiro write about "re-inventing" our lives as we enter our second half of life, as "new elders." Just when do we enter this second half of life? I was 60 years old when I was reading this book and even if I live to be a 100, I was already well into the "second half" of my life, and when I was in my 40's and 50's, the more realistic second half of my life, I was in my prime and certainly didn't feel like a new elder yet. Don't get me wrong, there is lots of good material in this book --and many, many others about how to live as we get older--but I have a bit of a problem with some of the terminology. 

I understand the need to label and name. Recently, I was putting together an agenda for a retreat I am leading, and I didn't yet have a title, a name for the retreat. I knew a name would help me focus and clarify the purpose and plans for the retreat. That had been true many years ago when I started a small writing and editing service I called Word Choice, and even when I was newly pregnant--the child growing inside felt so much more real to me when we picked out potential names. Naming is important, but somehow New Elder doesn't work for me. Another name I've heard used for this time of life is "second adulthood," and this stage has been referred to as "The Third Chapter" or even "Second Chapter." We Baby Boomers seem to be struggling to find a name, a title for ourselves and for our aging, but I suspect the real struggle is an individual one--how to live these years. 

That's where books like this one can be helpful. In 2008 I clearly was looking for guidance in what was an in-between time in my life.

My husband Bruce had recently started a new position as chief medical officer for Agrace Hospice in Madison, WI, and we were living in a bleak apartment we sarcastically called the LA for "luxury apartment." While we yearned to get settled in a new home, our home in Ohio had not yet sold, and we needed to wait. I had no idea what my life would hold in Madison, but hoped I could continue what had fulfilled me in Cleveland--a small spiritual direction practice, teaching in various venues on topics related to spirituality, perhaps even T'ai Chi. I wondered, however, in what ways I would need to re-invent myself, how I would need to adjust.  Even though the move to Madison was a good one, I had no idea what my next steps would be, could be. 

Leider and Shapiro posed some key questions to consider, and they seem just as relevant, perhaps more so, now that I am even further into my elderhood. pp. 37-38

Who am I?

      * What, and how deep, is my spiritual foundation?

      * What is my relationship with death?

      * Who are my spiritual teachers?

      *  How present am I in the moment?

Where Do I Belong?

      * How healthy is the place I'm living for me?

      * How at home do I feel in my home?

      * To what extent do I feel I belong in my community?

      * What opportunities do I have where I live to do the things I love to do?

       * How well do I manage my life so I mostly do what I care about?

What Do I Care About?

        * Who comes to me for help?

        * What are my gifts?

        * How am I using my gifts on the things I care about?

        * How fulfilling is my work?

        * How is the balance of work and play in my life?

       

What Is My Purpose?

         * How clear am I of my purpose?

         * How aware am I of my legacy?

         * What difference am I making in the world?

         * Who have I voluntarily helped in the last month?

         * What connections do I have to something greater than myself?

At the time I focused on questions of home, finding home. At other times I have focused more on the Who Am I? questions. Now I seem to reflect more on questions about my purpose and how to best use my gifts. However, one question flows into and relates to others, and all are part of our spiritual work.

We lived in Madison for almost 7 years, and I now know those were transition years in many ways, preparing us and ultimately allowing us to move back to Minnesota, to return home. I discovered while living in Madison I had retired. That was a huge surprise to me, but I eventually relaxed and enjoyed our years there. Now, however, I feel a resurgence of energy, of purpose, and feel I am in a place where I can use my gifts in meaningful ways. 

An Aside

One of the ideas I had started exploring not long before we made the move here was to start a group which would reflect on the key questions of this age and help participants enhance strategies and spiritual practices for this time of our life. I even thought of names for such groups--Contemplative Retirement or Enlightened Retirement Circles. See what I mean about the need to name? Anyone interested?

An Invitation

Which of the key questions from Claiming Your Place at the Fire resonate with you? Which ones are calling you for further reflection? I would love to know.

A Few Additional Resources

* Inventing the Rest of Our Lives: Women in Second Adulthood, What Matters, What Works, What's Next? by Suzanne Braun Levine

* The Third Chapter: Passion, Risk, and Adventure in the 25 Years After 50 by Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot

* Creative Aging: Rethinking Retirement and Non-Retirement in a Changing World by Marjory Zoet Bankson

* Creating a Spiritual Retirement: A Guide to the Unseen Possibilities in Our Lives by Molly Strode

* The Gift of Years: Growing Older Gracefully by Joan Chittister

  

  

Tuesday's Reflection: Preparing for a Garage Sale

This weekend we are having our second garage sale since moving here, and it won't be the last. After over 40 years of happy antiquing, we are letting go of our treasures, but not of our memories. 

Antiquing has been our hobby. Some people play golf or tennis or have a boat or sew or paint, but what we have loved doing together almost from the beginning of our marriage is searching for treasure. We have loved exploring small towns and urban neighborhoods all in pursuit of pottery bowls and green depression glass and one more vintage tablecloth, oh, and something for the garden that will look just right next to the roses. We have eaten burgers and fries at small town drive-ins and oohed and aahed at valleys flowing into the next county or a farmhouse where we know we could be happy if we lived a different life. We have gotten up early on cold Saturday mornings in order to pass through the gates of a outdoor antique market before someone else buys just what we always wanted, but didn't know that till we saw it! We have taken home bits and pieces of those places--those lives--over the years and created our own version of home. 

Such wonderful memories I have, as well, of antiquing with friends who have shared the same passion. Friendships were deepened as we talked in the car or walked aisles of an antique mall. When a  long time friend and I invited my sister and daughter to join us as "Girls on Safari," awarding prizes for the first purchase of the day or to the person who got the best bargain, we enjoyed times of play and silliness. 

Letting Go
But now, as Joan Chittister http://www.benetvision.org in her book The Gift of Years, Growing Older Gracefully says, "The time for heaping up is over." (p. 90)
She also says, 
         
         Life, it seems, follows a relentless cycle: in our early
         years we accumulate, but in our later years we divest.
         Both of them have a place in life. Both of them are a
         struggle. Both of them are liberating. p. 89

The struggles in those years of accumulating were in the form of working long hours and of balancing family time with couple time and individual time and in making decisions about how we wanted to live and where and making that happen. At the same time growing our family and ourselves brought so much joy and love into our lives. How lucky we have been.

Now the struggle comes in the process of divesting. I hasten to add that my husband has been taking the lead with the garage sales, doing the vast majority of the work, and I am grateful. This is just one step along the way of lightening the load, however. Earlier I became the Queen of Craigslist and 1-800-Got Junk, and we have both made countless trips to Goodwill. We have gathered in over time, and it will take more time to disperse the booty, but we are on our way.

An Example from the Past
Many years ago, when our children were young, we were invited to a 4th of July party given by an older colleague of my husband's, another doc. They had lived in a grand, old home near one of the lakes in Minneapolis, but recently they had sold that home and built a much smaller and far more contemporary styled home on the back of their original lot. The home was stunning, and we were intrigued by what they had done. It was clear they were thrilled with their accomplishment. They had lightened their load and you could see it not only in the sparse furnishings, but also in the way they talked about their lives as being freer and less constrained, even though they were living in far less space. I admired them. I even recognized the wisdom of what they had done, but I wasn't at that stage yet myself. 

We have a long way to go before our load is that light, but we are making progress, and I hope the upcoming garage sale will bring us closer to the goal. I know I still love beautiful and interesting things and am not ready to let go of everything, but I am surprised as Bruce opens yet another bin how easy it is to say, "Yup, sell it all." I have no regrets about our acquisition process, although I wish this part of the process would be easier. That being said, even a garage sale brings unexpected pleasures, along with empty bins--meeting our neighbors and seeing two young boys' delight when they bought an ice cream maker or a young woman who bought a quilt because it reminds her of her grandmother. They are in another part of the life cycle, and that's the way it should be. 

The Reason for This Process
As I lighten the load, however, I need to keep asking myself, "What am I creating room for? What is important about clearing the space?" Yes, it will be helpful to my children if there is less stuff when the time comes to sell this house for whatever reason, and I know I don't want to spend as much time cleaning and arranging and hometending, and I would rather spend time doing other things, writing and reading and being with family and friends. Once again Chittister offers words of wisdom, 
          
          Little by little we begin to strip down a layer at a time…
          And little by little we become less of our outer image 
          and more of our inner selves." (p. 92) 

This is a time of spiritual acquisition--of deepening our relationship to God, in whatever way we define and name the sacred and the holy, as the people we were created. That is the true goal. 

An Invitation
Have you started this divesting process and if so, how is it going for you? What are you learning about yourself as you do this? I would love to know. 

The Biggest Changes are Within, a Post by Nancy L. Agneberg

Meet my father. This picture was taken in his home the day he came home from rehab following back surgery. Looks pretty good for almost 90, doesn't he? His physicians, nurses, physical therapists, and other health care providers were all astounded at his age and said they guessed he was much younger. Of course, he is delighted with those compliments, but still, he knows that living alone in his large home is no longer the best option for him. He has made the decision to move into a new senior living complex in the fall, and while this will be a major change for him, he is expressing eagerness and even excitement about the move. Ever since my mother died 10 years ago he has stated firmly that he wanted to stay in the house, so I wondered if he might have second thoughts the day after making the deposit for his new apartment.  He assured me that was not the case and furthermore, he said, "I will not make this hard on you." 
     Amazing! Believe me, I know how fortunate I am to have an elderly parent who is undemanding and also willing and able to make good decisions for his own health and wellbeing. I know of too many cases where that is clearly not the case. True, there may be days ahead of negotiating, but his outlook is positive, and he is open to this next stage of his life.  
     The thing is that not only is this the next stage of HIS life; it is also the next stage of MY life, and I need to be at least as open to change as he is. As I think about the last few weeks, I am aware of so many moments of learning and flashes of insight. I will share three:
1.   Do the next thing. There were moments when I felt overwhelmed and remembered why I chose teaching as a profession and not nursing, but a friend told me I could do anything. She reminded me I am the woman who wrestled a sheep in the ditch, after all! When we lived at Sweetwater Farm, we had three sheep, Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, and one of them escaped from the barn one morning after Bruce had gone to work. I heard cars honking on the road in front of the house and what option did I have but to go charging after it? Amazingly, I tackled it to the ground and then wondered what to do! A passing motorist took pity on us and helped me restore Blynken to its proper place, and all was well. Blynken was safe, and I had a great story. So yes, I am the woman who wrestled a sheep in the ditch, but I can't do everything. What I realized, however, is that I can do the next thing. These past weeks I did whatever the next thing was and then the next thing and the next. The feeling of being overwhelmed lessened as I reminded myself to focus on the next step. 
2. Grow bigger and deeper. I have said for years that as I get older I want to expand my world. I want my world to get bigger, instead of smaller. Even as I have said that, however, I have been aware that in many ways one's world actually gets smaller with age--friends and family die, one's ability to be out in the world or to experience the world lessens due to health or financial issues, and even one's physical space, moving from home to apartment to nursing home, gets smaller and smaller. A friend commented recently that his father in-law's world has gotten smaller and smaller, and I suspect in his observation was a desire not to let that happen to himself and perhaps an unconscious fear that it will. I know people who are squeezing as much travel time into their lives right now, for example, because they know at some point travel will not be as easy a proposition. For many retirement represents a loss of interaction in the world, and there can be a feeling of diminishment and lack of purpose. 
     Still, I feel a commitment to the idea of an expanding world even into the late years. What I realize is that my definition of "world" is changing. Where I sense the expansion can come is in my inner world, my spiritual world, my knowledge of my essence, my True Self, my acquaintance with the God within and without. There are not limits to that kind of growth.
     "A door opens in the center of our being and we seem to fall though it into immense depths, which although they are infinite--are still accessible to us All eternity seems to have become ours in this one placid and breathless contact."  Kathleen Dowling Singh in The Grace in Dying, p. 15. 
     My father is a model for me in his dedication to his spiritual practice of reading scripture and other devotions, including studying a section of Luther's Large Catechism every day. He may not be doing all the things that previously gave him pleasure and stimulated his intellectual growth, but his spirit is getting bigger and bigger. 
3.   Let go and live. When it was time to say goodbye to Dad before they took him in for surgery, I was aware that this could be the last time I would see my father alive. Given his age and his past history of heart issues, surgery was a risky proposition. I thought about all the other times I have said goodbye to him or other loved ones, in most cases fully expecting that a hello would follow soon. This time the outcome seemed good, but was not a sure thing. I told him I loved him, said goodbye, and let go. 
     Letting go of hurts, of disappointments, of expectations, of hopes and dreams, of fears, of possibilities, of plans and routines, of viewpoints, of worries, of control is no small task, but it is one we are asked to do every day of our lives in some way. Each time we let go of our grasp on whatever binds us, we practice dying just a bit. We move towards an acceptance of our own physical death. With that understanding comes freedom, I think, to live in a way that can be transformative. A life full of the fruits of the Spirit--"love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and self-control." Galatians 5:22. A life that provides evidence of an ongoing encounter with God. 
     
     Everyday it seems I discover opportunities to relearn the lessons that offered themselves so clearly these last weeks with my father. Do the next thing. Grow bigger and deeper. Let go and live. I welcome hearing how these lessons are alive in your own life.