Aging

Only when I say "I'm sixty-five" out loud does it actually occur to me.

WTF moments come along daily in this World. Many are caused by the nuttiness of the culture. Others are created within our own minds. I have liked for a very long time the acronym BGO for ‘blinding glimpse of the obvious.’ Those moments where a thought arises in our minds that may have just formed or may have been percolating for a long time. Either way, it’s the sudden rise to our frontal lobe consciousness that is the BGO. Like a meaty rainbow trout rising to the dry fly bait on a perfect sunny afternoon…it just hits all of a sudden.

Throughout my younger life I never actually thought much about aging or the age of 65. I thought of others. My grandparents Virgil and Polly. Archie and Stan and Dorothy. My parents as they began to retire and age, making interesting decisions about how to spend their lives closer to the finish line than the starting line. I never did think it about myself. My youth was all about speed. Running towards something or running away from something was my nature. Quickly.

Aging athletes have often been quoted as saying “speed is the first thing to go.” You can maintain the skills, and certainly add to the wisdom of execution. But speed goes. I remember a moment in my 40s where I finally took the bait and showed up on a Denver summer Ultimate league field. I was running around throwing and catching and having fun. The youngster that I was guarding took off for the end zone and I took off after him. Only I didn’t. As the gap widened, so did the conflict between my mind and my body. My mind said, “no one ever runs away from you.” My body said, “well they do now…you’re 45 years old.” My lack of acceptance in that moment was powerful. I never went back to summer league. Fuck that. Stay retired. Stay a legend. Lots of guys I played at the highest level with in the 80s have pursued a long and happy career playing Masters and Grandmasters. Good for them. I always loved the name of the Colorado Masters team that many of my buddies played on. “Old and in the Way.” In my opinion…nuff said.

One of the cruel ironies of human life is the reality that we actually get smarter (hopefully) and most certainly wiser as we age. Meanwhile our bodies are morphing into mere approximations of their former selves. And so it is. Acceptance is the key.

Merle Haggard and Willie Nelson captured it perfectly in their song “Live this Long.”

“Whiskey goes down
Like cold, spring water
Over rocks, and the close of the day
When you're flying like Eagles
Down American highways
You lose a lot of friends along the way
But we just keep on moving
And rolling along
Can't look back
We might turn to stone
But we would've taking much better care of ourselves
If we would have known we was gonna live this long”

I can do other things well at my age. Lots of things. I can score better in golf because I play less recklessly. I can work out and maintain a functional level of fitness. But here’s that phrase that I hate so much. “At your age.” Or, “for your age.” You look good. You played well. Then here it comes. Try that on a woman you love and see how that works out for you.

Sixty-five. I got to set up my Medicaire. Yay. I get senior discounts on stuff. Oh yay. I might get to hear, “I wouldn’t have guessed you were 65.” Oh fucking yay. I’ve lost friends and loved ones. That sucks hard. Trust me when I say I’m grateful for every moment and every day on this earth. But it’s a daily practice and I work hard at it.

But what I’ve learned to do mostly as I’ve aged is to be more compassionate. With myself for sure…but also with others. Life is hard. Being a human being is wondrous and amazing but also challenging and full of suffering. Have I learned from my own suffering and the suffering of those around me? Yes I have.

That right there is a new-found skill that I can hone until the day I pass from this earth. Yay sixty-five!!