Just being curious, fun-loving, and vibrant at old age can be awe-worthy. — Pexels
I love what British-born actress Kate Winslet said in an interview published in Newsweek some time back: “I think that women get more interesting as we grow older. I think we’re more evolved in life, we have so much more experience.”
Can ageing be awe-inspiring? Rejoice in the hair that is growing on your big toes, or a new age-spot or two.
So why is growing older awe-worthy?
Awe is often the combination of something grand and amazing. It is unexpected wonder or an overwhelming sense of connection to something magnificent and startling.
I feel that awe is something remarkably humbling, a moment of rare insight or revelation – it makes you shift and become more optimistic and appreciative of life. It is embracing a positive but realistic perspective about the joy of ageing.
I do believe it’s the hardship we experience – from excruciating loneliness to the mistakes we made in life, which equip us for the world and prepare us for future challenges. Sometimes we get a chance to learn from, and correct them. Sometimes we don’t. But you will somehow find the strength to navigate these exciting times unfurling right in front of you.
To be awe-inspiring, you need not court danger, or be a stuntsman, or to swim with the sharks. Just being curious and fun-loving and vibrant at old age can be awe-worthy. Growing old is not a problem to be managed, but a gift to be enjoyed.
That said, you need not go to the mountains, watch a horror movie, or look at impossibly thin models strutting on the runway, to be awe-struck. Open your eyes and wonder, in awe, why you can’t bend low enough to touch your hairy toes, or use a squat toilet with ease, or read without your glasses. Give yourself to the waves of awe that lap at you and your peers.
I was sitting at home reading, when someone came along with news that an 83-year-old barber was still at work in his modest shop giving his loyal customers an ear-cleaning and a refreshing shave after a haircut. My, my, who would have trusted an octogenarian to remove ear wax and trim nose hairs unless the barber had steady hands? Wow.
Opportunities abound for us to behold life on a daily basis if you allow yourself to be awed by your surroundings, to drink in the details you once missed, and find meaning and peace in ageing. Only in hindsight and with the advantage of age, do you realise that contentment springs from the inside, from the core of your being.
Take care of yourself
Caring for your body is awe-inspiring: Eat nourishing food, have enough rest, hydration, and wear clothes that feel like you. These aren’t indulgences; they hold you up so that you can continue to enjoy old age. Put on what you have, and look spectacular. What’s not to love about that?
The way to feel awe-worthy and good about yourself, is by finding your own passion, following your own heart, and fulfilling your own dreams.
In the end, all that matters is not your money in the bank or your status in society. It’s what’s in your heart, the ideas in your mind, and the joy you give to others. And awe will come easily at the end of the day that you managed to live well, and then tumble happily into sleep.
When you grow older, don’t lose the essence of yourself or the glow in your personality – be unafraid, be spontaneous and creative. Hold on to your sense of humour because you’re going to need it to make sense of all the injustices that nature will wrought in your face and body. Better still if you have someone to laugh with, someone just as off-kilter as you, and you love them still.
Here’s the thing: Ageing itself is a strange contradiction. It effectively diminishes your physical strength and stamina, yet you grow stronger and wiser emotionally and mentally. You can’t help but admire the person you had been, the multi-tasker who had the energy to toil from morning to night. But your older self has gained rare insights about life, about what really matters, what will last, and support you in the later part of life’s journey.
A friend in her seventies, was decluttering her drawer when she chanced upon a card given by one of her Form Six students she taught many years ago. The card was to thank her for being such an inspiring and effective teacher. Reading this ex-student’s words again made her feel in awe of herself. Memories are so precious because they have the power to remind us of our self-worth and the people we had touched or inspired.
This reminds me of what Yoko Ono once said about the seasons of life: “Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.”
Letting go of things that no longer serve us require some strength of imagination. We finally grow tired of striving after sparkly things, of trying to prove ourselves, or even to impress others. Now we surprise ourselves by being easily pleased by simple things and are grateful to be wherever we are, even if it is just spending a quiet day at home doing what we like.
As we grow older, we guard our independence reverently. Things that the younger generation take for granted – we hold on to them possessively: the ability to drive, buy our own undergarments, hop on the bike, or even clean ourselves in the bathroom. Maybe this is what ageing well is like. Maybe our world gets smaller and our goals shrink. But our experiences broaden and we start to see things with new depths.
No matter how old you are, still you grow. And when you come to a crossroads, as you inevitably will, take your time to gather yourself together and make bold decisions.
At some point, you would realise that you have outgrown yourself, and come to like this matured version of yourself – a version that’s content in your own skin, and live like you’ve exceeded expectations.
Mary Eu is a retiree with a passion for writing. When she is not prowling the shopping mall looking for an outfit she can wiggle into, she can be found reading, writing or home decorating. The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.
