Originally published in the Herald-Zeitung’s Opinion page October 26, 2021
Unfortunately, most images of aging citizens thrust at us in our youth-inflected culture are outer-directed. These images advise us on what to take and what to do to maintain some semblances of youth at a time in our lives when letting those images go more authentically honors our aging processes and our emerging Elderhood.
Little, however, is offered to our population for the inner work of aging because our extraverted culture scarcely recognizes honoring the inner life. A new book seeks to address this imbalance: The Inner Work of Age: Shifting from Role to Soul by retired analyst, Connie Zweig.
Her book contains dozens of stories from her practice dealing with individuals who feel lost in the often uncharted territory of aging from within. I will focus here on her suggestions about moving into Elderhood. Her claim is that little is offered to the aging population to help us transition from aging to eldering wherein we are invited to pass our wisdom from a well-lived life on to the next generation. Having recently celebrated my 77th. birthday, I was all eyes and ears reading her book.
Eldering is a natural impulse arising as we age, but she points out that while someone 55 can be considered an Elder, someone 85 may not be. Eldering is both a noun and a verb. But what is an Elder? In Part III of her book devoted to this presence that wants to be recognized in our lives, and because there are innumerable faces an Elder can assume, “we must take care not to define Elder too tightly,” the author cautions.
An Elder is one who has let go of old patterns of thinking and being that have held them hostage in life, preferring instead to seek a greater, deeper sense of self-awareness in their inner lives. An Elder transitions from the role of the heroic ego, who invests in doing, achieving, striving, working, and grasping, but “whose mission is over,” Zweig asserts. As Elder, one cultivates a more nuanced, quieter, more reflective attitude towards life. Being takes precedence over doing, but that does not eliminate continued becoming who one is destined to be, even late in life.
Further, an Elder “knows how to listen because we know how to quiet our minds and be present.” An Elder turns one’s attitude towards their remaining days to include feeling “committed to life in the face of immanent death,” she writes. Like the Heroic ideal that called us earlier in life, the Elder’s reality calls to us later in life; the Elder lives in the contours of gratitude, generosity, a deeper spiritual and emotional life, as well as a lessening of being right. An Elder more flexibly accepts what is that we align ourselves to, not what might be.
The author is also clear about what an Elder is not: “an Elder does not resist change or impermanence” and does not “live in the past “or an anxious future, denying the portal of presence”; an Elder is not shame-based nor succumbs to cynicism, bitterness, or resignation.” Neither does an Elder “avoid facing fear, suffering, and loss. . . by losing connection to shadow awareness,” which tries to discourage us from our continued deepening into our unique selves.
She cautions her readers to beware of “the inner ageist,” who scolds us for wanting to live our unlived life, with prohibitions like “You can’t do that” or “You’re too old to try that” or “You’ve lived your life, now stay home.”
Aging happens on its own; but within that matrix Eldering can open up new corridors, new interests and new risks that continue to give life meaning and purpose.