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By Dr. Bruce T. Marshall
November 7, 2010
Reading
Some Wishes for You
I wish for you a troubled heart at times
As woes of world and friend come close beside
And keep you sleepless.
I wish for you the thrill of knowing
Who you are,
Where you stand,
And why.
Especially why.
Not prosperity, but dreams I wish for you;
Not riches, but a sense of your own worth I wish
For you.
Not even long life, however proud we’d be to have it so.
But life that is crammed with living,
Hour by hour.
And love I wish for you;
May you give it frequently.
I wish for you solitude in the midst of company,
And a mind full of company within your quiet times.
Full todays I wish for you, and full tomorrows.
Charles S. Stephen, Jr.
Sermon
This morning I would like to offer some thoughts on successful
aging.
In our youth-oriented culture, the term “successful aging” might
seem an oxymoron. That is, two mutually-contradictory words strung
together. “Success” in our society appears dependent upon staying
young—or at least appearing to say young.
But we’re all aging all the time. And like just about everything
else in the human experience, the process of aging offers both
perils and possibilities. There are some people who age better than
others—like there are some wines that age better than others and,
for that matter, some friendships that age better than others. The
question: what’s the difference? What does successful aging look
like and how do people realize it?
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My sources to address these questions are several studies on aging
in America. What makes these particularly useful is that they are
longitudinal. That is, they follow the same people throughout their
lives, starting in their youth and continuing through the middle
years and into old age. Periodically, the subjects of these of these
studies were interviewed to find out how things were going at that
time.
One of these studies was of Harvard men (because there weren’t
Harvard women back then) who were college sophomores from 1939-1942.
Another followed inner city school boys who were age 14 in 1939.
Unlike the Harvard students, these young men had few advantages
starting out in life. A third study followed girls born between 1908
and 1914, who attended urban elementary schools in California. So
these studies followed people whose lives began in quite different
circumstances—yet, there were many share themes in what each group
experienced as they aged. The results have been brought together in
a book called Aging Well by George Vaillant.
One interesting finding is that our memories are highly selective.
It’s not just that we remember some things, forget others. It is
that we recall the same events quite differently in different stages
of our lives. For example, there was the story a man raised in a
difficult family—as a young man, he described his father as an
alcoholic who spent what little money the family had on drinking. He
saw his father as essentially “mean” who would administer terrible
beatings. His mother had been diagnosed manic-depressive when this
man was a three-year-old child, and there was constant conflict
between his mother and father, leading to separation and divorce.
Despite a difficult beginning to his life, this man had become
successful, working his way through college, marrying well, becoming
a Certified Public Accountant, establishing his own business. At age
70, looking back at a mostly happy life, his memory of his parents
softened considerably. Now he remembered his mother as “the kindest
person in the world.” His father, whose beatings he had vividly
described when interviewed as a young man, he now remembered as “a
good family man,” who had the best garden of anyone on the block.
Several factors influence our memories of the past, but a big one is
how we are doing today. If we’re reasonably happy, we are likely to
remember the past as happy also. If we’re struggling, past
difficulties become more real to us.
Another finding: it’s not the bad things that happen to people that
defeat us. More important is how we deal with the setbacks we
encounter. Seemingly similar misfortunes can affect different people
in vastly different ways.
Objective good physical health turns out to be less important to
successful aging than subjective good health. That is, it’s not so
much how you feel that makes a difference. It’s how you feel about
how you feel.
And here’s a finding that maybe I should not cite. According to the
study, (and this is a quote) “...the presence or absence of either
spirituality or religious adherence had little association with
successful aging. It was hope and love rather than faith that seemed
most clearly associated with...successful aging.” Studies found that
having good relationships with people was a better predictor of
aging well than religious faith.
I’m going to cite two sets of factors that are associated with
successful aging. The first is of seven fairly measurable factors
that reliably predict successful aging. While there are always
individual differences and also the factor of chance—good luck/bad
luck, good genes/bad genes—in general, those who are attentive to
these seven factors age better than those who don’t. The second
factors I’ll cite are less measurable, but significant in
determining the quality of our lives—probably at all ages, but
especially as we grow older.
I’ll start with the first set of factors—those that reliably predict
successful aging.
1. The single most important factor in predicting who will age well
and who won’t: smoking. Those who do not smoke age more successfully
than those who do. Some good news here: if you smoked in early
adulthood and quit by age 45, the effects of smoking could no longer
be discerned by age 70. You are about as likely to age well as one
who has never smoked.
2. The second most powerful predictor of successful aging is
something labeled an “adaptive coping style.” Or having “mature
defenses.” In everyday language, what that means is the capacity to
“turn lemons into lemonade” and to not turn “molehills into
mountains.” Another way of expressing this: the ability and
willingness to keep things in perspective.
3. Number three on this list: absence of alcohol abuse. By “alcohol
abuse” what’s meant is heavy drinking, not moderate use. There are
physical effects of heavy drinking that put extra stress on one’s
body. And there are social effects that create problems in
relationships with family, friends, neighbors, employers.
4 & 5. Numbers four and five we’ve all heard about and will come as
no surprise: maintaining a healthy weight and exercise. Those who
are not overweight and those who exercise, even moderately, are more
likely to age successfully than those whose weight strays beyond the
standard indicators and those who are inactive.
6. Number 6: A stable marriage or strong friendships. Those who have
strong relationships with others are more likely to age successfully
than those who do not.
7. The final factor: years of education. This was particularly
significant among the inner city men who were part of this study.
The significance of education is not in the higher income that
usually results. Rather, two other factors are what matter. One of
these is self care. The more educated we are, the more likely we are
to take care of ourselves. The other factor is perseverance. Those
who make it through years of schooling without giving up are more
likely to bring that capacity with them into the rest of their
lives—and that perseverance helps us age well.
There’s nothing surprising on this list. We all kind of know these
things. What might be surprising is what’s not on it.
Such as, wealth is not a reliable indicator of who will age well.
Wealthy people are just as likely to be unhappy, to die young, to
self-destruct as those who are of average income and those who are
poor.
Another factor that doesn’t matter with regard to successful aging
is IQ. Smart people are no more likely to age well than those of
average or below average intelligence.
Childhood traumas, family background, advantages or disadvantages
while growing up: these factors have an effect until about middle
age and then they diminish. After that, it just doesn’t matter what
kind of childhood you had.
Social class, the status of your college or institution of higher
learning, the prestige of your profession or, as I indicated
earlier, religious faith: none of these are good indicators of who
will age successfully. Far more important are the seven protective
factors I just named. (1) Abstaining from smoking, (2) the ability
to cope with adversity, (3) not abusing alcohol, (4) maintaining a
healthy weight, (5) exercise, even moderate exercise, (6) a good
marriage or good primary relationships, and (7) education.
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As many of you know, on Thursdays I work at a Senior Residence
Center, Riderwood Village in Silver Spring, where I am chaplain to
the Unitarian Universalist population: about 90 people. Riderwood is
quite large: there are 2700 residents in a complex featuring 21
buildings spread out over 120 acres, all connected by a series of
walkways so that it’s possible to get anywhere without encountering
even one step. Riderwood people refer to the whole complex as a
“campus,” which I think is accurate: the closest analogy to
Riderwood is a college campus, not just because of the living
arrangements but also because of the range of activities: classes,
lectures, concerts, theater both on and off-site, common areas where
residents can hang out, have bull sessions, meet new people. There
are even occasional outbursts of campus unrest, protests against the
administration, people carrying signs: just like the good old days.
(And just to be clear, the instigators are often UUs.)
There are also differences from a college campus. The most obvious
is that the average age of residents is 85. Some remain quite
active, others are physically frail. Most fall somewhere in between
and so the concerns of aging are all around. Early in my tenure at
that position, I overhead a conversation in a hallway that seems to
represent at least one aspect of the Riderwood experience. A woman
greeted her friend and said, “How are you today?”
The friend replied, “About the same as yesterday.”
The woman persisted, “So how were you yesterday?”
Her friend replied, “I don’t remember.”
Yet, I encounter many people at Riderwood who effectively respond to
the challenges of aging. And I find that Unitarian
Universalists—particularly long-time UUs—are often models for how to
negotiate both the difficulties and the opportunities that aging
presents. Among the Unitarian Universalists particularly, I see
people engaged in life, happy in the moment, interested in issues of
the day, looking toward the future, retaining old friends and making
new ones.
The studies I cited for the original list of what is involved in
successful aging also identify another set of factors. These
identify challenges to us as we grow older, sort of like the tests a
mythological hero encounters as he or she goes on a quest. Engaging
these tests successfully determines how well we will do on this
journey. I’ll note five.
(1) I’ll start with one that surprised me: learning or rediscovering
how to play. That is, engaging in activities that do not aim toward
reaching goals but that are about enjoying the activity itself. Play
comes naturally to children. You know how children spend hours
creating an elaborate imaginary kingdom only to forget about it by
bedtime.
But as we grow up, most of us find that capacity much diminished. We
get captured by the serious work of making our way in the world,
earning a living, finding a partner, raising the children. Then just
about everything we do has a purpose that extends beyond the
activity itself. We forget the simple joy of going for a walk,
playing a game, painting a picture, working in the garden, having a
conversation, listening to a piece of music.
So one of our tasks as we age is to learn again how to play, to
engage in activities for the pleasures they bring in themselves.
Maybe your game is bad tennis, maybe it’s cards, maybe it’s reading
trashy novels, maybe it’s trying out drawing or pottery, maybe it’s
using your hands to create something, maybe it’s tending a garden or
even a few plants for the pleasure you receive in seeing them grow,
maybe it’s square dancing, maybe it’s talk for the sake of talk:
sharing memories, ideas. Those who age most successfully learn to
let go of life’s seriousness and have some fun—and also laugh. For
laughter too is a form of play: a human capacity which feels good in
the moment and that can help us transcend the aches and worries of
our lives.
(2) A second test we encounter on this journey has to do with
creativity: developing our creativity. Creativity is a capacity that
can also get beaten out of us in everyday life. Such as, in the work
world. At work, creativity sometimes brings rewards, but it can also
get us in trouble, get us fired. When faced with the necessity of
paying the mortgage and saving enough money to get the kids through
college, and preparing for the costs of retirement, most of us
become cautious. We play it safe. We stash our creativity somewhere
in the back of a closet where it’s not going to get in the way.
Aging successfully involves rummaging through that closest where you
hid your creativity and getting it out again. Remember when you
thought you might be able to write a story about an experience you
had? Remember when you were interested in learning how to paint?
Remember when you could sort of picture yourself as an actor?
Remember when you were fascinated by stories of inventors that made
subtle changes in an everyday object and something altogether new
resulted? Remember when you thought about taking pieces of wood with
strong grains and making something both beautiful and useful?
Remember when you played a musical instrument and the joy and
satisfaction that brought?
To age successfully, we need to rediscover those things that bring
out creativity in us. Our society assumes that young people are
creative, old people are stuck in their ways. But it doesn’t have to
be that way. In fact, creativity can get easier as we grow older
because a crucial inhibitor is gone. That inhibitor is the fear that
we might not be good enough, and the self-consciousness that
results. As we age we realize that it doesn’t matter: it doesn’t
matter if we’re “good enough.” Everybody’s good enough. What matters
is the enjoyment and satisfaction that comes from creativity itself.
(3) A third task of aging: continuing to learn. Taking a class.
Developing a skill. Finding out everything you can about something
that interests you. Staying current in your field, even if you are
no longer professionally involved in it.
In study after study, those who make the effort to stay interested
and involved in life age more successfully than those who don’t.
They are happier, they enjoy life more, they stay more alert. In
ancient Greece, the word scholar meant “leisure,” meaning that what
people did with their free time in ancient Greece was to learn new
things.
Mary Fasano was 89 years old when she entered the record books as
the oldest person ever to earn an undergraduate degree from Harvard.
Following is an excerpt from her graduation address: “I remember one
night a few years ago when my daughter was frantic with worry. I
usually arrived at the bus station near my home by 11:00 p.m., but
on that night I was nowhere to be found....My daughter checked the
bus station, drove around the streets, and contacted some friends.
But she couldn’t find me—until she called my astronomy professor,
who told her that I was on top of the Science Center using the
telescope to gaze at the stars. Unaware of the time, I had gotten
lost in the heavens and was only thinking about the new things I had
learned that night in class. This story illustrates a habit I have
developed over the years: I lose track of the time when it comes to
learning.”
(4) For a fourth factor influencing successful aging, I’ll draw upon
a term used by the psychologist Erik Erikson: Generativity. Erikson
was one of the first to look at the stages of life, and how our
needs and opportunities change with different stages.
He used generativity to name what he saw as an important undertaking
as we age, particularly in the second half of our lives. It means
passing things on to the next generation: the traditions of one’s
family and one’s people, the stories, the rituals, the meanings of
years past.
My mother is 89 years old. From childhood, she has kept a diary.
That’s what she does every night. She writes in her diary about what
occurred that day. Her mother—my grandmother—did the same. Between
them, those diaries cover well over 100 years of our family’s
everyday day life: the challenges, the problems, the successes, the
ordinary things that occur during a day.
The problem is, though, my grandmother’s diaries are written in an
old and obsolete form of German. Even Germans can’t read it. My
mother’s diaries are written in a form of shorthand called
Speedwriting that nobody uses anymore. So my cousin has hired
someone to go through the writings—diaries and letters—of both my
grandmother and grandfather to translate them. And my mother is
going through her diaries, transcribing them into plain English. The
results are bits and pieces of my family’s history, my family’s
story. As a younger person, I didn’t care much about this, but now
it assumes vital importance.
Amy and I have children who are now mostly graduated from college,
going out into the world, getting apartments. They have asked us for
recipes: food we made while they were at home and growing up. That’s
another way of passing on family traditions, family memories. I have
a set of index cards with recipes from my mother and my grandmother.
So that when Amy and I and whoever of our family is with us have
latkes to celebrate Hanukkah—the recipe we use comes from my German
grandmother. I expect she didn’t know they were latkes, but hers is
the best recipe we’ve found.
So: generativity. Passing something of our lives down to the next
generations.
(5 ) The fifth and final challenge for us as we age is to maintain
relationships with other people.
Growing older involves losses. People who have been important to
us—friends, siblings, spouses—they move away, they die. Successful
aging calls for us to establish new relationships: to make new
acquaintances, new friends. This does not mean ignoring the sorrow
of the losses—that sorrow lives on. Sorrow, after all, is a form of
love. But while experiencing loss, we can also move on to meet new
people, let others into our lives.
Of the five tasks I’ve identified as important to aging well, this
is the most important: staying in touch with people. Those who cut
off relationships and withdraw into themselves do not age
successfully. Those who maintain relationships and make new friends
do age successfully. It is that simple.
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A final thought. In the book I’ve been using as a source for this
sermon, the author makes the statement that “biology flows
downhill.” What that means is that parents care for children, not
the other way around. And grandparents care for grandchildren, not
the other way around. Biology flows downhill. This rule holds no
matter what your age. Even if we reach a point in life in which our
physical needs must be attended to by our children, we still retain
the parental relationship with them. We retain a responsibility to
the generations that follow us.
I have already identified ways in which this may occur, such as,
through passing on the stories and rituals of our families. But
there is something more basic that we hand down to our children, to
the generations that follow us—more important than any stories or
rituals or recipes that we might share. It is this: the affirmation
that life has worth, that there is joy and love and meaning in life,
that our lives matter. As we approach old age, that is our role: to
assure our children and our grandchildren that our lives matter.
In that spirit, I offer this final quote from a participant in one
of the studies I’ve been drawing on.
“I think it is enormously important to the next generation that we
be happy into old age—happy and confident—not necessarily that we
are right but that it is wonderful to persist in our search for
meaning and rectitude. Ultimately, that is our most valuable legacy:
the conviction that life is and has been worthwhile right up to the
limit.”
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