Aging, loss, and a presidential debate
By: Craig Dresang, CEO, YoloCares
Change is inevitable for people when they lose someone they love. To change or not to change is not a choice. Like life itself, it happens to us. We have no say in the matter. Being born and experiencing life just happens . . . and so does aging, death, and loss.
Trying to learn how to exist in a world without a piece of yourself – especially a piece that was there for so long — is a different excursion for each person. Even if the bereaved or well-aged could go back to their former life, after having been changed, they would no longer belong there.
Being at an age where I can now see more life in the rearview mirror than I can in the open road ahead is a sobering and sentimental experience. My perfectly toned body, smooth skin, and full head of thick dark hair have engaged in their long, long, long goodbyes. Oh, I have worked hard to keep them around for a few more years, but it is all okay because their slow and eventual departure has allowed other forms of stunning delightfulness to surface. Change, and the gift of aging, can produce unsayable wisdom, hard-earned perspective, unstoppable courage, quiet and unbendable strength, and a heart and spirit that has been tested, refined, redefined, and expanded. For those priceless crown jewels, a head of hair is well worth the trade. Besides, since I have no say in the matter, I can only carry affection for every blemish, extra pound, and patch of skin where hair once grew like summer hay.
For those who watched the presidential debate on June 27th, the realities of change, aging, and loss were on display for the entire world to observe. Both candidates appeared somewhat diminished and different since their last debate together. The press and the public immediately pounced on what many of us saw, and then called into question each candidate’s ability to lead. The country collectively asked, “Is he too old for the job? Does he have too much baggage?” At first, I asked the questions too. But then I found myself shifting to different questions: What has each candidate received in exchange for their losses and their youth? Is there evidence of authentic wisdom, humility, and decency . . . the basic and essential ingredients for good decision-making and relationship-building? Did either candidate possess the crown jewels that are synonymous with American leadership? Can my children and grandchildren look up to them as role models?
Now in my 60s and having spent the lion’s share of my career working with seniors, I wonder if our national culture has evolved enough to support elders who are both brilliant and vulnerable. Does the mere appearance of strength trump actual competence or effectiveness? The changes that come with life’s unfolding, and the inevitability of aging, can produce rare insight and opportunity. While Forbes annually presents its “30 Under 30” edition to highlight 30 of the North America’s brightest young entrepreneurs and leaders who are not yet 30 years old, it is past time for Americans to see an “80 Over 80” list. The names of Willie Nelson, Dr. Anthony Fauci, Warren Buffett, Rupert Murdoch, Roger Penske, Carol Burnett, and Jane Fonda would certainly appear on such a list since their 80th birthday cakes have been eaten a long time ago and they are all still competently working and contributing to society in meaningful ways.
Ironically, while humanity craves substance it often chooses to consume nothingness wrapped in razzle-dazzle. Meaning and purpose – the meat and potatoes of human experience – have been replaced with all sorts of shiny objects that distract us away from the stuff that matters most.
As a result, the universally understood definitions of goodness, honor, truth, integrity and decency are being challenged and chipped away. This has caused many people to become fearful, cynical, apathetic, and guarded.
The power to change or shift this energy resides, in part, within folks who are aging and grieving – people who have been leveled by real loss of every kind. In their weakness and vulnerability, they carry a raw and powerful force that cuts through the BS and gets right to the heart of a matter. Those who are hurting the most are also the most uniquely positioned to release love into the world by sharing their unvarnished truth, their pain, their gratitude, and their journeys. By doing so, they connect with others and the Divine, and they draw those (who are fortunate enough to be in their circles) into the source of everything. Their authenticity and willingness to be vulnerable is an act of love . . . of self, for others, and of the life-changing force that comes through connection.
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