Friends,

A friend of mine of over fifty years, Dorothy Grannell, is one of those stalwart, grounded souls we depend on for their good old common sense, wisdom, and grace. She recently had a stroke, however, that affected her eyesight and hearing and limited her mobility. After all these years of supporting others she is now dependent on her husband Andy for a lot of her care and support. She recently did an interview with Joe McHugh, a Quaker spiritual director and author, and I want to offer some of the wisdom she shared about debility and aging that I have found inspiring.

When we are young, she suggests, we are often aware that our age has its limitations, and we are anxious to get to the next level in our lives. And adults encourage us, often emphatically, telling us to “grow up!” We often say “when I grow up” I will have so much more freedom and privileges. Then as we age we find ourselves caught up trying to live up to our potential and responsibilities that are part, of course, of “growing up." And now those of us in our later years have fewer responsibilities and our quests for achievement become even less important. At this stage, Dorothy suggests, we learn instead to “grow down.” Instead of looking for “more hills to climb” most of us are challenged to become more content with our limitations, and we learn to take the quieter path.  This doesn’t mean, of course, that we become sedentary and complacent; it simply means that we learn to change pace. Another friend summarizes our aging process as learning to “appreciate, accept and adopt.” Our “growing down” as we age provides greater opportunities to become more meditative and reflective, perhaps enjoying a more profound sense of wisdom and acceptance about the wonders of life in general and our own lives.

I have come to actually enjoy, and often cherish, the ability to sit quietly in the morning and watch the sun rise. Or I marvel anew at the beauty of the rhododendrons and other flowers that grace our countryside, especially in the spring. Or I especially enjoy a good meal or music and smells  that remind me of places or experiences in the past. Or I am increasingly given to simply watching people with deep interest and curiosity. I stare at the stream of people passing before me at the hospital, each with their life’s pain, joys, and story, and suddenly I feel a new depth of empathy and love for the wide range of being experienced by my fellow human beings. “Growing down” has given me the ability to see the cruelty and evil and yet experience it all with more equanimity even as I continue to oppose all the suffering and work to promote peace and justice.. 

As I “grow down” my contemplative Quaker practice of silence and prayer also seems so much more familiar and comfortable. As I “grow down” from life's superficiality to an ever more deeply rooted appreciation of my relationships with our family, friends and community,  life becomes more complete and death more acceptable. 

May you find grace and peace in your aging no matter at what age.

I want to close with a poem by Mary Ann Burrows that expresses my aspirations as I “grow down” into my last years.

What if?

What if, 
for the rest of your life
you’re meant to live gently but truthfully,
to tend beauty, tell stories, witness others, create meaning, and show what it looks like to age with integrity, curiosity, and courage.

What if, 
your purpose isn’t a role to perform 
or a title to earn,
but simply a way of being:
embodied, honest, attentive, and deeply human?

Blessings and peace,
Tom