Sixty Is Hard to Accept

by David Fink

Every time I turn an age ending in a zero, I write an essay about lessons of the decade. I wrote one at 30 and, unfortunately, I didn’t save a copy.  I wrote another at 40 and I don’t have a copy of that one either.  I do have the one I wrote at 50.  In brief, 20s was about making tons of mistakes and trying to figure out who I am. 30s was picking a direction and eliminating things that don’t work for me.  40s was about changing directions and trying to avoid becoming bitter.  This is really simplifying those pieces, but you can read a version of the essay I wrote at 50 at https://www.literateape.com/blog/contributor/avoiding-being-defined-by-the-aging-process.

Sixty.  It’s hard for me to accept. When I was a kid, 60 sounded so old.  Sixty meant grandparents, retirement, nearing the end of life.  But what do kids know? In reality, I believe that I haven’t yet peaked. On the other hand, life is not a continuous upward journey nor a plummet. Every decade has benefits and challenges.  Hopefully, one of the achievements of aging is acquiring more clarity and understanding of life.  After some thought, here are a few things I learned about life in my 50s.

My first big realization is the value of joy.  I used to think pleasure was not something you should seek. It might even be a sin. It is temporary and unsustainable and superficial. I have always felt moments of happiness but I would let them pass by and move on. Maybe I didn’t fully appreciate it. In my 50s, I tried to bask in those moments of pleasure as there is value in recognizing joy and naming what brought it.  If you can identify a few things that incite joy, you are more likely to live fully in the moment when they happen and maybe recreate the feeling when you need to be uplifted.  Friends have told me big and small things that bring them joy: spending time with friends and family, having sexual experiences, driving on a newly surfaced road, peeing when you really need to pee, wearing a new article of clothing, experiencing a great performance or piece of art, immersing yourself in literature that really speaks to you, checking off the final item on a “to do” list, and laughing spontaneously.  Some smells that bring me joy are the ocean, coffee, or freshly baked brownies-- an endless number of things can bring each of us elation.  Some personal examples: sharing food with someone I love (romantic or, more commonly, platonic,) having a new experience, traveling, feeling sun on my face during an unseasonably warm fall or winter day, playing with my dog, and singing (especially with others.) Creating something of which I’m proud as part of a team (The Acorn Theater and Outspoken are two of my favorites,) writing an essay or a story that I think is good, and a sincere compliment, even if I deflect it, makes me happy.  

Try to notice and remember these moments in your life. There are so many negative things that happen all the time, so be mindful not to let them obscure the good things.

Another way to feel better is to master self-care through creating boundaries and limits with certain people.  I began to learn about emotionally protecting myself as a teen when some of my angst-filled hormone-riddled friends would talk to me about their sorrow.  I began learning to listen and empathize but not to get sucked into their drama (I was also angst-filled and hormone-riddled.) Most of the drama was about parental ignorance or adolescent crushes. I’m glad I’m far away from those teen-age mood swings. However, through them, I started to learn about creating boundaries, but I still had a long way to go.  

It wasn’t until my 50s that I had to force myself to avoid relationships with extremely toxic people because they caused me pain. I often joke that I had a feeling once, didn’t like it, and never had one again. But that is not true.  I have a lot of feelings.  I often mask them using sarcasm or humor. Sometimes I will express them through words alone saying that something is funny as opposed to laughing.  I rarely cry, though my eyes tear easily. 

Men in particular avoid acknowledging having feelings. In our culture, men often mask their emotion because feelings are considered feminine or weak. Even though I know this, when I work on a personal story, I often need to be coached into including my emotions. It is unusual for me to communicate my feelings to others but when I do, it is sincere and open. It is also a clear indication that I trust you and I’m willing to be vulnerable around you.

I have empathy for others. I’ve lost a parent and many friends and relatives, ended relationships, been bullied, and survived trauma. This empathy has allowed me to be manipulated into trying to fulfil the needs and wants of others. During my teenage years, no one was trying to harm me.  In my 50s, I have known people who have shown gaslighting, addiction, narcissism, and sociopathology. People who did things that could actually damage me.  My relationships with these people were already established and our lives were enmeshed before I saw this behavior so cutting them off often was not an option. I cannot forgive malignant behavior. Sometimes people will deliberately try to deceive me and if I suspect what they say is untrue, I’ll file it away in my memory until I can confirm that it was a lie.  Once that happens, the liar has forever lost my trust. My relationship with such a person will be significantly limited and will only have interactions that do not require trust.  

Compartmentalization is a hard lesson and I have a lot of battle scars, but in the end, my travails gave me strength.  I continue to learn healthy ways to interact with predatory damaged people-lessons I will continue to learn and use as long as I live.  I pay attention to behavior as well as words and when I am confident a person is deceitful or conniving, I get to decide how close that person can get to me emotionally.  

Many non-toxic people in my life come to me with distress. Sometimes I absorb and then release their pain. I am learning to recognize that I cannot cure all that ails others, and when necessary, to separate emotionally from their issues.  It is often a struggle to do this but worth the effort.  One of the challenges is separating with firmness and kindness, instead of anger. I put this into practice when I ended my twenty two year long relationship. However, if I think you are a true friend and ally, I will do almost anything for you. I will speak with honesty and vulnerability.  I am far from perfect and will continue to recognize and work on improving myself without wasting energy on problems I can’t fix.  

The last thing I want to talk about are thoughts concerning G-d.  I have spent a lot of time pondering this.  For me, G-d is an energy that connects us.  I have experienced so many coincidences that I stopped believing there is such a thing as a coincidence. Things that happen yet don’t make scientific sense I renamed G-d.  

Medically, my mother should not have lived past the age of 30.  Yet, she is living a full life at 84. She got to see me turn 60. Living to see a child reach this milestone is a rarity in my family. 

I introduced two friends of mine who are mothers and within a short time, in front of me, they discovered they share the same sperm donor, so their kids are half siblings. 

I believe there is actually no such thing as a stranger.  Only people who haven’t figured out how they’re connected.  G-d is what connects our planet.  I once met someone in Europe who asked if I knew a Wendy in the United States.  As it turned out, I did know that specific Wendy.   

Now, does G-d care what I believe? G-d doesn’t care. What really matters to G-d is how a person behaves.  And if this is not true and you behave graciously in fear of judgement, well, that’s ok.  The results are positive.  

Speaking of G-d, I was raised Jewish and there are parts of the Jewish culture that I think are particularly helpful.  One is that it teaches you not only how to mourn, but also for how long and how to stop mourning.  Deep mourning lasts for a month except for the loss of a parent which lasts about 11 months. I like the idea I learned from my culture to not only mourn a loss but to honor the deceased.  I think of my father and other loved ones who are no longer with us and try to honor their memories by thinking of them, talking about them, lighting a candle in their honor, or making a donation to a charity with them in mind.  

My other favorite part of Judaism is the concept and value of “tikkun olam,” which means it is everyone’s obligation to repair the world.  We live in a broken place and we must all try to and heal and fix it.  

The idea of G-d, at the very least, no matter what your religion, should let you know there are more important things than just you.  It should give you hope when there is no other hope. Finally, it should get you to behave in a manner that is good for society.  

One of my nightly prayers is to recognize my gifts and use them to make the world a better place.  I hope to give more than I take in my limited time on this planet.  Thinking about it nightly helps me to make better choices. I try to treat people with kindness while remaining firm in protecting my emotional self.  I live in the moment and embrace and appreciate feelings of joy and pleasure. I try to find pleasure when it will benefit my spirit. And I try to act like I’m part of a community by contributing and nurturing while also accepting nurturing when offered.  Now, let’s see what I learn and how I can continue to grow in my 60s.