Kick the ‘glass half empty’ attitude!
For most working people, the commencement of the senior citizen years coincides with becoming a retiree. As the date of retirement draws near, many people eagerly await their freedom from the rat race and look forward to relaxing at home. But once they’ve hung up their boots, and made the transition to retired life, they find things aren’t as rosy on this side of the fence. They find retirement is a big pain in the… no, not necessarily in just one commonly quoted place, but literally in a whole lot of places. If it’s not the shoulder, it could be the neck. If it’s not the neck, it’s the back, and if it’s not that, it’s the knees… you get the picture. Aches, pains, boredom… grrr… why did all the good stuff have to happen before 60? Many seniors give in to rants like this. Mostly the grumpy ones. Some are concerned about getting out of shape, others about looking less attractive. And then there are some senior citizens like me who don’t care a fig about wrinkles – or laughter lines or whatever it is they’re calling them nowadays – and who have to look in the mirror to be reminded that they’re no longer spring chickens. That time is marching on.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not dejected about having left the days of my youth behind. Not at all. I’m glad I had some wonderful times, glad I’ve got this far. It’s just that there’s a disconnect between what my age actually is and the age I feel I am inside my head. Inside, mentally, I’m much, much younger; I’m still that twenty-something ravishing beauty I assumed I was. Those who are over 50 will understand what I mean. The younger lot of course will have no clue of what I’m talking about. All I can say to them is: Wait till you get here, pal!
A positive attitude to aging
But notwithstanding the way I feel, I don’t have a loony obsession about looking young. Yes, I do use make up and try to look presentable, but I’m not interested in redesigning my outside to match how young I’m feeling inside. And I don’t believe in fooling myself that nothing has changed, or that everything is fine either. I have no hang-ups about admitting that I can no longer sprint across the last half a kilometre or so to the railway station to catch a train like in my heydays. Or that I can’t play three to four rounds of badminton or table tennis at a stretch like before. I now need glasses to read. I have to struggle to put a name to a face sometimes. And yup, those pesky grey hairs are sprouting faster than I can gasp ‘hair dye’.
But on the other hand, I’m not yet hard of hearing. My joints haven’t started creaking yet. I don’t have to bounce several times before I can get off the sofa. And except for a few problems, my health is not bad. Besides, I’m free from the mad scramble in the mornings to get to the office on time. I no longer have to apply for leave – often stating fictitious reasons – to enjoy a day off.
Yes, I’m not entirely free from responsibilities, but I no longer have to shoulder some really major ones now that I’ve entered the senior citizen years. For instance, I’m free from the responsibility of raising my children. I’m done with rushing them to the babysitter – their bags and my hand bag slung across one shoulder, dragging a slow-as-a-snail Kaustubh by the hand, and simultaneously pacifying a wailing Nikhil clasped in my free arm – before scurrying off to the train station to catch the 8-10 am local to work. I’m done with tutoring them after returning home from work, and making sure they’ve completed school projects and homework on time. Today I don’t have to stress about having all my ducks in a row. I no longer have the energy for that kind of mother duck activity. Ravi too is done with his share of frenzied dashing around to pick up and drop the children when they were tots.
Now we are cruising along in the slower lane. We have more time for hobbies, for travel, and the things we love doing. We take joy and pride in our children’s achievements, though from across the miles, and feel a gush of happiness each time we think of how they’ve grown into such fine young men.
Coming back to the ‘think positive’ focus of this post, I’ll leave you with an Abraham Lincoln quote that packs a lot of good sense:
“In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.”
See ya… and keep smiling!
Veena, when I first checked out your website a while back I loved how beautiful a job you’ve done. I have enjoyed your writing whenever I received something from you. You do a wonderful job of writing. Keep up the good work!
Let me know when you get that book written as I would like to have a copy or two.
Thanks for the pat on the back, Connie. I don’t seem to be able to devote as much time as I should to the book. But I’m hopeful of completing it within a year from now.