AT AGE EIGHTY: SOME INSIGHTS

At a recent family celebration of my eightieth birthday (which was August 20), I was asked to impart some “words of wisdom” to my grandchildren. I found that daunting, so decided instead to share a few experiences and some of the insights I have acquired in my long life. During the recent Summer Olympics held in Beijing, we learned that, for the Chinese at least, eight is a lucky number. So, since I have now lived for eight decades, am eighty years old, and August is the eighth month, I talked about eight events or pursuits that were especially significant for me. Of course, there are many more, for life is one continuous learning experience, but here are a few of the highlights.

1. First, running away from home at age eighteen—another eight!—because of my love for my husband Norm was probably the single most crucial event of my life, and was perhaps the most risky, for I was completely without any financial or family resources and faced a very uncertain future. Looking back on it, I can see that I had a lot of what might be called foolish courage, but that audacity altered the course of my life, even though I paid a high price—separation from my family, which brought me considerable anguish. Still, I’m thankful I took that leap into the unknown, for I cannot imagine what my life might have been had I not done so. Could I have remained in Smithfield, North Carolina? I don’t think so! Sometimes it’s smart to follow your heart.

2. After we married and graduated from Washington U, Norm and I went to graduate school at the University of Iowa where we got masters degrees. Following that I worked as director of a preschool for handicapped children for a couple of years before I got pregnant. It did not occur to me to continue working, for at that time being full-time wife and mother seemed my only choice. While I knew next to nothing about mothering, I worked at it and was happy having children to love and nurture. And I was good at being a homemaker; I enjoyed the creative aspects of cooking and sewing and gardening and entertaining. I was, of course, not totally fulfilled with having only domestic chores to occupy me, so later I taught part time at St. Joseph Institute for the Deaf, but there is much to be said for the pleasures found in making a comfortable and attractive environment for one’s family. I was, and am, a natural Hestia, a woman of the hearth and home.

3. Having said that, I decided after my daughters Laurie and Jenny left for college to develop some non-domestic interests. Discovering the artistic possibilities of photography was a huge step for me. I developed an eye for composition, mastered technical procedures, and learned to express my emotions in a visual medium. In short, I became an artist. The years I devoted to photography were both productive and profoundly meaningful. Without any conscious awareness of what I was doing, I explored some of my deepest feelings, conflicts, and sorrows, and thereby produced some photographs that were both psychologically evocative and esthetically pleasing. This work also gave me an identity beyond that of mother and homemaker, an important step for me.

4. During those years taking, processing, and showing my photographs, I cultivated other interests as well. For one, I became fascinated with ritual, and began doing ceremonies with a group of women. Soon I also shared this activity with the family when we got together for Thanksgiving holidays at Webb Lake, at spring-times down in Sanibel, and on other important occasions. I loved those gatherings, when my grandchildren played dress-up, did craft projects, found examples of the elements, and entered into discussions of our chosen topic. I feel those rituals strengthened our family ties, helped us think more deeply, gave us a chance to explore metaphorical language, and encouraged creativity. I especially relished the coming-of-age rituals when we focused on each child, celebrating his or her uniqueness, and recognizing the important transition from childhood to adulthood. For me these were powerful times and I treasure those memories.

5. During the early and middle years of my marriage I suffered terribly from depression. Those periods of despair and sorrow depleted my energy and drained joy from my life, so I finally decided to address some of my own psychological issues. Much of my sadness had to do with unresolved problems with my parents, especially my mother, but I also was not happy with the relationship I had with Norm. I wanted to be treated with more respect and equality. Entering analysis with Lucy Klein, a Jungian analyst in Chicago, when I was in my early sixties was one of the best decisions I ever made. Though the sessions were often distressing and sometimes discouraging, I learned to face some of my demons, my fears, my conflicts, and my insecurities. Of course I continue to strive to be a better person, for we are never finished with our inner work, but slowly I was able to accept my failures, forgive my parents for theirs, and come to terms with the puzzles, pain, and pleasures of a good, but imperfect, marriage. I strongly believe that doing inner work by bringing awareness to our innermost feelings contributes to a happy and fulfilling life.

6. This leads me to the subject of relationships. Learning to live harmoniously with another human being from a different background, with a different life history, and with different needs is one of our greatest challenges, for it requires continuous communication, sustained negotiation, constant compromise, and a willingness to forgive past hurts. While building a strong, enduring relationship is not easy—it takes real work—it is enormously rewarding, for we can then reach beyond ourselves, broaden our horizons, and deepen our understanding of what love and commitment are about. There were times—even after forty-five years of marriage—when I thought I might leave Norm, but I am really glad that both of us made the effort to work through many of our differences and decided to overlook or live with those we could not resolve. I know that sometimes this is not possible and that it is wise to move on if there are basic incompatibilities and differences in outlook, but we should remember to value and to work at our relationships.

7. In order to build relationships that are lasting and loving, it is helpful to determine who we truly are. It sometimes takes courage to stand up to family expectations and cultural conventions, to follow our intuitions, and to accept our own special, maybe even peculiar, characteristics. As for me, it was not until I worked with Lucy that I began to get in touch with my own strengths, as well as weaknesses, and it was not until I was sixty-nine years old and entered a PhD program that I began to fully explore my intellectual capacities. I am not suggesting that you wait as long as I did, but it’s good to know that it is never too late to learn! Once we connect with our own authenticity and recognize our true character, then we are free to examine all possibilities and can lovingly acknowledge all our faults, all our idiosyncrasies, and all our gifts. We are also then able to accept the diverse characteristics of others and to have compassion for all human beings.

8. This brings me to number eight. As you know, I am not a follower of any particular religion, but I do feel that a spiritual outlook has added important dimensions to my life. Quite frankly, I am not sure exactly what I mean by that, except that having a sense of wonder and curiosity, asking questions and examining the deeper meaning of life, and looking within to ascertain how we are connected to others, to the world, and to the universe, all seem to be worthwhile pursuits. As we delve into the mysteries of life and death, we open our hearts and minds, and in some strange way that makes us better human beings. Though we cannot find definitive answers to the big questions, we can remember to treat each other with consideration, with compassion, with simple kindness. It is especially important to treat ourselves with the same respect and kindness we offer others, for we are just as deserving. Remember that each one of us is a vibrant, gifted, glorious, and lovable human being.

Thanks for listening. I love you all!