The Mindset at 60
Featured in the Dayton Daily News
I’ve been thinking a lot about turning 60. My birthday isn’t until March, but many of my friends are celebrating this marked event with fanfare and family gatherings. It might be a bit premature, but I am already thinking about the significance of 60. If you’d asked me 30 years ago, I would have said 60 means old. But, alas, I find myself talking to that 30-year-old self and offering a different perspective on what it means to be old…or not.
The passage of time is hard to deny. As much as I hate to embrace aging, the facts are non-negotiable. Wrinkles beg a lather of face moisturizer, age spots are beginning to speckle the backs of my hands, and my waistline becomes more and more stubborn despite exercise classes and celery stick diets. I’d be lying if I said my knees didn’t creek more while bending down to embrace my grandchild as she squeals with delight. Nor am I quite ready to stop coloring my natural gray hair. Perhaps what wigs me out the most is when I think about the fact that I’ve lived more years than I have to look forward to. I’ve had no problem with decade beginning birthdays in the past, but this one is a bit of a struggle. For someone who loves living, I’m not so keen about facing my mortality; but that’s a whole other topic.
I have conversations with myself all the time these days about my upcoming birthday, and this is what myself and I have realized.
First, if you don’t feel old, you aren’t old. Simple as that. I’m sure all of you can think of someone in their 80’s or 90’s that exude light and life. I might even argue they are the most beautiful people we know. The choice to live with abundance is made each day when you face yourself in the mirror. The lessons learned by the age of 60 confirm that life can be messy. There are regrets, incompletions, and perhaps lost expectations. But the broken parts of ourselves just mean we don’t need to need to aspire to perfection any more. Honestly, the blemishes of our life tapestry just add to the artistry of our journey. I’ve come to learn, the ability to smile or offer eye contact is the best indicator of how old we look and feel. I wanted to mention that to the middle-aged receptionist in the doctor’s office the other day; it’s too bad she never looked up from her computer.
Second, it’s good to surround yourself with young people. I love having conversations with those who are trying to figure out their place in the world. More often than not, time spent with emerging adults yields infectious enthusiasm about their goals, passions, doubts and fears; reflective of life’s palate we all face at some point. I leave such interactions feeling hopeful about the world. And then of course, the energy from small children can make anyone feel vibrant. Each time I bring my 3-year-old grandson with me to visit my dad in his health care facility, the entire atmosphere elevates with collective smiles of welcome. Little ones bring pure joy to all ages.
The most important difference between a young 60 and an old 60, however, is the ability to dream. Forward thinking about how to give voice to your back-stage creativity is life giving. More than a bucket list, it’s about living with intention, where purpose meets joy. Discretion about how to spend time might no longer be defined by child rearing, career choice, or material acquisition; which leaves more space for new endeavors.
A sad reality is that we won’t live forever. Too many people I’ve loved have passed way before we thought they were ready. The stories are heartbreaking, which means the rest of us need to be bold in our choices as we get older. I have a few months to prepare myself, but when that day arrives, I hope my 30-year-old self will be proud.