Searching for Beauty

Questioning the Aging Process

Is the aging process a rich ripening of wisdom through an extended life experience?  Or is it the slow, inevitable loss of physical energy and creative capacity?  Maybe, given my age, this question is more imperative for me than you.  I think it is difficult for young people to project their future into old age.  In middle age, the inherent tendency is to seek to delay the intrusion of emerging limitations on what were previously easy things to do.  Most people, even when they get old, don’t want to look old.   To put it quite bluntly, is old age just the space to be feared before you die?  Can’t it be its own special time of life – with it’s own special gifts and rewards?   I would claim – or at least hope – that it can be a profound and memorable culmination and well-deserved celebration of a lifetime well spent.

Would a creative person – say a potter or ceramic artist – answer this question differently than me?  Some artists just stop working at some point and time in their lives, long before old age and illness might force them to.   They just seem to run out of ideas or the passion and purpose of a creative life.  Sibelius, the Finnish composer, did not compose a single work for the last thirty years of his life.  Harper Lee, the author of “To Kill A Mocking Bird”, despite the great success of her novel, never wrote another book.  Maybe you know the stories of potter friends who, for some reason, just could not go on and stopped working or their work just sort of petered out.  Is the aging process kinder to those who pursue some activities rather than others?  There is always those notorious stories of artists who burn out – dissipate and self-destroy their talents through some kind of excess or addiction. Do potters, leading perhaps less glamorous and less celebrated lives than famous painters or writers, live more reasonable and more moderate lives?  Would potters fare better in their survival rate in the actuarial tables of insurance companies?

In bringing up this topic, I must tell you – and there might be some of you who will doubt my sincerity – but I really like being old.  I really am enjoying my old age.  I am making this declaration well before my 4:00 shot of whiskey, in full control of all my faculties.  I want to make the argument that there are unique opportunities and special joys in old age not available before.  If you do it right – all of your previous life becomes an investment that pays dividends in old age.  I not talking about just those people who manage to be very, very good and never, never do anything naughty (sounds rather dull to me) but the rest of us too – and I mean everything we have done – all the screw ups, mistakes and follies – and all the lessons we have learned from them, all hopefully should pay off in old age.   In short, we have paid our dues, lived life as best we can, carried out our duties as spouse and parent, and paid our taxes as citizens.  As workers, we paid our own way and supported those who, at that time in their lives, needed our support.  So we old people need not be defensive or apologize.  We are no longer going to delay or put off our time to fully enjoy life.   Right now, this is our time to embrace and experience those moments of joy and love that make life worth living.

Looking Back

I think the luckiest people are those who do not have to regret the life they had before they became old.  Reaching old age, seeking that final fulfillment, they do not have to revoke or break away from the previous patterns of their life.  Most of us in old age will not run off to that south sea island and walk the beach at sunset and pick up seashells from the sand.  Most of us will not overthrow a lifetime of habits and activities.   Younger people should be careful in how they live their lives today so that they will not have to reject that life in old age.   All of us have regrets.  We indeed should have regrets – if we are moral and ethical people and realize we have made mistakes in the past that have hurt and impacted others.  But I think old age should not be reserved just for doing penance and asking forgiveness for all the previous years.   Misery loves company. Old age will be a lousy time if all you have left to do is to be miserable.

One of the interesting things in old age is how younger people observe and treat you.  I am old and I look old but I do not think that disqualifies me as a fully participating member of society.   I know that it is kindness that makes people want to open doors for carry or me that package for me.  Even when I think I am fully capable of opening that particular door or carrying that particular package, I do not reject those gestures and appreciate the generosity of the impulse.  I think sometimes I remind younger people of their own grandpa or even father.  I could be cynical and surmise that they are treating me with a special kindness out of guilt for the way they ignored or neglected their own father or grandfather but surely that cannot be the only reason for such behavior. I wrote in one of my letters to Christa in my book, “Searching for Beauty: Letters from a Collector to a Studio Potter” about how others perceive me as old man,

“I start each year with a birthday during January.  This coincidence forms a neat and efficient calculation.  I am not sure at what point I am expected to assign primary credit in my behavior to increased maturity or to the presumed erosion of the aging process.  As with most elderly people, I am not operationally aware of my condition, but I recognize the automatic deference paid to my old age.  It can be more patronizing than the modes of tribute paid to the supposed afflictions of others but I do not complain.  It is often a free pass and flat excuse that in earlier years I paid for with offended rejection of my iconoclastic spirit.  The crediting of nonconformity to supposed senility is a small price to pay for the blanket forgiveness of strangers.  The danger of being perceived harmless is that you soon become invisible.  That fear of invisibility, not the impending sense of mortality, is the true dread of self-conscious old age.  I am essentially healthy and happy, unaware of any serious infringement of my continued ability to enjoy the year ahead.”

That letter was written in January of 2004.  My attitude has not changed in any major way since then.  I did have a series of health issues this summer, including two cataract operations, insertion of a tube in my right ear drum to drain fluid, considerable pain from a pinched nerve, numerous blood tests and a bone marrow test resulting from concerns about lab results.  Between the hot summer sun and all the operations and tests, I was out of my garden for almost two months.  I was going to different sorts of specialist doctors about three times a week for a while.  But my eyes are better than they were before the operations, the final test results were favorable, and I am back in my garden again.  I have always had a good metabolism and great energy.  Is this resilience merely physical or does your attitude and outlook on life make a difference?  I would like to think that my pottery contributes to the overall quality and duration of my lifetime into the indefinite future.  I am determined not to abandon them prematurely and continue to extract great pleasure from their presence in my home.  I think that sense of aesthetic pleasure contributes to a quality of life that is therapeutic and healing.   I believe that the making and engagement of art and craft provide components of a holistic view of what constitutes human health and well-being.  I would hope for all the potters represented in my collection that the experience of creating pottery contain these same healing elements that come from my great pleasure and satisfaction in living with them.

Living Treasures

In some societies, the old are venerated and looked to for wisdom and guidance.  The ‘living treasures’ of Japan are those old people who have spent a lifetime mastering a craft and have achieved a special greatness in the execution of their skill and imagination.  Their artifacts represent the highest demonstration of their skill and devotion.  In a sense, I think all old people should be considered ‘living treasures’ and respected as such. It is old people themselves that become the living artifacts that exhibit the evidence of all they know and all they have experienced.   All biographies deserve attention, including most of us who will never have their lives written about in a book or made into a movie.  We should not wait too long to do this – most of the nice things said about persons at their funerals should have been said before that to the same person – when they were still in a condition to hear and appreciate the kind thought. In highly technological societies, almost everything is disposable.  Manufactured products are designed to fall apart within a definite lifespan.  That of course encourages the purchase of a new one and this becomes the basis of a consumer society.  Are we reaching the point when people – old people – are disposable too?  We too are designed to eventually fall apart.  Our mortality gives a sharp edge and strong flavor to all life that precedes it.  Natural resources are finite and some are in danger of being completely depleted.  Financial resources are also finite, particularly in these difficult economic times.  Do we have the cultural and ethical resources to protect those old people who no longer seem to be of some functional or productive value?  What do the elders of the tribe contribute to a culture?  Show me some potters who did their best work in old age.  Will we have to justify our existence some day to those who must work to support us?  The demographics tell us that a greater and greater percentage of people are elderly, at the same time, in contrast, the younger population is shrinking in proportion. I write blogs and books, collect pottery and tend to my garden – will that satisfy those who might question my burden on others?

I am going to continue this discussion in the next blog.   As always, I welcome your response to my comments and the questions I ask as I continue to explore this issue.