Perish The Thought!

Street Market in Kupang, w. Timor

The very week I turned 60, I serendipitously ran across an article about a certain Academy of Anti-Aging Medicine. This was published by a leading magazine aimed at a "mature" audience, which, in our American culture, is anybody between the ages of 40 and 99. The Chicago-based organization claimed to be devoted to "ending the aging process." The humor of this preposterous statement entertained me immensely.

What a relief to learn that something is finally being done about aging and death! Isn't it appalling that we, the most technologically advanced country on earth, should still have to deal with these nuisances? Goodness me, it's about time. Otherwise we might just have to continue believing that we can still be productive, vibrant and enthusiastic, savoring all life has to offer and more, after reaching the magic age of 55, or, even worse, 60? Can they convince us that there is no point in using both our time and energies to meticulously and purposefully enjoy living once we have become "seniors"? Must we give up on continuing to grow, discover, experiment, explore new activities, learn new skills, play, giggle, make love, watch sunsets, smell flowers, develop our creativity or pursue new interests, if we have wrinkles on our faces (among other places), saggy muscles, "displaced" body fat, and slower metabolisms? Are we fooling ourselves if we strive to stay physically fit, mentally stimulated, emotionally nurtured and spiritually centered, since we are doomed by the irreversible process of aging?

So long as aging is perceived by our society as a state of decreasing value, non-existent sexual needs, decreased mental acuity, fewer intellectual aspirations, and diminished physical abilities, it stands to reason that we should, indeed, dread and avoid it. This being the case, the following questions emerge:

If the fear of aging seems to go hand in hand with the obsession to extend life, and death is so frightening that it must be prevented at all costs, why bother prolonging life at all?

Why should I want to look 40 when I am 60? To fool whom? I look at my wrinkles as my badges of honor. I don't mind at all the traces left by my life experience on my body as well as on my mind. They are a testimony to what I have learned  (sometimes painfully), to what I have felt (always deeply), and to how much I have laughed and cried (each in large amounts).

How would I decide whether to stay at age 40, 30 or 20? How long would I stay at any age before deciding I'd be better off at another one? Where and when would this process end? How long could I function and be emotionally healthy, while always wishing for something other than what and where I am?

Why would I want to live forever? What artificial gadgets, prostheses or drugs would I need to accomplish this goal? To what indignities would I have to submit regularly in order to prolong and maintain life beyond what nature originally intended for me?  At what cost, not only financial, but psychological?

How can the equation of our physical, mental, emotional and spiritual selves be kept in balance if one of the factors is artificially altered? Would my present desire for a slower, easier and simpler life, born of the advent of different needs and new priorities brought on by maturity, not spell boredom to a younger body still raring to go?

How successful is a society which glorifies youth because it dreads aging? Doesn't our collective obsession with and focus on youth make aging appear to be a deficiency at best and a disease at worst? How do our young prepare for their own maturity when they are not taught the value of experience and wisdom, but are, instead, given an inflated sense of their role and position in society?

 What messages are we sending our young when we devalue maturity and its attributes? That maintaining a youthful appearance and behavior is the ultimate goal of a happy life and a measure of its success? That the effects of the aging process, such as altered physical capacities and a changing energy level, are considered embarrassing and somewhat pitiful, instead of being seen as the signs of a normal evolutionary process which doesn't necessarily make people useless, helpless or slow-witted? Why is it that a comment such as "You're 60? Wow! You don't look it” is supposed to be a compliment? It only reinforces the biased societal notion that "younger is better."

 So, Chicago team, try this approach: consider being older an improvement on the primary model, or a revised version of the original blueprint, and thank all the empirical additions accumulated and internalized over the (many!) years for the difference.

Go ahead and ask me: Would I like to be young again? Perish the thought! Would I like to live for ever?  Perish the thought, again!