What I Learned from Four Books on Aging
An overlapping quartet of books made it through my reading list over the past year. Each grabbed my attention for a different reason. One is a classic I’d never read. The author of another was featured on a panel discussion about midlife, and that intrigued me. Another of these was on my mom’s coffee table at the recommendation of her minister. And the fourth of these had been on my list for some time but had never made it to the top.
I’ll share a quick overview of each book and then some lessons they taught me about the big transition of aging. The lessons are applicable for individuals but also for churches, as both people and organizations go through life cycles that require adaptation to changing circumstances.
Learning to Love Midlife: Author Chip Conley has made his way from being a hospitality guru to serving as a midlife coach. Midlife, he says, is not the beginning of the end but actually a high point of life for many people. Despite this, the dread of aging often overshadows its benefits. He writes, “There’s social science evidence showing that younger people consistently and markedly overestimate how satisfied they will be in five years, while older people underestimate future satisfaction” (p. 132). His book is a kind of pep talk or TED talk for those who are no longer young. He bolsters his message with loads of research and popular wisdom, such as this nugget from psychiatrist David Viscott: “The purpose of life is to discover your gift. The work of life is to develop it. The meaning of life is to give your gift away” (p. 160).
On the Brink of Everything: The writings of Parker Palmer are well known and widely quoted. Now in his 80s, Palmer shares a number of essays mostly focused on aging. He calls aging a “privilege” that he tries not to fight. Rooted in his Quaker faith, he embraces life’s struggles and looks for enlightenment even in the midst of chaos. He writes, “My wake-up calls generally come after the wreck has happened and I’m trying to dig my way out of the debris. I do not recommend this as a conscious choice. But if you, dear reader, have a story similar to mine, I come as the bearer of glad tidings. Catastrophe, too, can be a contemplative path, pitched and perilous as it may be” (p. 59).
Falling Upward (updated edition): Father Richard Rohr is both beloved and controversial for his universalist views. His books and seminars have blessed millions as he encourages people to embrace their brokenness and imperfection. Aging, in his depiction, is an important chance to give up on the twisted fantasies of being perfect or fixing others. Borrowing from great literary works and scripture, he asserts that aging people should have “learned, ever so slowly, and with much resistance, that most frontal attacks on evil just produce another kind of evil in ourselves, along with a very inflated self-image to boot” (p. 76). His premise is that we “grow spiritually much more by doing it wrong than by doing it right” (from the introduction, p. xx) and that aging is an opportunity to lean into real growth.
Transitions: This classic book by William Bridges is about much more than aging, but many of its stories and case studies seem to center around the difficult transitions of moving through life’s stages. Endings, he posits, are necessary for something new to form and grow. A former literature teacher, Bridges often refers to Homer’s Odysseus as an archetypal character who must learn the hard principles of life’s endings and beginnings, and how to navigate the space in between. Among many valuable insights and truisms, he writes, “Being unwilling to accept defeat—though celebrated in the worlds of sports and warfare—is often a guarantee that one will never learn the lessons that must be learned if one is to mature... Elders are not supposed to inundate the young with truisms that too often pass for wisdom; they must show the young how to distill wisdom from their own experiences” (p. 98).
I enjoyed each book for different reasons. While I didn’t intend to cluster four interrelated books, I’m glad I did. In various ways, they all spoke to me as an adult in my mid-fifties and as a church leader trying to guide a church through its own crisis of aging.
Here are three interesting nuggets from my intersecting reading:
Growing old isn’t bad at all.
Many blessings can come with maturity. Ideally, one has less to prove at an older stage of life. If you’ve done the hard work of knowing who you are and what you’re good at, life’s second half can be marked by a more relaxed, gracious approach to life.I’ve recently become a grandparent. In less than six months, our two married children each had children. While I’m impressed with the job of parenting being done by our sons and their wives, I’m thankful it’s not a job I have to do. My wife and I aren’t reliving the struggles of caring for babies while balancing marriage, work and life. Being older can be a real asset!
Churches that grow old don’t have to be dismal, dire organizations. They can be groups filled with joyful interactions that provide blessings to their members. While it would be great if every church could find its way to renewal and new growth, this is unlikely for many aging churches. Why shouldn’t we still recognize the resources, wisdom and peace that such groups can provide to their members? Being an older church can be great.
Accepting humanity/mortality/frailty is a key step toward aging gracefully.
It’s okay to fall down—or fall up, as Rohr would say. It’s okay to struggle with depression, as Palmer says. Letting go of something may be hard, Bridges writes, but it’s the only way to move toward something new. Or, as Conley says, we as humans finally grow when we stop worrying about doing things perfectly.
In my early adulthood, I was often my own worst enemy. It’s much easier to see it now, but I was obsessed with being right and with avoiding mistakes. Nothing could derail me more quickly than an accusation that I’d done something wrong. It’s wonderful to come to a place where I finally accept my imperfection and brokenness. Doing things well still matters to me, but I’m more able to relax and be easier on myself.
This is a huge gift for individuals, but also for churches. Churches can often be too demanding. The way of Jesus ought to make big claims on our life, of course, but churches can sometimes confuse their performance-based systems with actual discipleship. What if churches focused less on doing things perfectly and more on helping people live their best lives?
Spend some time in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
An unexpected oddity is that three of these authors spend a great deal of time in Santa Fe. Bridges is deceased and never mentioned New Mexico in his book. But the others either base much of their work in Santa Fe (Conley and Rohr) or spend time there each year (Palmer). Is there something helpful about Santa Fe that one should pursue? Do you age with greater dignity if you eat green chiles? I have no theories here but found it a fascinating coincidence.
