OPPOSABLE THUMBS
"In my years of coaching people in their inevitable transitions, I’ve observed that as many as 1-in-3 people experience a “mirror crisis.” They don’t like what they see in the mirror. Not just their aging body, but, their aging life. They feel an expectations gap – “This isn’t what I was expecting.” “If only I was more of this.” “If only I was less of that.” The gap is often triggered by deaths, illnesses, moves, retirement, and more. Or, it can be the experience of simply feeling the energy-draining drudgery of more of the same old conversations and routines. It can also be the normal, yet panicky feeling of facing the ticking clock of mortality.” Richard Leider
The other day I briefly injured the tendon between my thumb and my index finger on my left, dominant hand. For the time that I nursed this tender digit, I was made aware of other simple things that I have taken for granted as much as opposable thumbs. I easily listed off half a dozen items in my mental gratitude journal, ranging from my own health and wellness to an appreciation of my home, city, country, and the people who share these advantages with me. The injury also happened while I was reading Michael Singer’s chapter on contemplating death. Taking me beyond counting my blessings, Singer emphasizes the lessons I am meant to be learning at this time of my life:
“No person or situation could teach you as much as death has to teach you. While someone could tell you that you are not your body, death shows you. While someone could remind you of the insignificance of the things that you cling to, death takes them all away in a second. While people can teach you that men and women of all races are equal and that there is no difference between the rich and the poor, death instantly makes us all the same.”
The above commentary puts so many things in perspective. Not only does it spotlight how superficial many of my concerns can be, but also arms me with new coping strategies. When something or someone is irritating me, it’s very effective to ask myself: “Would this still matter to me if I knew this person or this thing would be gone tomorrow? What if I wasn’t going to wake up tomorrow? Or next week? Or next year?”
The latter approach came in handy this week. Asked to help babysit some of our grandchildren for a few days, I experienced moments of that “energy draining drudgery” that Leider writes about. (Also moments of thinking “I’m WAAAAY too old for this!) There’s definitely wisdom in having children when you’re young, but there’s also wisdom in being, as a retiree, immersed in a busy young family’s life. This week I had time to observe and appreciate each different stage from toddler to teen to young adult to late life-pitch-parenting. Seeing myself as the senior citizen on this trajectory had me gravitating to Richard Leider’s advice on the late life, or mirror, crisis:
“A late-life crisis is different than a mid-life crisis where we take stock of “Is this all there is?” It’s a deeper existential questioning about “time.” It’s the reality that time is our most precious currency and there’s little of it left. How much time do I have and what do I want to do more of and less of in my lifetime?”
This question crossed my mind when the grandkids put “Free Guy” on the TV, after having voted down my suggestion of “Fly Away Home”, a wholesome, PG rated Canadian film (about Canada geese!) Deciding I definitely didn’t have time to watch Ryan Reynolds fight monsters in his superpower-sunglasses, I “flew away home” to watch a documentary on the Tour de France (equally absurd in some respects, but, as an aspiring road biker I greatly admire their efforts).
As with “owning” the choice of going home versus watching a senseless movie, leading an examined life encourages me to consistently face the accumulation of choices, great and small, that have led to where I am today. To face myself honestly and compassionately, acknowledging my own regrets and wrong turns and celebrating my victories with grace and equanimity. Accepting who I am and what I’ve done, versus blaming others for any unsatisfactory outcomes.
As Leider writes: “Getting comfortable with our physical and psychological reflection allows us to accept ourselves exactly as we are.”
If one cannot accept what one sees in the mirror, it may be time to dive deeper into the existential questions that not only acknowledge our mortality but actively engage us in planning for that twilight time of life. Not to do so risks incurring great expense for younger-next-year interventions, but also misses out on one of the most important aspects of our existence. Our inner, soul journey. Our evolution of consciousness. If we begin at mid-life by asking “Is this all there is?”, then we must continue to learn, as Singer would have us do, to live from the deepest part of [our] being:
“You have to be willing to look at what it would be like if death was staring you in the face. Then you have to come to peace within yourself so that it doesn’t make any difference whether it is or not.”
That’s deep enough for today.
Now to make popcorn and watch Vingegaard race Pogačar over hundreds of kilometers and up ludicrously steep climbs for the honour of donning a skimpy yellow jersey. For which opposable thumbs are a must. Awesome!