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Life on My Own Termsby Patti L. Auber, published February 2013
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I’ve always been a pretty confident person. I’ve been able to trust that my knowledge and
instincts will help me make the right decisions throughout life. As I got older and am now approaching social
security age, I found myself becoming more tentative. I was developing a real fear of becoming the
senior who is preyed upon by unscrupulous scammers and conmen. This fear is
totally unfounded, because I’ve never done anything really stupid that would
horrify my friends and family. I’ve
never sent funds to a distant friend who contacted me by e-mail about being
stranded overseas. I don’t give my
social security number or bank account number out to telemarketers who
call. I’m pretty savvy with managing my
finances. My children, as they move into
middle age and have become rife with wisdom, are now quick to point out to me
when they think I’m being foolish. They
want the best for me, for which I’m grateful, but often to them that means the
best as they see it.
These days I’ve decided to be less concerned about what other people—even my children—think of me and how I live. I’m less concerned about having a professional image or making the right career moves. And I’m less concerned with “being taken” by another person. I’m more concerned with the path I travel in the world and the people I touch along the way. More concerned with appreciating what I’m “being given” by those I meet. These days I’m more concerned with simply being who I think I am, and with what I think of how I live. It’s a relief not to have to live up to anyone else’s standards or expectations. A relief and a freedom that I’ve really never known before. For the first time, I am fully embracing the opportunity to live life on my own terms.
Knowing that, however, I have to decide just what those terms are. As I’m finding that out, I’m also finding that my lifestyle is changing in response. Music, art, and poetry are all becoming more important to me. I seek opportunities for exchanges of ideas and thoughts philosophical or theological. I want to understand more about what it means to be human. I find that I’m gathering around me new friends for whom those things are also important.
Over the past year I’ve voluntarily downsized my position at work, and cut my hours back to part-time. I’ve learned to play the dulcimer. I spend more time now in art galleries and libraries than in malls or shopping centers. I invited an artist friend to live with me and turned a room in my house into a working studio for the both of us. He’s encouraging me to push the limits not only of my crafting, but of my thinking. I stay up way too late these days because we get caught up in discussions on all kinds of topics. It hasn’t been since the sixties when I was a young adult that I spent so much time talking about life, love, the world, and the meaning of it all. It‘s wonderful!
My children may think I’m quirky or somewhat eccentric, but for the most part, they just go with it. I’m lucky that way. The pleasant surprise for me is that my friends are so totally accepting. One younger friend in particular made a comment that I’ll always treasure. She said I’m a role model for living life as one ages. What a beautiful compliment!
Forrest Church who was the senior minister at All Souls Unitarian Church in New York City for nearly 30 years before his death in 2009, wrote in his book Love and Death, "To envy another’s skills, looks, or gifts rather than embracing your own nature and call is to fail in two respects. In trying unsuccessfully to be who we aren’t, we fail to become who we are." To be who we are is no easy task however! It’s not a journey for the faint of heart—it takes real courage. And it’s not a static destination we seek, either. Who we are is dynamic—it’s always changing, always evolving, always becoming along the way.
I was never much into the Grateful Dead when I was younger, but recently I was introduced to their music and realize I may have missed something important. The messages we need to hear in life often come from the most unlikely sources. One of the verses in their song, Ripples, particularly speaks to me.
There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night
And if you go, no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone
I don’t think you have to reach your senior years in order to make those kinds of changes in your life. That’s just how long it took me. Better late than never, huh? And I’m not done changing yet.
These days I’ve decided to be less concerned about what other people—even my children—think of me and how I live. I’m less concerned about having a professional image or making the right career moves. And I’m less concerned with “being taken” by another person. I’m more concerned with the path I travel in the world and the people I touch along the way. More concerned with appreciating what I’m “being given” by those I meet. These days I’m more concerned with simply being who I think I am, and with what I think of how I live. It’s a relief not to have to live up to anyone else’s standards or expectations. A relief and a freedom that I’ve really never known before. For the first time, I am fully embracing the opportunity to live life on my own terms.
Knowing that, however, I have to decide just what those terms are. As I’m finding that out, I’m also finding that my lifestyle is changing in response. Music, art, and poetry are all becoming more important to me. I seek opportunities for exchanges of ideas and thoughts philosophical or theological. I want to understand more about what it means to be human. I find that I’m gathering around me new friends for whom those things are also important.
Over the past year I’ve voluntarily downsized my position at work, and cut my hours back to part-time. I’ve learned to play the dulcimer. I spend more time now in art galleries and libraries than in malls or shopping centers. I invited an artist friend to live with me and turned a room in my house into a working studio for the both of us. He’s encouraging me to push the limits not only of my crafting, but of my thinking. I stay up way too late these days because we get caught up in discussions on all kinds of topics. It hasn’t been since the sixties when I was a young adult that I spent so much time talking about life, love, the world, and the meaning of it all. It‘s wonderful!
My children may think I’m quirky or somewhat eccentric, but for the most part, they just go with it. I’m lucky that way. The pleasant surprise for me is that my friends are so totally accepting. One younger friend in particular made a comment that I’ll always treasure. She said I’m a role model for living life as one ages. What a beautiful compliment!
Forrest Church who was the senior minister at All Souls Unitarian Church in New York City for nearly 30 years before his death in 2009, wrote in his book Love and Death, "To envy another’s skills, looks, or gifts rather than embracing your own nature and call is to fail in two respects. In trying unsuccessfully to be who we aren’t, we fail to become who we are." To be who we are is no easy task however! It’s not a journey for the faint of heart—it takes real courage. And it’s not a static destination we seek, either. Who we are is dynamic—it’s always changing, always evolving, always becoming along the way.
I was never much into the Grateful Dead when I was younger, but recently I was introduced to their music and realize I may have missed something important. The messages we need to hear in life often come from the most unlikely sources. One of the verses in their song, Ripples, particularly speaks to me.
There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night
And if you go, no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone
I don’t think you have to reach your senior years in order to make those kinds of changes in your life. That’s just how long it took me. Better late than never, huh? And I’m not done changing yet.