Sit, stay, roll over

While the saying, “You can’t teach old dogs new tricks,” may be true, am discovering that getting up there in years can increase a homo sapiens’ ability to change & grow.   

Saw it with my Mom, experiencing it myself.  Does this make it true for others, many or most of our species?  Maybe yes, maybe no.  But if it is true for the two of us, my bet is it’s true for many more.  For some of us – maybe the lucky few, maybe an unaware many – aging can be a catalyst, rather than enemy, of healthy change.  

For untold generations – possibly stretching back to the dawn of time – older people were recognized as knowing more than youngers.  The elderly were honored, revered for their wisdom.  Not some – all.  Because the older they got, the more years they had as source material for living.  

My guess, gauging from experience with Mom & now myself, is that the older we get, the more open we can be to making significant changes.  We've seen what doesn't work.  That can be a major butt kick.  

Speaking for myself, the core changes I'm working toward are downright invisible to most folks.  Only John notices my early morning rise & shine, how differently I respond to irks & irritations.  The changes I'm working toward are internal, don’t require special training or equipment that other people might spot.  Just an understanding head matched with a newly willing heart.

As I edge my way out of middle age, am discovering that my heart isn’t as locked onto doing dumb, self-destructive stuff.  Can look BACK & see the same foolish choices made over & over.  Am getting old enough to know better, with enough experience living to realize it's idiotic to see what doesn’t work & keep doing it.  A great, unexpected gift of growing older.

Mom calling  Kevyn Malloy with an SOS for help is a constant reminder that we are never too old to learn better ways of living.  Mom was 88 when she took that courageous step waaaaaay out of her comfort zone.  At 62, would be a wimp to think "too late now."   

Find myself thinking about the yucky breakfast Mom made as she tipped into her 80s - she changed from bacon & eggs to whole grain toast with a side of stewed prunes & apricots.  No one loved the smell of bacon frying more than Mom, the sizzzz… of the eggs as they cooked, partnered with butter-slathered toast & full-strength coffee.  She just didn't like the way those fab foods made her feel as the day rolled on.   

   vs.   

I scoffed that stewed prunes & apricots could be a better choice than eggs sunny side up, a rasher of bacon, a side of homefries, and a bagel with a smear of cream cheese.  HA!  My once-seemingly invincible body wasn't reminding me that comfort food isn’t so comforting to our well being.  Took age to hook onto that truth.  Am not at the prunes & apricot compote stage yet, but closing in.

Am not a psychologist, have zip training in anything geriatric, haven’t a single credential that any stickler might need to give my opinion credibility.  Still, I’ll stack my observed evidence of what is possible up against any scientist or researcher.  My blatantly empirical evidence indicates that what's true for old dogs doesn’t necessarily relate to old homo sapiens.  

This old dog (apologies to our cats) is constantly astonished at the new tricks that are easier to learn in my here & now.  My body shouts that I’m not getting any younger, my head knows the better choices to make, and my heart - realizing “If not now, when?” – is finally getting on board. 

It feels like age & experience can be a dandy catalyst for thinking, “For 60+ years, this hasn’t worked – let’s try something new.”  Sit with stillness, stay with the moment, roll over to a better way.  Pretty good new tricks, if you ask me!