Why Feeling Tired Ought to be Considered a Cherished Gift of Aging

I’m Old, So What?

I’m old. I admit it. I’m unembarrassed to acknowledge the fact. I never refuse to tell someone my age. In fact, I’m bloody proud to tell those who care.

The ingenious foils devised by folks to avoid uttering the dreaded number amuse me. The agonizing number tends to occur around 50. Or perhaps these days, it’s expanded to 60.

If it’s troublesome, though, why not: Make up a number and deduct ten years. No one knows or can guess anyhow.

Proud to Be A Senior

I adore the story of my brother-in-law, who is 86 years young. He lives in an Arizona retirement community where restaurants and other establishments commonly offer the cherished “senior discount.” It’s for those over 60 or 65 — everyone residing in those ‘hoods.

He asked for it at one restaurant, whereupon the 20-something-year-old child at the cash register shockingly replied, “Noooo, you can’t possibly be 65. That’s my grandpa’s age, and you’re not that old!”

Becoming somewhat irate, which can become his amusingly occasional personality, he bellered, “Damn right, I’m a senior citizen. I’m 82!” He wears his seniordom with pride and dignity.

She remained in disbelief because he had no gray hair (no dye job, just genetics; his father was blessed with the same black hair).

Finally, sufficiently annoyed, he pulled out his driver’s license, “See, I am 82!”

We Choose How We Wish to Age

I'm not yet an octogenarian; nevertheless, I’m far removed from “young” by societal norms. Except, hopefully, still at heart.

I’ve always maintained numeric digits are irrelevant. The trite age is a state of mind claim. For me, it’s defined by kindness, open-mindedness, a continuing desire to explore, grow and evolve, and enjoyment of new experiences.

Subscribing to those parameters, I’ve known countless 30- and 40-year-olds who are far older intellectually, adventurously, and spiritually than many who are 70- and 80-years.

How we approach the aging process is a choice.

Being Tired Is A Good Thing

Nonetheless, the decline of the physical manifestation of the skin, bones, muscles, and cells is irreversibly inevitable.

More and more frequently, because most of my friends naturally are older as well, I’ve received communication and complaints about how tired they are in recent years. Or expressed desires to have more energy.

Though empathic to the gripes, it’s primarily puzzling. My two immediate knee jerks are always the same.

The first is admittedly a self-absorbed one: Welcome to my world.

With fibromyalgia (now exceeding three decades), I recall very few days of not awakening tired, feeling weary all day with the majority spent horizontally on a sofa or bed, and falling asleep exhausted. Long ago, however, I accepted that limitation and realized it was a precious gift.

The second is more practical and philosophical. Why shouldn’t you feel tired?

Reality Check

You are no longer thirty or even a youngster of forty.

For decades, you’ve worked a long job or career (or possibly many), raised kids, tended to households and/or offices, managed businesses, raced around multi-tasking, and accomplished much.

You have spent your entire life being busy and active.

Doing. Going. Accomplishing. Moving. Producing. Doing More. Volunteering. Caring for children, parents, grandparents.

What If We Reframe, As Psychologists Say, Our Perspective?

During one’s final years, why not embrace feeling tired? Needing rest? Wanting to do far less or even little at all? Taking naps? Reading all those books you never got around to?

After all, aren’t those the benefits earned by surviving into senior citizenry?

And, god forbid, if one can no longer run, swim, or walk six or ten miles. Or garden on hands and knees for three hours. Or crawl around shopping malls all day. Or cook four-course meals without feeling tired or needing a nap.

To me, it’s sheer madness.

Why not embrace this blessed, quieter stage of our lives? Why not revel in the luxury of extra rest, naps, and inactivity? Why not savor sanity?

You have earned it. You deserve it.

Cultural Differences

Interestingly, the complaints always derive from US friends. Those in Mexico, India, and Bali accept moderation in lifestyles.

Not only is their daily existence not insanely driven as in go-go Western cultures, but acceptance of aging is that: Acceptance. Of. Aging.

Perhaps, too, a contributing factor is that elders are valued and respected in those cultures. They are not considered a nuisance or drain on society, as often is the case in the West.

Those of us raised in capitalistic, money-driven cultures, for the most part, are incapable of merely being or existing. We perpetuate those self-imposed demands to produce, excel, accomplish, accumulate, or compete.

Even after retirement. Despite illnesses or health challenges. Regardless of other extenuating circumstances. Even though they are no longer required by employment to be productive.

Philosophies About How To Approach Final Stages

In traditional Hindu culture, for example, life — at least for men — was divided into several segments. After one’s work and householder years, the final stages were spent in solitude, contemplation, meditation, and reflection.

Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung also categorized our lives into four phases. The final years, after an ego-driven earlier period, he considered as the spiritual or self-realization stage.

In Taoist philosophy, doing less or nothing is central to following Dao or The Way.

In our final years, feeling tired or having less physical energy affords a beautiful opportunity to slow down, reflect, think, and pursue the path of the Dao.

Question

Would we not be more content, relaxed, and fulfilled in our twilight years if we could accept being tired, having less energy, and being unable to accomplish much as a gift instead of a curse?

That’s my story, at least...and I’m sticking with it!

May we all find our unique way to age with grace, joy, and enthusiasm!

Thanks for your time.😎🙏

Victoria