It is ridiculously presumptive of me to write about the subject of old age. I am threescore and 15 years old. There are many people older than I and there are many who are more eloquent in describing the issues of old age then I will ever be.
I have mentioned before that the most debilitating effect of old age, for me, has been the disintegration of my networks that allowed me to be an activist and to carry out the many social change activities of my life.
I would never complain about the physical disabilities of old age, I am a happy person and do not give into the self serving need to complain.
There is something about old age that has come as a great shock to me. With the disappearance of a complex and active life I am finding that I am increasingly satisfied with less and less activity.
Why is this a surprise? Because I have always assumed that I wanted more leisure to carry out the category of activities that I considered less important than the major activities of my daily life. I saw leisure as a respite to do the minor chores like sit down and read a long forgotten book, slowly.
I find that this is not the case. With the disappearance of my daily-active-engaged life I am left without any sense that I am missing something. To put it another way, when I was very busy I assumed that I would always be envious of myself as a busy person. Not true. Now that I am NOT busy I see the busy parts of my life as having wonderful rewards but I no longer desire that kind of determination. I don’t miss the excitement of constant novelty.
I am enjoying some of the stable, long standing, enduring facets of a stable mellow life.