Entering the forest

One of my favorite Japanese poems reads,

 I have always known
That at last I would
Take this road, but yesterday
I did not know that it would be today.
     (Narihira, 9^th century)

 That poem has come back to me at different points in my life, events such as marriage, the birth of my children, the deaths of my parents, and other major transitions.

Old age is not exactly a point in time but more a gradual path into a forest. It is a condition we’ve all suspected we’d face someday, although as a young adult, I found it hard to apply the concept of “old” to myself.

But here I am. Or am I?

For the last couple of years my husband Hal and I have frequently asked ourselves the following question:

Are We Old Yet?

he asked me and I couldn’t answer him.
Old? Is there a line in time
called “old” where one day
you’re not there
and the next you cross over
and you’re in?

It’s all strange territory.
“The Golden Years,” it’s called,
second childhood, maturity,
the third stage of life, retirement,
or the Spanish version, jubilee.
The experts (who are here, there
and everywhere) tell us
there are three stages:
young old age, middle old age
and old old age.
I guess that’s helpful.

So where are we?

Something inside tells me
that when we stop asking silly questions
we will have arrived.
But without the questions
how will we know where we are?

In the meantime, as long as
our legs hold us upright
and our eyes and ears
are somewhat operational,
we’ll just keep on walking,
looking around, listening
and asking questions.
Are we old yet?

I’ve entitled this blog site, Life in an Old Growth Forest: Reflections on Aging. I love trees and forests. The aging process feels in many ways like entering a forest. The further in we hike, the darker it seems to become. But light sifts through the leaves, and the ground is rich in plant and animal life. Even the fallen trees nourish the soil.

A few years ago, Hal and I made a major life transition and moved into a retirement community. Although resistant at first, we’ve found this forest full of life and hidden surprises. The leaves move in the breeze (some more slowly than others), and the trees are constantly talking to each other.

One of my purposes in initiating this blog is to explore the realities of aging, the highs as well as the voids, and learn to face it with courage and humor.

A little about myself: I am a poet, a wife/mother/grandmother, a friend, an amateur theologian, a career missionary, a recorded Quaker minister, and a follower of Jesus. Writing is both the most joyful and the most agonizing work I do. Sometimes it’s pure play. Sometimes it’s prayer.

At 76 years old, writing this blog is part of my strategy for finding a good path through the forest. I’d love to have you join me.