The Real Problem With Aging


Evolve or die. Adapt or get left behind.

Those two lines have swirling around in my mind for months now. I haven’t been quite sure how to broach this subject properly, but I’ve unexpectedly gotten the day off of work (over-staffed instead of under-staffed for once) so I’m going to try to tackle it today. The subject? Aging. Or rather how our society handles it.

Let me preface this by saying that I may be an odd person to write this post seeing as I have been “old at heart” basically my entire life. Even as a child/teen, I was often taken for being older than I was. I was often taken for being older than my sister despite being 1.5 years younger. I also remember being a freshman in college & frequently having other students assume I was a senior. I don’t think any of that had to do with how I LOOKED- rather it was how I behaved. Furthermore, I have always been someone who would prefer a night at home reading a book over a night out “on the town” (e.g. a club, bar, or party). I have never thought this made me an old grump, just an introvert who is very happy with her own company. Neither have I ever been the type of person to really follow trends- be they fashion, music, TV, etc. If something is wildly popular at any given time, I can almost guarantee that I’m following/aware of it only marginally at best. I’ve just never been overly interested in what “everyone else” is doing- probably because early on in my life I learned that “everyone else” is often not interested in me. Or is just boring. All that to say, yes, I’m very happily “old at heart” in many ways & have been for most of my life. But that doesn’t mean I have to be old in every way. Let me explain.

Perhaps it’s because I turned 35 fairly recently, which puts me equally close to 40 as to 30. Perhaps it’s because I can’t find the energy to be bothered by that- rather I just find myself grateful to be healthy & to have already accomplished many of my life goals. (After all, as a nurse I have seen countless people younger than I am who are chronically very ill or who have even died; thus, I’m constantly reminded how good I have it.) Whatever the reason, I’ve been finding myself thinking a lot more about aging lately. And how I don’t like a lot of what I see, even from my own generation. This is probably naivete speaking, but I always thought my generation was going to be the one to not turn into grumpy adults. I thought we’d be the ones who didn’t repeat the mistakes of previous generations. Ha! Yeah, that was dumb, wasn’t it? There are some very legitimate reasons that we Millennials are often grumpy these days- our generation has not had it easy, despite what some Boomers may think. But that’s a whole other post for another day.

Having said that, I’m disappointed, y’all. I really am. I see so many posts & memes on social media these days about “the good old days” of the 90s & early 2000s, & while I can relate to some of them & certainly giggle at some of them, I’m also bothered by the fact that so many of us seem to have already put on the proverbial rose-colored glasses about our childhood/adolescence. Maybe it’s just because I was a nerd, so I didn’t always have the best/easiest childhood experience, but I for one do NOT miss any time before age 18. I just don’t. Are there THINGS about it I miss? Sure, a few- but not a lot. The point is the world was not perfect when we were growing up- it’s NEVER been perfect (& it never will be)- & there is no need to constantly romanticize the past & cover up the problems we had then. Nor it is necessary to gripe about how easy the kids have it now. They actually DON’T have it easy. No generation ever does. The easy thing to do is to be that annoying old(er) person who says “Oh man, these kids don’t know how good they have it. When I was a kid…” Have I said such things myself? Yes, a few times- but I always feel like a fool afterward. The truly mature thing to do is to acknowledge that every generation has its challenges, & there is nothing to be gained by putting down those younger than us. It doesn’t help them. It doesn’t even help us. All it does is scream insecurity with our own lives.

Now I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t have & outright refuse (at least for now) to use TikTok, Twitter, or Snapchat. Same for Alexa or any of those other personal assistant devices people use in their houses. (They are creepy as hell to me.) So maybe I am the old grump who refuses to adapt to the times! But here’s the thing- just because I’m not interested in using a new form of technology doesn’t mean I automatically think it’s garbage. I’m not running around saying “TikTok is ruining humanity!” The main reasons I don’t use these other apps is simply because I don’t need another time-suck. Instagram, Facebook, & YouTube are enough for me. And they’re probably too much as it is, if I’m being really honest. The point is just because something is new or different, I don’t immediately decry it as Satan’s latest & greatest attempt to take down humanity. The reason I don’t is because people have been saying that about EVERY new technology since the beginning of time. And it has NEVER been true. There was a time when people thought electricity was evil (technically some still do). Then it was the radio, then TV, then the internet, etc. The way I see it is technology itself is rarely, if ever, the problem. It’s what we DO with it that matters. That’s where the problems can come into play. WE are the problem, not the technology itself.

Now here’s where it gets really tricky & where I have to ask myself if I’m being a hypocrite. I’m actually a bit nervous to write this part because I’m afraid of who I might offend. But I believe in it strongly enough that I’m going to take the risk. Ok, deep breath, here we go.

I am sick of the anti-aging industry BS & how so many of us have bought into it. It seems to me many of us are more worried about LOOKING old than ACTING old. Now I’ll be the first to admit that I may be part of the problem. Why? Well, you see, I am nominally a Rodan + Fields consultant. I use R+F eye creams on a daily basis to prevent wrinkles, under-eye bags, etc. And I technically sell them. I say technically because I categorically refuse to engage in the vast majority of the tactics I’m “supposed” to do as a consultant- because it just feels wrong to me on many different levels. I have no judgement on those who do those things- especially if being a consultant is their main (or only) source of income. But for me I’m just doing this for the discount on the products I was already using. And if I can sell a little here & there & help people feel more confident in their skin, great! But that’s it.

Anyway, my real concern is with all the lip fillers, Botox, & plastic surgery I’m seeing these days. Now a lot of this is from women on Instagram whom I don’t actually know. But it bothers me just the same because these people are sending a message that this kind of behavior is normal. I’ve asked myself a thousand times why any of this stuff is different than using anti-aging face creams. Maybe it isn’t. But somehow it feels different to me. If my daughter sees me putting on a face cream, I highly doubt she thinks anything much of it. But if she were to see me going to a salon & paying money to have people inject me with chemicals that truly alter my appearance, I have to think that would send a very different message to her. A message that says “Your body isn’t good enough as it is. You need to change it.” And I for one do not EVER want to send that message to my child. Not to mention these lip injections just look ridiculous. These women are walking around looking like they got stung by a bee all the time. Every man I’ve ever spoken to about this has said the same thing- “Looks ridiculous. I hate it.” Now I’m not saying we need to constantly please men with our bodies, but at the same time I have to think that a lot of women are doing this stuff to be more attractive to men. Whether men like it or not is probably irrelevant, but I am definitely concerned about the motivations behind these behaviors because they all scream insecurity to me. The prevailing message these days is “If it makes you happier with your body, just do it!” That’s such a tempting message to give into but I do not think it’s healthy. And I’m not going to stop saying that even if it makes some people uncomfortable.

Now don’t worry, I’m not judging anyone for dying their hair to cover the greys. I’m finding more & more of those myself these days & the temptation to cover them up is definitely there. But I’m also lazy & can’t seem to find the motivation or time to worry about something so trivial. Now I’ll gladly admit that I may feel differently if I were single. But as a happily married woman whose husband couldn’t care less about it, I just can’t seem to bother at this point. As a kid, whenever my mom said she was embracing her greys, I inwardly cringed. I thought “I’ll never care so little for my appearance.” Well, guess what, guys? Now I know why she said that & I totally get it. It had nothing to do with not caring about her appearance. You see, I don’t know about y’all, but I no longer feel the need to be attractive to teenagers or people in their 20’s. What do I care if they think I look old? I AM old, at least in their eyes, by virtue of my age alone. Again, I’m self-aware enough to admit that I might feel differently if I were single at 35. But I’m not.

Now back to the first lines of this post: Evolve or die. Adapt or get left behind. As we get older, it is so easy to stop evolving, stop adapting, to just say “I’ve peaked. This is it.” But that is exactly the kind of “old” attitude we need to reject-THAT is the real problem with aging. We need to stop worrying so much about wrinkles & grey hairs & start worrying about continuing to grow as human beings. LOOKING old isn’t a problem. ACTING old- & by that I mean refusing to learn, grow, or consider the experiences/feelings of those younger/different than you- THAT is a problem. And in that way, no matter how many wrinkles or grey hairs I amass, I for one will forever seek to be YOUNG at heart.

The Inspiration Behind the Blog


I’ve been meaning to share this for a while & honestly just keep forgetting. I figured some of you might like to know the inspiration behind the title of this blog. If you’ve read the “About” page you know it’s from a poem I wrote a while ago but I’ve never shared the poem on here. I wrote the poem about 3:00 am one night last year when I couldn’t sleep because my mind was just wandering & doing its usual bit of simply THINKING too darn much. I wanted desperately to write about how I was feeling but the words just wouldn’t come. So I wrote a poem about not being able to write . . . and it worked! I don’t always get that lucky but I remember feeling so relieved after writing this poem because it restored my faith in myself as a writer & in general my faith that life, though difficult at times, is well worth the struggle.

writing

I’ve written quite a few poems in my life & plan to share more of them on here in the future. I must say this one is one of my favorites because it really was a moment of catharsis for me when I wrote it, I suppose because to me it so perfectly describes how my mind feels so much of the time: lost in a thicket of musings, or in other words pondering entirely too many ideas at once so that it’s difficult for me to ever truly relax. And quite often when I try to verbalize all of these “musings,” whether in spoken conversation or in writing, I’m suddenly left quite speechless & unable to describe them at all. I also love that I was able to touch on several other important themes in my life including the desire to be a writer above all else, the desire to change or leave some important mark on the world, & the feeling that maybe I am really a bit crazy after all.

I started this blog mostly as a way for me to “vent” all of my ideas & feelings about life & in doing so to hopefully reduce my own stress & anxiety levels while also perhaps inspiring or encouraging others to do the same or to ponder the same questions I have about life. That is why I thought the title A Thicket of Musings was so fitting for this blog. To a certain extent I think my mind will always be caught in a thicket of musings because it’s just a part of my very nature to think, think, think about everything all the time. But I find that in writing I feel less lost in this proverbial thicket of musings & more capable of enjoying the process. Some days I feel certain I’d trade just about anything to just not THINK so much about everything but in my heart I know I belong in a thicket of musings & I really wouldn’t have it any other way.

What about you? Do you ever feel like you just can’t stop thinking about things? Like there are so many ideas swarming around in your head but you can’t actually pin down any of them? Do you ever wonder if you’re the only person to ponder certain things (even though logically you know with six billion or more people in the world that’s nigh impossible)? If so, join me in A Thicket of Musings today & let me know your strategies for dealing with these thoughts.

Ok, enough talk about it.  Here’s the poem:

I used to be able to write poems

Nothing great or fancy

Just short little ditties

That somehow healed the wounds in my soul

Which life inevitably brings

But now words never seem to come to me

I’m lost in a thicket of musings

That I can never quite define

If could be anything in the world

I’d be a writer

When I was in fifth grade that’s all I wanted

I wrote about it in my autobiography that year

But all the great ideas that are in my head

Never seem to make it onto paper

(Or since this is the digital age

Perhaps I should say the computer screen)

It’s 3:00 a.m. and I can’t sleep

My body is exhausted but my mind is wide awake

When I was a child I thought I’d be a failure in life

If I didn’t somehow become famous someday

But now I don’t envy celebrities of anything

I think their lives are mostly miserable

Nonetheless I won’t be satisfied

If I don’t leave a mark on this world somehow

Is it normal to wonder about such things at 3:00 a.m.?

Or even at all?

Or am I just as strange and crazy as I’ve always feared?

Ah, you see what I just did there?

I wrote a poem about not being able to write a poem

Maybe there is still hope after all

Good night . . .

Or is it good morning?