Last weekend my purpose was affirmed, but not in the way I expected. The difference: in the past my purpose was primarily focused on others, now it was clear that more focus must be on caring for me.
My daughter, her husband, and I went to San Francisco on Labor Day. It was a beautiful day - blue sky, a view of Alcatraz, and excellent food. We walked to Pier 39 and Fisherman’s Wharf - about 7000 steps on mostly flat pavement an easy walk.
At lunch, we continued a conversation I’d been having with her about all the things I can’t do anymore and how disheartening it was. My health is basically good. But arthritis in my knees make stairs and getting in and out of a car difficult, my fingers don’t work the way I want them to, and new aches and pains seem to be multiplying in addition to seeing and hearing issues.
She took out her phone and showed me videos of older women dancing, pole vaulting and running marathons to make the point that maybe - just maybe - I could do more in terms of gentle exercise. He suggested looking online for tips to help my knee. The conversation included numerous ideas and turned out to be motivating.
When I got home, I found a free movement-through-dance class offered by AARP, numerous sites for seniors interested in strength training, and ChatGPT provided a simple 20 minute per day knee routine. I dug my 2 lb. weights that were buried in the back of a closet out, and bought some protein powder. All of which brightened my spirit - offered some hope.
I’ve always thought of my life purpose as caring for others. At first, I took care of my younger brother, then my children. Finally, I cared for my husband as he struggled with dementia.
So, this was a dramatic shift to consider - caring for myself. Yet, it stands to reason that if I’m not physically, emotionally, intellectually, and spiritual healthy, I can’t continue taking care of others or better yet support them while they take care of themselves.
Below, I want to share what I’m finding in comparison to the general advice experts give.
Experts say when life feels profoundly changed, our pre-loss dreams may temporarily feel hollow. They suggest leaning into “micro-purposes”—like walking a pet, connecting with a friend, or preparing a meal—to give ourselves valid reasons to start each day.
What I’m Finding:
Micro-purposes are not a strong enough motivation to get me up in the morning.
However, I am finding ways to embrace aging well on my terms not in the ways society says.
Experts say that instead of letting go, we should look for ways to continue a bond with what was lost. This might include performing small rituals, honoring the influence they had on our life, or doing a kind deed in their memory.
What I’m Finding:
I agree. Life inevitably moves on and I’ve had to let go. Times change, I change, and my husband isn’t here, but my caring for him continues in other forms.
Creating the newsletter and writing the book allow me to stay close to him, as does wearing his wedding ring.
Experts say we must rebuild our identity. The person we were before the loss may not exist any longer, and they advise us to give ourselves permission to discover new interests, roles, and values.
What I’m Finding:
My husband and I were always active. After he died, I exercised, but it’s challenging to do it alone. I practiced Qi Gong for awhile but lost interest and stopped.
In some regards, I was building a new identity - an older woman who’s not active—and that is not the person I want to be.
I still am that active person. So, I’m looking for new and engaging ways to do so during this stage of life —which is what the Labor Day conversation provided.
Experts say that when the future feels like an empty space and big dreams feel hollow, we should rely on small purposes such as preparing a nourishing meal, walking a dog, or connecting with a friend.
What I’m finding:
Those small purposes do nothing for me.
In the process of aging well, though, I’m finding that caring for—and protecting—myself is an essential piece of the process.
Quality of life isn't necessarily about getting back what we lost. It's about finding meaningful ways to do what still matters to us within the life we have now.
A question to ponder is this: How might what matters to us find expression in the life we have now?
I would love it if you shared the Aging Well newsletter. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, above all, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.
So, please forward this email to a friend and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:
Thank you for being part of the Aging Well community.
Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for over five years and recently published the book, An Insider’s Guide to Aging - Longevity Through the Eyes of an 87-Year-old.
The Insider’s Guide to Aging Well brings together many of the ideas and themes we’ve discussed. It’s not separate from the newsletter, which is my primary focus, but an extension of it—a way to collect the articles in one place for those of you who may find that format more useful.
This link takes you to the book on Amazon. All proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer’s Association in my husband’s name.
Would you believe this is the 384th article posted in the newsletter over the last five and a half years? The question we are pondering this week is "How might what matters to us find expression in the life we now have? "
I so enjoy your sharing. Thank you for this newsletter.