My journey into elderhood is, quite frankly, determinate upon believing that I have passed through adulthood and am ready to go to the next stage of my development. However, I am not sure that growing older is a linear event because there are moments when, at 62, I will find myself back in the center of adolescence once again. A reaction worthy of a teenager steeped in self-centeredness will appear out of the blue and prompt me to say out loud to anyone who might be within earshot, “What was that all about? It’s like I’m back in eighth grade.” Then there are times when I might regress even further, into what feels like childhood with a parent watching from inside my head. I really try to keep my little one playful and sweet, full of wonder and innocence, especially when I am with my grandchildren who love my inner child. I try my wise woman out on them from time to time but they roll their eyes and help me to stop taking myself so seriously. Now and then though, I’ll catch the older ones pondering what I have just said, and an expression of both confusion and knowing will come over their faces. This is when I feel most like an elder. I have reached toward, and grabbed, a moment of who I am today – with all the years and experiences to back me up – and imparted what I believe to be truth to the younger generation who may not know it, but are craving the stories that elderhood can provide. In these moments I like who I have become. I am deeply centered and sure of myself. Not cocky or cynical like the adolescent could be, and without the ego defenses I needed during much of my adulthood.

For me, being in elderhood is both wonderful and daunting. I love feeling settled within and yet I am aware of the great responsibility I have to myself. This is another side to this stage of life: I cannot get away with behavior that isn’t “grown up.” I know because I have tried (my adolescent bleeding through again). My inner parent/witness, who has gratefully become unconditionally loving, will step in and remind me that being an elder is a gift of years well spent, time to relax and enjoy who I am rather than listening to the incessant inner judge. This does not mean that I am letting myself off the hook to sit and bask in the light of a setting sun. What I feel now is more permission to let ego enjoy the beach while my soul, who has never left my side, expands beyond the confines of my 62-year-old consciousness into unchartered territory where I can keep growing, without self-imposed limits.

In my opinion, there wouldn’t be any point in writing about elderhood without mentioning death. In the last decade I have been trying to make friends with what I have always thought of as the final stage. I realized that because of many early losses in my family I was frightened of death, and that the Native American saying “this would be a good day to die,” might be fine for them but certainly not for me. But fear of death is a self-imposed limitation. It creates separation and boundaries and sees death as a place rather than a passage. I am learning to expand my consciousness beyond my old beliefs, so that when the time comes for me to let go of my physical body I will do so gracefully and prepared. Just as childhood, adolescence and adulthood have prepared me for where I am now, the embodiment of every stage, the years of elderhood will help me to take the step out of body into whatever soul stage is next.

Longing for the Darkness

I am out of the box, over the edge,
dropping into the unknown,
opening wide to receive myself.
I am scared and yet I feel strong.
Ego clings to its comfortable boundaries,
but my soul is leading the way
Please God remember me.
I must not get lost in the darkness.
I can feel myself
falling into more grace,
seeing my life through a wider lens.
I am not there yet,
my vision is still blurred.
Oh, I don’t want to see.
Hold on, hold back, go slowly, stay here.
Everything is fine as it is.
NO!! I must go explore.
There is so much more.
There are so many dreams to dream.
Now, I feel terror in the unknown.
I am afraid I will lose myself.
God says “THERE IS NO SELF.”
Now, I am out of the box,
walking the spiral of life,
circling into self, losing the self.
I slip through God’s fingers
like sweet spring air.
I am gone in one breath,
the seeds of my life
are blown into limitless space.
I am falling away from myself.
I am gone.

Lisa Barstow’s essays and poems have appeared in numerous publications including the anthology
Mid-Life Clarity: Ephiphanies from Grown-up Girls.
Dividing her time between homes in Maine and Hawaii, Lisa is currently at work on a personal memoir. Visit www.lisabarstow.com