In Meanings of Old Age and Aging in the Tradition
of India, Tilak and Pathak write:
"Both the Vedic
(brahmana) and Buddhist thinkers concurred that old age entails all kinds of
losses in physical and psychological terms.. . .the brahmana view is that old
age also brings in its train significant gains to the aging individual
notwithstanding the heavy losses inflicted by it. What is lost in physical and psychological
terms is more than made up in terms of the intellectual and spiritual gains. With increasing age the human mind
facilitates the mergence of quiescence which is the substratum (sthayibhava)
for the sentiment of supreme peace (santarasa). With age the spirit naturally
turns inward and becomes retrospective.
One disengages from the bonds of attachment to one’s family without
doing violence to either party." (P. 89)
In consulting Hindu scriptures, we find the recommendation for the sanyas stage of life:
(Reprinted
from Generations (Journal of the American Society on Aging) Winter 1999-2000, Vol
xxiii, No. 4)
“When a
householder sees his skin wrinkled, and his hair white, and the sons of his
sons, then he may resort to the forest....Let him always be industrious in
reciting the Veda....In summer, let him expose himself to the heat of five
fires, during the rainy season live under the open sky, and in winter be
dressed in wet clothes, thus gradually increasing the rigour of his
austerities....[Then] after abandoning all attachment to world objects....let
him always wander alone, without any companion, in order to attain final
liberation.” The Laws
of Manu, M. Mueller, ed.
Here is one example of the spiritual model of successful aging, so different from our conventional paradigm. The spiritual model begins with the primacy of the transcendent. It is based on the assumption that there is something greater than the ego-self, be that called God, eternal soul, the Tao, Buddha-Nature, or any of a hundred names. In the prime of life, we often neglect this Source. We're so absorbed by earning money, advancing a career, and raising a family that we've little time for anything else. Nor need we turn our thoughts toward an afterlife. Still young, it seems we'll live forever.
Yet age throws all this into question. Despite our
vitamin, exercise, and beauty regimens the body necessarily decays. Nor is our
mind impervious to bouts of forgetfulness and other distressing signs. Then
there are interpersonal losses. The kids move away, we lose touch with friends,
and suffer through the death of loved ones. At work, we no longer lead the
pecking order. There are others, younger, cheaper, more energetic, who may take
away our jobs. Thus age renders us all (to some degree) forest dwellers--stripped
of our habitual identities, poised at the edge of an abyss or the Transcendent.
The conventional Western model of successful aging
assume that the losses that attend age should be wherever possible combatted.
Let us be that "octogenarian on cross-country skis" hanging onto
midlife health and energy. But the spiritual model involves embracing
the "losses" of age, using them as modes of liberation.
From this perspective, growing old can be viewed as
an advanced curriculum of the soul. Life's first half had lessons of its own.
In the words of spiritual teacher Ram Dass, we were in "somebody
training," building an effective identity. But having mastered being
somebody, we become ready for the next lesson: how to explode past that limited
self-definition. Who am I, if not just this body, developing aches and
wrinkles? If not just "mom" or "dad," now that the kids
have moved away? If not the "Director of Personnel for a Fortune 500
company," now that I'm semi-retired? What is the true self that transcends
these roles? Aging raises these questions, and may provide the time and
perspective to engage them in depth.
What constitutes a good old age? In their new book, Successful
Aging, summarizing over a decade of MacArthur Foundation-supported
research, Rowe and Kahn (1998) provide the sort of answer well accepted in our
culture. Successful aging involves: 1) a low risk of disease and
disease-related disability; 2) a high level of mental and physical functioning;
and 3) a continuing active engagement with life. "In sum, we were trying
to pinpoint the many factors that conspire to put one octogenarian on
cross-country skis and another in a wheelchair" (p. xii). Who can quarrel
with this vision of good health, high function, and an active lifestyle, as the
very model of successful aging?
Using this spiritual model, it is no longer clear
that Rowe and Kahn's successful octogenarian on cross-country skis is better
off than that apparent failure in the wheelchair. After all, the cross-country
skier may be a shallow chap despite having powerful thighs. Conversely, the
wheelchair-bound elder might be richer of soul. Disability may have attuned
this person to the suffering of others, fostering a deep compassion. Perhaps
she also learned to let others help her, a lesson in humility. And who
knows how she spends those long hours sitting? Maybe it's a time for inward
meditation, or intercessory prayer for the world. Successful aging involves
coming to a wholeness of soul, whether on skis or wheelchair-bound."
