"They" say aging is "$%!?"

There are so many ways to look at life when the calendar page flips.

Watching 'Bubba', my 5-month-old grandson struggling with the transition into sitting, walking, and talking, I can't help but think, 'Being cuddled 100% of the time is super fun, but it's time to ungrasp those perfect little baby fingers from Grandma's burped-on sweater and start gleefully rolling around and exploring the world. Life is available to you at full steam!' Grandma says, 'Go Bubba Go!'

Watching my daughter agonize over the first tiny worry lines in her forehead, (undoubtedly due to Bubba and his two 4- and 6-year-old sisters), I can't help but think, 'Honey, those lines make you more beautiful than ever. They are your purple heart for your extraordinary efforts of becoming a successful woman, wife and mother. Life is going to get better and deeper as you enjoy this complicated, busy time of life.' Mom says, 'Go Honey Go!'

So why am I writing this blog?

Bubba

It's easy to be the clairvoyant Pollyanna when change is happening to everyone else, but looking in the mirror, what advice have I been giving myself?

It is time for reflection, not of the face staring back at me, but of my soul.

Here's where it all started. When my calendar turned to my 65th birthday, I wasn't prepared for the anxiety and dread of what that meant.

What had changed? And why was I all of a sudden negative about my tomorrows? After all, I had been uniquely trained and had tons of experience working in the senior living industry to know that the upcoming years can be the most wonderful time ever.

I also knew from Becca Levy's (Yale University) research that a positive mindset about aging can create 7.4 years of additional life—more time to watch Bubba and the girls grow up and witness my daughter's gazillion future smiles transforming into proud 'laugh lines.'

But let's face it, the classic 'models of aging' had been drilled into my head for most of my life. I was thinking, 'Midlife is complete, and now you're a senior citizen.' And, for some reason, that triggered a subliminal, previously muffled voice deep inside me... I was now over the hill, a silver-haired Q-tip, more forgetful, less capable...

As I mentioned, I spent most of my life working with "senior" citizens. However, in that arena, I never thought that being "over 65" was a bad stage of life. Whether my clientele lived in one of our communities, stayed in their own homes, moved closer to kids, or traveled, they often told me this was the happiest time of their lives.

Every day at work, I tried to spread positivity and encourage those around me not to let age affect their dreams or ambitions. I've celebrated friends who've done amazing things as 80-, 90-, even 100-year-olds... anything is possible! And in my heart, I truly believe this is true!

But in those first months on Medicare, something changed inside me. Typically, I had been a confident, curious person, but all of a sudden, I became unsure of myself. I started doubting my own decisions and stopped trying to grow in my work.

"Practice what you preach, Lisa" buzzed incessantly in my head, but I couldn't stop those nagging voices dominating the conversation... 'I am past my prime, give the younger their chance, 65 is time to retire...'

At work, I successfully hid my fresh, new insecurities for another year, but I eventually caved in to the self-inflicted foundational premise that 'at my age' I should retire. So, I did.

The logical reasons for retiring that I stated in my resignation letter were absolutely true, but only after I stepped away from the warm, comfy, vibrant, and secure work community I'd always known did I realize the underlying pressure I had been feeling about my own aging. I still had the 'It's all over at 65' blues.

Sure, retirement is going to be wonderful. Spending time with family and friends, sleeping in, enjoying the day-to-day more, etc. But looking into that mirror, it hit me that no matter how fun retirement is going to be, the 'aging is bad' voices are still there.

It's time to confront this, for me and for others who may be held back from their next moves. So here goes.

A couple of months ago, as a retirement gift, I got to spend 5 days at a MEA (Modern Elder Academy) workshop in Santa Fe, NM. The topic was, "Crafting Your Encore: Finding Purpose, Passion, and a Paycheck in Your Next Chapter." I seemed to be the only retiree in the bunch, but I was surrounded and supported by an incredible group of cohorts who were all delving deeply into their "soul mirrors." In a few days with some brilliant people who quickly showed me the door to the mental wall I was facing, I began morphing from being a terrified, confused "senior" into my "age doesn't matter," authentic self.

One of my new friends at MEA

You see, one of the many heart-opening experiences I had at the workshop was the realization that I've been a victim of ageism. So many of us are. Ageism is all around, telling us we're losing it—our health, our looks, our brains, our worth. We see it in advertising, movies, and television and have even felt it in the doctor's office. Ageism had crept into my psyche and set my "timer" well before I was done cooking. Too many of us need to do more than hit the "snooze" button. We need to turn those timers off!

I hope to encourage people to understand the concept that aging is a very good thing, not just for me personally, but for the universe. So that's what I'm going to do!

Oh, by the way, you are now part of this journey.

So, let's all throw out those "Over the hill" birthday cards (don't ever buy those for your friends!) and pop any black balloons you see.

This blog is about creating an awareness of ageism. It's a reinforcement that ageism is NOT okay. And hopefully, this can be a place where we can all share our stories and encourage each other to keep moving ahead with our heads held high.

My intention is to write weekly. I have no idea how to write a blog, but even if one person reads my posts, I'm reminding myself that Bubba and his sisters deserve a fully engaged Grandma who wants to kick ageism's ass.

Go Lisa Go