On Getting Old

Getting old, being sick, dying—all these normalities of life—have been badly misjudged as something of a mistake, a misfortune, an umglick, a fault, a lapse. Somehow, we have been lulled and fooled into thinking that we are supposed to be above such things as aging. Our social system has it that there be no disorder, no distress, no difficulty that we cannot quickly cure with the right drug, or surgical intervention, the right bumper sticker, or new therapy. There must be many reasons for such social silliness, for such blatant disregard of the ways of nature. Let us try to begin to think about how it is that we humans are not supposed to have been made of organic life-stuff. All organic life-stuff, we know, ages and eventually dies. All organic life-stuff, we know, suffers disorder and occasional unrest in its very clinging to life. There is no such thing as an untroubled life without misfortune of one kind or another, as we know. And yet, we have been collectively and foolishly convinced that such difficulty is an aberration, a sign of failure, an error to be corrected. But, perhaps even more true, is that we “simply” may not want to die, or to get sick, or to get old—or to think about it. I believe that (a) the myth of eternal youth is one aspect of our delusion. I suppose because we (Western industrial society) are still a very young culture, we may not yet be ready to think about getting old. Also, (b) we believe anything is possible. The clock can be turned back not only from Daylight Savings Time but also from aging and dying. Because we can erase wrinkles, perhaps we can erase the underlying condition as well. We can do and be and have anything we want. We want to be a girl? So be it. We want to make babies and can’t? We can. We want to fly like the birds? Yes. We want to live forever? Fine. In our modern world, limits cannot be taken seriously. Wish fulfillment takes its place, and not just in dreams, but as a