I have been reflecting upon a wonderful metaphor/phenomenon that has been occurring in one of the groups I’ve been part of. Switchbacks, the food source that keeps on giving and sometimes over feeds me.
A New Perspective on Age
The mission of Age In America is to demonstrate that we are all essentially the same–human and interesting and imperfect; to dispel the myths and stereotypes about aging; and to help eliminate discrimination of people based on age.
Making Solitude Out of Loneliness
Solitude has become an everyday thing. It is my way of staying true to the one within me. My new world of social relations is enriched by the presence of this one. I am alive as never before.
I’m Just Trying to Have a Good Day
Imagine what your ideal typical day would look like. Not a holiday or a ‘best day of your life’ kind of day, rather, what would it look like if you could map your ideal typical day? A day that if you had to live it 365 days in a row would leave you feeling resourced and joyful.
Independence
As a disabled person who has kept a semblance of independence, while dealing with utter physical dependence. Losing my independence, and becoming reliant on others, has paradoxically shown me what independence really is. It isn’t what I’ve been taught. In fact, it doesn’t rest upon any physical condition at all.
Check Your Ageism, Science. It’s Unbecoming
Calls for a de-youthanized science are not lofty, liberal political appeals; they are attempts to actually purify gerontological science and practice. A de-youthanized science means a more valid, generalizable science—a science, for example, that adequately samples older adults in the service of providing sufficiently evidence-based recommendations for diagnosis and treatment
Dispensability
As I reflect upon the improbability of my ripening, I often turn with delight and inspiration to the life and death of Nelson Mandela. Mandela taught us that giving the self, once it has ripened, is elder wisdom, and the apotheosis of maturation.
A Guiding Star
When I was a toddler, I used to sit for hours on the floor under my maternal grandmother’s frame of stretched cloth and look up to watch her sew beads and spangles onto fabrics that became wedding gowns, banners, flags, altar cloths, and other decorative pieces.
