I’m looking at my ruddy face in a small, round, silver mirror. I look older than I remember. Thick eyebrows, salt and pepper hair; it looks the grayest to me right after a haircut. There is something about the way it lays across the black plastic smock, and falls in shredded pieces on to the floor. Accents of changing color. I don’t mind. It is my grandmother’s hair.
I have a little pouch under my chin. I hate to admit it. Blue eyes that used to be hazel. More blue with age. I don’t often look in a mirror. Once in the morning after my shower to spike my hair. I’m a fluff and blow person, not much fiddling around. I look in the mirror when I brush my teeth. That seems strange and I don’t know why I do it. I am looking into a mirror now. It was suggested in the Writing Topic on growing older; I thought it might push me (over the edge?).
The body gives out, breaks down. Elasticity is lost; wisdom gained. I don’t have a problem aging. Life is easier now than it was 20 years ago. I’m 34x happier. I worry that I won’t get everything done I want to do before I die. That goes back to the Bucket List. I don’t have any control over that. I am where I am. I’m in my 50’s.
Fifty used to seem ancient to me. Forty seemed ancient, too. I couldn’t imagine being 30. Decades have passed. The older I get, the more I know who I am. I have this theory about aging. I believe people become one of two things: happier and more settled in who they are. Or angry and bitter. That’s black and white. I’m sure there is gray. It’s something I have noticed. And so I keep watching to prove my theory right.
Old, cranky, bitter, judging, hoarding, fighting imperfection, not able to accept that the body is aging. Graceful, happier, wiser, content with who they are, willing to not be perfect, to pass the torch, giving what they have to the next generations to come.
Maya Angelou turned 80 years old on the 40th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s assassination. Do you think Martin knew he would not live to grow old? Or that Maya thought she would reach the age of 80? There were many articles written about her on April 4th. She is of the giving and wise variety. Yet she hasn’t shrunk from her responsibilities — as a woman, as a writer.
If Martin Luther King were alive, he would be one year younger than Maya. She was an aid to his cause, all those years ago. She still speaks for him through the way she lives her life. Think of everything she has seen.
I ran into a conversation between Maya Angelou and Oprah Winfrey. Maya, one of Oprah’s mentors, was talking about living according to your principles. She is a Clinton supporter, and under constant pressure, remains loyal to Hillary. She has written a poem for her. Oprah is outspoken for Obama. They debate, have long conversations. They each stand strong, loyal to their candidates. They are respectful. They remain friends.
You can talk about spiritual principles. Or you can live by them. Talk is easy. Cheap. Principles are the hardest to uphold when we want something. Or in the face of adversity. Angelou said courage is the most important principle – because without it, you can’t really live up to the others. We might think we want to live at all costs. And then something comes along we are willing to die for.
If you think about Dr. King, he had an offer to go back to a seminary and teach for a year right before he died. He wanted to go. To rest. But he knew it would feel like he wasn’t fulfilling his obligations. So he stayed true to his vision. And went to Memphis to support the sanitation workers. He marched at the front of the line, even though he was tired, worn out. And he dropped his head in despair when a group of young marchers at the end of the line erupted in violence. Maybe at the end, he felt old. He was not perfect. He was human.
I started thinking about Maya Angelou and Martin Luther King and their great courage. I pale in comparison. When I look at what they have each been through, I wonder why I complain about the obstacles that fall my way. But I have learned not to compare myself. Not to anyone. Not to other artists, or writers, or teachers. My demons are mine. I earned every age spot, wrinkle, and wart. I’m not young anymore. Yet I am the most alive inside I have ever felt.
Growing older — it is harder to keep the weight off. I could lose 20 pounds. You can’t see that on a blog. My friends look to my vibrant Spirit. My family loves me unconditionally. So does my partner. The mirror tells me I look sad. Tired. But my eyes are bright. My heart feels heavy. It will not last. It will pass. When I think about dying, I think about looking down on loved ones, urging them on toward their dreams, smiling, holding the space. The way my grandmothers Ada and Elise do for me.
When I visit the South with my mother, we often visit gravestones under plantation magnolias in ancient cemeteries. The history is there. We didn’t create it. But we carry it. We walk among the dead, recall living memories. The pilgrimage, for me, is to pay my respects. To those who have come before. I am in the lineage of the Southern mothers, fathers, grandfathers, great aunts, and grandmothers whose graves I visit. They are not there. My memories of them are.
I drive past the homes where relatives used to live. Some remain in the family. Some belong to complete strangers. I don’t know them. I never will. But I have to bear witness. I don’t want the dead to be forgotten. I don’t want to be forgotten. I want to be remembered. And so I remember and honor others.
Visiting graveyards, a wrinkle in time. The living commingling with the dead. It might sound morose. But I don’t think of it that way. In Kit Carson Memorial cemetery, Mabel is buried not far from the black, wrought iron around the Carson plot. She would not be amused. The more I think about it, the more I want to be scattered to the wind, high over some tiny, rocky beach on the Oregon Coast. No gravestone. No marker. I want to be remembered as a free spirit. Though no writer ever feels free.
I’m staring in the mirror again. “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”
You are.
-posted on red Ravine, Friday, April 11th, 2008
-related to Topic post, WRITING TOPIC – GROWING OLDER and the post, 40 Years
redravine.wordpress.com 
QM, it’s true, from your writing I would call you ageless. You have a youthful spirit, because each time you write you discover someting new, and reveal it here on the page.
I appreciate so much your comments on Maya Angelou, Martin Luther King, memories, walking among the dead, keeping the dead alive through our memories of them, even the ones we didn’t know personally.
Even as a child I felt drawn to cemeteries, not a morbid attraction, more of a curiosity about who the dead were. Now that I’m older, I still wonder how this life came to be what it is.
Great post, very thought provoking. You ended it just right.
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Ditto, QM. Your writing is present, alive. I can see your face staring back at you, staring at all of us from the round mirror.
On your theory about two ways to grow old, I’ve seen both, although I have to say I’ve not met many bitter old people. Maybe I’ve been lucky that way. I guess if there is a gray, it might be the eldery person who is plagued by illness. Even a wise, graceful old person can become fearful when confronting pain and disease.
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Yes, you are. 🙂
I think your theory may be correct. Or at least it seems that way to me. I’ve known people who are one or the other, rarely in between. I wonder if that’s because age sort of forces us to choose one extreme or another? Acceptance or denial. Or maybe it’s just a time of reckoning — those who have lived full lives or taken some risks in life being less likely to become bitter and grumpy.
I’ll be 50 this year and even though I used to think 50 was ancient, now I see it as a great age. Perhaps it’s because, like you said, I know myself better now. I’m happy in who I am.
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QM, I agree that this was a very thought provoking post! I enjoyed reading every every word. You touched almost every realm of growing older.
I also feel wiser with age & happier than I was in my 20’s. For some reason the turning point came when I turned 35.
I believe that the bitter old people are those who were very insecure & vain in their younger years. Never able to adjust to the adversities that come with living.
I seldom look in the mirror. Since I wear very little makeup, I could easily apply it without the help of a mirror. No magnifying makeup mirror for me! I try to remain young at heart. Much more satisfying. We can’t change the physical aspects of growing older. We can only disguise them. I choose not to do so.
I also caught the Oprah show with Maya Angelou. Very inspirational lady! She is timeless!
You are truly a very wise person QM. I am a bit curious as to how you came up with the figure “34x happier”? Did I miss something?
The ending to the post was perfect! D
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diddy, I had to go back up to the practice and look at that 34x, and you are right, it doesn’t make logical sense. The only way it makes sense is that if you add up the numbers in these two lines, you get the age I will be this year:
Life is easier now than it was 20 years ago. I’m 34x happier.
It’s a good point about Writing Practice. I often notice that when I do a practice, my mind will sometimes not quite get the logical association. That has to come later in the editing.
So if I were to go back and edit this practice for a finished piece, those two lines would read:
Life is easier now than it was when I was 20. I’m 34x happier.
The idea was to add 1 year of happiness for every year older I am past 20. Does that make ANY sense at all!
diddy, doing a Writing Practice on that turning point that came when you were 35 might be eye-opening. Something shifted a fundamental way that you thought about yourself and your life. Writing Practice might take you to what it was. It sounds important for your writing.
About the mirrors, I was thinking when I did this post that many women are tied to mirrors from putting on makeup every day. Men shave, but it’s not the same ritual. “Putting on your face” was what we called putting on makeup when I was growing up.
I also wanted to say there are some cultural things behind it. Liz and I watched a show last weekend on young Southern women. And there is a lot of pressure still to look good and honor some of the Southern traditions of the way a lady should look, act, behave. It was really eye opening. Because I know I grew up around that. And so did Mom. There is so much pressure put on the way women and girls look. And even more so in certain cultures. It’s interesting to think about.
Thanks for your kind words. 8)
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Christine, thank you so much. When I went back and reread this practice, it reminded me of your black and white photographs of your family, and your grandmother in particular, that you posted on your blog a few days ago. I loved looking at those photographs.
We are tied to the past by nature of our families, cultures, and the places where we grew up. Sometimes it takes a while to come to terms with that. As a woman, I feel tied to the lineage of women in my family.
I’m glad I’m not the only one who is drawn to cemeteries. I pass 4 of them in my daily travels and pay particular attention to them. One is a Jewish cemetery on a hill and way removed from the traffic off the now busy street where it is located. That’s the one that really tugs at me to walk. It looks like it is laid out in circles. If I do visit, I’ll keep you posted.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Maya Angelou because we are reading her our poetry group tonight (I think I mentioned here, my friend, Teri, started a poetry group that meets once a month and I am just loving it). When I read about Maya’s connection to Martin Luther King, I started thinking about the differences and similarities in their lives. Both impactful people. One died so young. One lived well into the future. It’s the juxtaposition, the intersection that kept gnawing at me. I want to pay attention.
It reminds me — a friend of mine started a series of paintings and she has started adding a dab of color and working it into the places in the painting where the circular lines intersect. Maybe we’re drawn to make connections we can relate to.
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ybonesy, thank you. And good point about failing health. Or a person who is fearful at aging because they are plagued by illness. I think that might be a whole other ball game. And a wise, caring person can be intensely challenged by the aging process if their health is failing. I am glad you brought that up.
About meeting bitter older people, I don’t have many in my life personally. But I have sure met them, heard them, seen them interact with other people. I hope I continue to have more acceptance of aging and continue to live into my dreams to the best of my ability. In recovery there are 3 “A” words that carry the day: Awareness, Acceptance, Action. The acceptance is what moves us forward. And allows us to let go.
I also wanted to mention, I meet people my own age, middle age, who are starting to become bitter. It’s almost like they are at a crossroads with the rest of us – and choose, for whatever reason, to go down the path of bitterness and blame. I don’t know what makes one person choose one thing, and another something else. But I suspect it has to do with our own internal demons. And our willingness to look them dead in the eye, and hang in there.
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Robin, that last line – it came straight out of the Writing Practice. And after I wrote it, I immediately went — “What? Where did that come from?” And I even had to go back and see what fairy tale story it was from. I could not remember. It came completely from the subconscious. I guess Snow White and the Brothers Grimm had an impact on me somewhere along the line.
You seem on to something, too, how age has a way of forcing us to choose one extreme or the other. Acceptance or denial. And about full lives – sometimes people can live full lives but feel like they wish they had made different choices. So they would not trade their lives – but at the same time – they wonder “what if.” Boy, regret can sure eat away at any kind of happiness or acceptance, that’s for sure.
When are you going to turn 50? Will you do a birthday post? 8) I think 50 is a big one. You’ve lived half a century.
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Yes, you are, QM, the most beautiful of all. It’s good that you realize it and that it has nothing to do with the mirror but with your soul. i think what comes across clearly from your writings and photos is that you are a constant seeker, wonder at much, and have a lot of love of life to share with many others. Is that a gift from the females of your family, of whom you are a proud torch-bearer. You pass it by what you do, so thanks for this beautiful, heartfelt post. G
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I actually started on a birthday post, figuring a half century is a lot of time to cover. I sort of lost steam after a few days of on-and-off working on it, and will likely pick it up again when I have time (and inclination or inspiration, both of which are important).
I’ll be 50 in December. That gives me plenty of time to work on it or, as usually happens, start over with a new idea.
Regrets are like rust, eroding away at us as we age. It’s not that I haven’t had moments when I thought “I’d like to change that.” I have and do. Then I realize if I changed it, I wouldn’t be in the same place I am today. I sometimes like to think there are alternate me’s in alternate universes taking different paths so it all plays out. 🙂
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QM, now that makes perfect sense to me! I knew you were one year older than me, so I thought that was the direction that you were headed in. The 20 years ago threw me off. I like the 34x! And I agree that you are quite a beautiful person! D
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What a profound line, Robin: Regrets are like rust, eroding away at us as we age. Fifty is a big milestone. I’m a believer in making a big deal out of 50, although I have to say that my husband turned 50 last year, and try as I did to celebrate it in a big way, he wouldn’t have anything to do with a blow-out party. So, we had a small surprise gathering — just his siblings and their families, the girls and I, and a couple of friends — at his favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant. We had to arrive right as it opened, as it only has a few tables.
What will you be doing to celebrate?
G., I was struck by this description of QM: Is that a gift from the females of your family, of whom you are a proud torch-bearer. You pass it by what you do… I never knew the women in QM’s family until we started this blog. I have to say, now knowing QM’s MOM, brother, sister-in-law, and occasionally another couple of women-folk (; 0), including nieces and brother’s girlfriend, I believe your description is right on. And it’s the whole family, even the men and the partners who’ve come in via the siblings — strong, grounded, curious, great cooks, light-hearted yet serious, reverent of the past, present, and future.
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QM- I’m so proud of you. You are such a caring person inspite of all you’ve been through in your short life time.
Growing older, never old , is a lot to think about !! I’m not bitter and I’m not afraid of dying. I guess because I think of it as going to a better place and reuniting with family and friends that have passed that way before me. I am a little afraid of being unable to take care of myself, even though I have many who will look out for me.
There are a few things that I would have changed in my life, but there is no reason to fret over spilled milk, as they say. We make our beds and lie in them. A person just has to make the best of what has happened and go on. We just have to try to do better . If everyone would do unto others as they would have them do to them , wouldn’t the world be a wonderful place to be !!!
If we had been rich our family would not be as we know them now. I have been on the very poor end but never felt poor. It was just life as I knew it. There have been many times that I wasn’t sure how we would make it ,but something always happened to make it work out. What do they say?, where there is a will there is a way. I believe that. Things may not always be as we hope but it is that way for a reason. God looks out for those that believe.
I wouldn’t change my family for the world. Love to all of you ! We all should look back to the good happenings and hold onto them and not fret over what may have been.
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[…] I was inspired to write memory and aging after reading a writing practice essay titled “Growing Older,” by Quoin Monkey at red Ravine (one of my favorite […]
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I just noticed your site this morning. It really makes me think. These are all issues I (probably everyone) is dealing with, but you express them so well. I will be considering and revisiting some of your thoughts and insights…your photographs speak to me as well. I’ll be back…
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QM this was beautifully written. I have seen your beauty through your words and images here.
I love this age…it is my most favorite (so far).
When I turned 50 I celebrated by having my nose pierced! It took me two years to prepare for it. I wanted to mark a half of a century. My main concern was telling my 32 year old daughter what I had done. hee, hee.
You are quite the fair maiden!
Thank you for sharing this.
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I’ve been meaning to get back to this post to comment. Thank you all for the kind comments. I notice how much I learn about myself and the way others view me when I post one of my Writing Practices. ybonesy and I agree that it’s hard to go public with a writing practice. When we first post them, we both feel vulnerable, no matter the content. I’ve been watching myself closely as we continue to publicly post these. And ybonesy and I talk about it often at our meetings.
G. & ybonesy, what a kind thing to say about the women in my family. And my family in general. I do feel a strong connection back through the women in my heritage. The things that they have gone through have made me stronger. I like to think we can all build on the past, and learn from it. One thing I have learned over time is how incredibly strong women are — across all generations, all classes, all cultures. Women are able to hold a lot of pain and adversity and rise above. I feel proud to be in the lineage of women.
ybonesy, thanks for your comments on getting to know my family through red Ravine. I have gotten to know them better, too, in their comments, both on and off the blog. And that has been one of the biggest surprises of starting this blog.
It’s true, my brothers and the men in the family are wonderful, caring people. I feel extremely lucky for their thoughfulness and heart. When you described my family — strong, grounded, curious, great cooks, light-hearted yet serious, reverent of the past, present, and future – you forgot STUBBORN! (like me!).
G. I really appreciated this — you are a constant seeker, wonder at much, and have a lot of love of life to share with many others. I can honestly say, I get up every day and love my life. It is not perfect, I still get down, and sometimes fail. But I struggled a lot more earlier in my life.
I used to be a lot more afraid to take risks. It helps that I feel I don’t have to go it alone anymore. In this one moment, I am the happiest I’ve ever been. It’s true, I am curious and constantly seeking. It can be a curse! But it keeps me moving forward.
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[…] National Poetry Month. I went to my monthly poetry group last Friday. We talked about the life of Maya Angelou, read her poetry, sat in silence between poems. We listened to her voice. This is the 3rd month we […]
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MOM, I hope you know that your quiet strength, independence, willingness to move forward from the heart, (even when others might not be in agreement, or have other opinions), and big heart have given me much strength. When time goes by, it is easier to look back and see parents, people, places, and events in a more whole way. To see them in the context of the time that they lived. You always encouraged us to follow our hearts.
I still remember last June when I was talking to an Aunt (your step-sister) that I had not spoken to in probably over 40 years. I think I told you this, but I wanted to share it again. She said to be sure to tell you hello. And to tell you that she always admired how you went after what you wanted, that you were independent in a time when it wasn’t popular for women to speak their minds, and that you had always inspired her. What a gift.
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jan doble, thanks for stopping by! I hope you will visit again.
gypsy-heart, how did your 32-year-old daughter take the nose piercing (comment #16)? That was a brave thing to do at 50. And did it hurt? I remember when I got my ears pierced in the early 70’s. Back then they did it with a long, long needle and it did hurt. I almost fainted!
When I turned 50 I had a birthday celebration/ritual at two friends’ home. I wanted to let go of some old baggage, focus on the new, start fresh. It was very powerful. They gave me the gift of a reading at a local astrologer. That, too, was powerful, and she predicted a lot of the things I ended up doing over the last few years. I am really enjoying my 50’s!
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QM, what a loving tribute to your family (comment#17)! Stubborn? I hadn’t noticed that about the men in the family! Ha! just teasin’!
Anyhow, I took your advice & last Sunday I did my writing practice on growing older. I hadn’t read it again until today!
Wow! What it revealed was remarkable! Most of what I wrote was about the boys, nieces & nephews, friends’ children & Brant. It goes without saying that they are all growing older. None of what I wrote had anything to do with me personally growing older. I guess that a lot can be said of “just yesterday”… When I was younger one of my favorite sayings was “When pigs fly”.
(probably my fascination with pigs!) But pigs don’t fly, however, time sure does! D
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QM~ It did hurt..much to my surprise!
I finally told my daughter over the phone. I told her to sit down because I had to tell her something.
After I told her she said “good god Mother..I thought you were seriously ill or something!”
So I guess I did all the worrying for nothing! 🙂
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