Life Is a State of Mind

As the daylight dwindles down to its soon to be shortest days, I marvel, as I always do this time of year; of nature’s beauty to transform the abundance of summer’s harvest into a colorful show of aging glory. Leaves are dancing in the autumn wind, with the cleanest and crispiest air of the year, coaxing them off their clinging trees into the sky to parachute down on the ground at my feet. 

After spending five years, of my early life in the Phoenix, Arizona deserts, I remember my first east coast autumn, like it was yesterday. While more than five decades later, I am as excited as my young self to be raking the colorful leaves into piles in our yard. Those piles of leaves became hours of fun to run and trounce or kick up into the air and for them to once again fly and float for hours of delight. I know our Mother loved this time of year too, as I can hear her voice today encouraging my brother, sister and I to, “go outside and play.”

I am one year and four months from my sixtieth birthday and feel this season of my own life, as it is often referred to, as the “autumn years.” The Gestalt term “The Fertile Void” describes a “resurgence of energy to create”, where according to Paul Goodman and Laura Perls, “where the surprise is possible, again.” It’s true, I feel a sense of abundant energy as I sit at this apex of a life well lived with love, loss, mothering, travel and continuous learning to feel the joy and wonder of letting go. To age with consciousness, as a witness to what was, what is and with what is yet to come takes courage; the courage to face regrets, sorrow, and reconciliation.

This time of reflection in these longer days of darkness versus light, help me slow down my feet to reflect and contemplate the accomplishments of this year’s achievements and plan for the next year. As a business executive, this is a time of accounting for what goals were met or exceeded and certainly, what was not met, then to alter or change course for the upcoming year. It seems life takes a similar course, if we choose to reflect upon it. 

All of these musings are grounded in the idea of change is the very nature of, Nature. Our earth, our bodies, our civilizations are all moving through a temporal space of energetic birth and death within each moment, within each atom. While all of these thoughts may be very esoteric, it is the very idea of change that is most present in our global humanity at this time, this wave of aging. 

We have a “Silver Tsunami” as the 2001 Pew Report describes my “baby boomer” generation, literally and metaphorically “falling” each and every day into new states of colorfully embracing or resisting this transformative period, post-menopausal for me and empty nesting. We ask ourselves as we “retire” or create “Encore” careers what is our purpose and how will I live out this approaching winter of life. 

I plan to enjoy this autumn, this season of reflection, color and beauty with as much aliveness and joy as I did as a child. It seems easier with my grandchildren, as I am not responsible for their day-to-day discipline of learning about the world, but, required as a good grandmother to create joy and wonder. My only real job as a grandmother is to love them. Our society allows us grandparents to regress back to those joyful childhood years, of anticipating the little pleasures and wonders of the world, through the first look at these simple visceral pleasures through the eyes of our grandchildren.

As a Mother of boys, I seemed to do more camping, hiking, and outdoor exploration than my friends with girls. As a Developmental Specialist, I knew if I had a girl, I would want her to have all of these seemingly “boy experiences” too. My sons taught me how to be bold, brave, and to also let go of an expectation or outcome and try new things. I learned to appreciate the societal history of mankind, through seeing my boys, take a path unknown on a trail head or spend hours assembling Legos to create some new city or building.

The nature of mankind and human evolution was the wandering of man outside the communal campfire to hunt for fresh meat and new frontiers. In these unknown places, discovery of the “other” was found, conquered, killed or integrated into the tribe. Now our tribe is global with a sense of us all, more the same, than different. As this tribe of aging humanity, we are searching and seeking for new ways to live. Every man and woman, in every culture, is seeking a new way to have purpose, wonder, meaning and joy in these transforming days of our bodies, minds, and spirits. 

I am excited about my “baby boomer” generation both conscious and grasping at new ways of aging; funding science to cure the ailments once accepted of the aging and no longer acceptable for anyone, like Alzheimer’s. Our intent to remember, is another frontier of discovery of ourselves and the humble human fumbling to create in this fertile void. Our desire to live is creating new ways of experiencing the upcoming winter season of our lives. Innovation and technology are escalating the development of self-driving cars, new forms of housing with automated regulations and the delivery of all forms of services. 

Creating community is once again a novelty of intergenerational co-housing, co-ops of shared household duties and the recognition of elders as “wizen” with a respect for lessons learned and the ability to map certain hazards and traps of a life. 

Last night I watched the PBS American Master’s program on the life of Rachel Carson. What I watched was a look back at a time in our modern history of man’s attempt to harness science to eradicate the suffering of millions of people and how the very science almost eradicated all life on the planet. The “shadow” of being a baby boomer, is we are the atomic weapons generation, raised on the images of bombs dropped, bomb shelters, bomb drills and a post-apocalyptic mind of zombies and death.

This shadow sits with us, as a nagging reminder of what the mind can create to destroy and how this destruction takes all life with it. In our primitive mind of territories, boundaries, domination, and conquering; Rachel Carson’s perspective gives rise to the question of how to live, in, harmony with nature, instead of conquering nature into submission. 

I remember the DDT sprayings. The trucks at night, driving slowly down our neighborhood streets, when we were tucked into bed as suburban middle-class kids. After bed-time stories and kisses, I would peek out the window to see the mist of DDT fog billow from the trucks on the street, up our lawn, and slowly creep up to the walls of our house. This fog of chemicals scared me back into bed, under the covers, to fall asleep in fear of the unknown. 

Today, with genetic tests and medical technology my generation sits through annual physicals, visits to medical specialists holding our breath like on one of those DDT fog nights waiting and hoping those very chemicals, intended to help us ward off pests; haven’t seeped into the very code of our DNA to alter our genes to trigger a genetic mutation of cells to create cancer. 

Rachel Carson’s, Silent Spring, cautions us to consider our quest for conquering suffering may create more suffering for other beings and ultimately all sentient beings. With her own cancer and untimely death at the age of 57, Carson’s life’s work highlights how our humanities contributions can leave a legacy for the next generation to consider how to live or die. 

As I write these words in the middle of the night, the long soon to be longest night of the year; I am both sober and centered, in the fact I have only a few answers to my own life’s questions. I want to simply enjoy these remaining days of my life, the winter of my life, in the warmth of my grandchildren’s wonder of the natural world. I am hopeful with their incredible Parent’s embrace of all things new in nutrition, health and wellness to nurture them into adulthood. The beautiful cycle of life is spiraling all around us, at all times, without regard to whether we see it or acknowledge it. Life will transform and change. Our call to action, in this season, is do we have the courage to “Surf” this Silver Tsunami. 

I have my wetsuit on, and my surfboard waxed. I’m in the water catching the wave. I know many of my contemporaries are sitting on the shore too afraid to get in the water. No matter what, the surf is up and the wave upon wave of this aging population will wash up on the shore of humanity. We have so many ways our global tribe can embrace this evolution as a time of great reflection on what once was and what is yet to come. 

As I mix many metaphors, with leaves falling and waves crashing, I continue to be very hopeful that my little individual effort in life, along with the billions of others in my generation, can find a way to raise the consciousness of our global humanity to celebrate the seasons and create a chorus of hope for us all. I am hopeful, as I know the winter will turn into spring. I am inspired by the Jerzy Kosinski, quote, in his book, Being There, “Life is a state of mind.”

Fara Gold McLaughlin

fara@goldmarkseniors.com

www.goldmarkseniors.com

 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerzy_Kosi%C5%84ski

https://muse.jhu.edu/article/218624/pdf

https://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/english/autumn-years

https://gestaltconference2019.com/theme-of-the-conference/

https://www.gisc.org/gestaltreview/documents/spiritualityandgestalt-agestalt-transpersonalperspective.pdf