I recently heard an older person say that they were no longer one of life’s participants, but a spectator instead. I have given this a great deal of thought, and I cannot say that I totally agree.
If becoming a spectator means that I will never be seen in yoga pants, or with a blue tooth in my ear, or in the wispy bathing suits now de rigueur on the young, that is probably a good thing. Please let me maintain my spectatorship. It is exactly where I belong.
However, if it means I ignore rising sea waters because I will be long gone when they sweep destructively inland, or I do not vote because what does it really matter anyway, or I do not read about current events because I will not be here to reap the consequences, then being a spectator is not good enough.
But this is not as simple as it seems. Staying engaged takes energy, and this is one commodity that is vanishing from our older lives. We recently had an election in our city, and I dutifully went up to vote. I watched young people drive up, park, hop out of their cars, and walk into the polling place returning later to head towards their cars with swift, sure strides. Then I watched an older gentleman (well yes, I am old but he was even older) struggling to get out of his car, assembling his walker, and inching his way in to vote. He was participating, and while the younger voters would go on to a job, grocery shopping, ferrying children etc., this was probably the one main event of his day. It took all he had.
So, perhaps as we age, we need to keep both of these roles in mind, and decide what goes on which list. We may not be able to do everything we used to do, but at the same time we cannot climb off the planet and ignore what our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren are facing. Each of us will have our own lists. And, I have to face it, on someone’s list may be wearing those yoga pants.