Rowing north with a full crew
Painting by Pearl Richard.
Welcome to another offering from Seasoned Voices, a shared blogging adventure that brings individual perspectives to common themes. Five women writers, each coming to writing along differing paths. Five women eager to speak the truth about growing older. We hope our cross-pollinated blogging also inspires conversation and reflection for you.
Our theme this season is what women talk about. What questions do they ask each other when trust and support are in the room? Over the last few months, the women of Seasoned Voices have met for video calls to reflect and laugh about the topics we discuss when we are together. While there were numerous topics on the list, we narrowed it down to someday, friendships, and being in the company of women. Here are some thoughts on the questions I pondered.
Someday is quietly unfolding
If you knew that someday had arrived, what would you begin doing differently this year?
Twenty-eight years ago, at the age of forty-nine, I made a list of twenty simple things I like to do, a list that Barbara Sher, in her book Wishcraft, assured me would reveal a great deal about my true nature. This month, I am compiling a list of twenty things I like to do once again.
The two lists, spanning all those years, are almost identical. One difference is that a couple of work-related items no longer make the list. Another is that spending time with the people in my life who matter has become a priority. Perhaps that is one of the things I understand more clearly at this stage of life: who I spend my time with is as important as how I spend my days.
What would I do differently this year if I knew that someday had arrived? Nothing - except to live this list with deeper intensity and intentionality.
Rowing north with a full crew
Have your friendships changed as you have aged?
For years I have proudly proclaimed that my partner is my best friend. To use the raw imagery of Ann Voskamp, “He knows the edges of my story that bruise when touched, the places that are fractured and fraught, the spaces within me that ache tender with emptiness. He knows what shames me. He has seen all of me. And I don’t just mean the sagging and the flabby and the cellulite — I mean my ugliness that’s spewed words that can’t be stuffed back into any bottle, and the sins that have marred and scarred long stretches of my soul.”
What will I be left with if he leaves me first? Recently I've realized he cannot be my entire world. Science reminds me that human connections in my later years are a critical determinant of health and longevity.
I have written before about how older women deliberately shrink their social networks. We cultivate a smaller, high-quality circle of friends. Four close friends, research tells us, is the ideal number; more friends offer no substantial benefits to our well-being. But being open to new friendships is always worthwhile.
As I row north, I need a full crew. My husband is my faithful companion, and I would like to grow my circle of friends so we can offer each other support and enjoy shared interests.
In the company of older women
What happens in the company of women?
Women share so many shared reference points. We understand, without explanation, the complexities of being daughters, mothers, partners, caregivers, and friends. We know the realities of growing older.
But it is more than shared experience. Charlotte Kasl wrote, “We recognize ourselves in one another's vulnerability. Not necessarily because we've had the same experiences, but because we recognize the feeling underneath them.”
The women in my life remind me there are many ways to grow older. They challenge me, make me laugh, listen generously, and often say exactly what I need to hear. I safely spill my heart to some, and with others, I delve deep into spiritual discussions. I have gravitated back to childhood friends to find our bonds are as strong as they once were. And I have started a conversation with a stranger, felt an instant connection, and made plans to get together for coffee. The common thread amongst these friendships is that I can be myself.
As I think about someday quietly unfolding, I realize someday will be like any other well-lived day. It will be made up of the things I love to do, time spent with the people who matter, and conversations that enrich my life.
Meet the other ‘seasoned voices’ joining me on this writing journey. Together we draw inspiration from retirement’s blank canvas, filling it with broad strokes of wonder, truths told a little raw, and the vibrancy of possibilities cracked wide open. Click below on their individual photos to read their perspectives on this theme.
