How is your flexibility? I am not speaking of physical flexibility (although I do envy my granddaughters’ abilities to touch their toes to their foreheads), but of attitude flexibility, the ability to listen to new ideas and to try new experiences. Let me suggest that attitudinal flexibility is a good predictor of how successful, fulfilling, and happy retirement will be.
I have observed two different stances in retirees – some are open and curious, but others are ruled by suspicions. The first group includes those who consider themselves life-long learners and who use retirement to hone skills and interests. Speak to members of this group, and you will hear about travel plans, signing up for adult education, trying new part time jobs, delighting in new technology, learning a new language. The second group is more likely to shelter in their homes, watching familiar TV shows, perhaps suspicious of technology (and, therefore, missing this blog); in short, they reject or seem fearful of new ideas and experiences.
I know two sisters who represent each group. The first, Helen, nearing 90, reads voraciously, sends emails and surfs the net, paints, gardens, and is studying Italian for a planned trip to Europe. Her sister Sarah refuses to use a microwave oven. She also rejected dishwashers at first, preferring, rather primly, to continue washing them by hand. She has barred computers from her home, and spends her days watching reruns on television.
Helen seems to be motivated by curiosity, but Sarah is susceptible to anxiety, fear, or mistrust of the unknown. This inflexibility means that Sarah is boxed in, and, because of her choices, she is unable to grow.
This is not to say that we should not filter new ideas through our own beliefs and values; of course, we should. There are many new attitudes in our culture with which I disagree and that I will not embrace. But I am determined to follow Helen’s path, and give new experiences a fair look – and reject those with which I disagree, and not because I fear them or because I am automatically suspicious of something different.
I might slip into self-congratulations as I assess my own flexibility, but I recently recognized an area in which I have been rigid. That is my tendency to be judgmental, surely as self-crippling as the fear of all things new. Whom am I judging?
Last summer, when I joined a group for a hike, I met two interesting women. One, Cathy, had a charming personality, an open and accepting demeanor, and a huge tattoo on her arm. Her friend Julia was close to my age, had wild strawberry-colored hair, was equally charming and open, and also had a huge tattoo.
My first reaction, upon meeting them, was to distance myself from them. I don’t like tattoos, think they are ugly and disfiguring, and apparently believe that anyone who subjects herself and her skin to this process has either a mental or a moral deficiency.
In spite of my own preference, I wound up in a car driven by Cathy, with Julia occupying the passenger seat. I was in the back, with two other unadorned passengers. But, as we rode along, I found myself being lured into admiration of both of the tattooed ladies. I forgot about their skin-etchings and focused on learning about who they are. By the end of the time together, I felt that I had been fortunate to have met them, and I hoped to see them both again.
This experience has forced me to consider a question: What business is it of mine to pass judgment on another person who chooses to infuse colored, permanent ink into her (or his) skin? Obviously, I do not have to become a tattoo parlor customer; but neither do I need to judge those who are customers.
Most important, I recognize that my mental flexibility needs a continuing, daily workout program.
5/1/2014