When my doctor identifies a new problem with my body, I joke with her that the cause is too many birthdays. To humor me, she smiles but prefers her medical diagnosis.
This is a strange time of life when we’ve lived far beyond nature’s intentions. Since 1770 when James Watt invented the steam engine that kicked off the Industrial Revolution, lifespans have doubled. Remarkable improvements in public health and medical research brought us to this point where a hefty chunk of our national medical expenditures goes to those nearing the end of life. On average, Americans my age consume every year about 10 times what we did before age 55.
My latest body breakdown happened three weeks ago. The doctor’s diagnosis, optic neuropathy. Mine, too many birthdays. I’ve lost vision in a section in the middle of my right eye. The other eye is fine, and I hope my brain adjusts (“unlikely”). For now, I feel slightly unstable when I walk, and can’t focus clearly when doing close work like reading or decorating ceramic pots. It’s also affected my driving, particularly at night, though the doctor says driving is still ok.
But I’m certainly not complaining. Little problems that come from living too long, have a giant upside, our longer life. I’ve lived longer, happier, and healthier than my parents could have imagined. This comes compliments of the Industrial Revolution, which along with a vast list of wonderful benefits brought us — drumroll — global climate change, planet-wide species destruction, vast inequities and inequalities, and the Internet for propagating disinformation and anti-Democratic sociopaths.
But who’s complaining?! Certainly not me here in Marin, largely shielded from the miseries of the world. Overall, I am one very happy camper. A new friend said that her mother taught her that she wasn’t fully dressed until she put on her smile. If that’s true, I’m dressed in top hat and tails, smiling and laughing at so much throughout each day. I’m charmed by the ways we each respond so differently to situations. Our human actions and idiosyncrasies are (mostly) delightful.
This last week, as we were walking to an outside bench to read together, one of my second graders said, “Mr. Barry, you inspire me.” That’s about as nice a thing as I’ve ever heard. I replied, “Esmeralda, you inspire me. We inspire each other. Isn’t that wonderful?” I asked her where she learned that word, “From television.” Then if she knew what it means, “Makes you feel good.” After 10 years of volunteering with primary schoolers, moments like this are icing on a very fine cake.
Is such happiness countercultural? It seems that politicians, corporations, and the media want an anxious public, susceptible to their cries for attention. But we don’t have to yield to their political and profit-motivated siren calls. We can do ourselves a favor, counting our blessings, enjoying the fun, the beauty, the satisfaction of these bonus years from the TMB pandemic.
So, I’d like to add one item to the Prescription for a Long and Satisfying Life that I heard years ago from the Buck Institute for Research on Aging in Marin.
- Look on the bright side, be happy.
I’d very much like to hear how you enjoy this precious gift of life and resist our culture’s anxious cries.
Please pass me your thoughts and comments.
Thank you for reading.
Barry
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