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Thursday, February 24, 2011

Gero-punk Lexicon, installment four


Welcome to a work-in-progress, the “Gero-punk Lexicon.” In case you are new to the Lexicon, check out the third installment for some explanatory commentary.

Contemplative Gerontology

As we travel through the life course, as we accompany and witness others as they travel through the life course:

We place our attention and awareness upon our odd, unexpected, flummoxing, and contradictory aging experiences; we accept our experiences and those of others as sacred and real, if yet (or perhaps always) unexplainable.

We develop our capacity for aging consciousness and allow our selves to exercise this consciousness through ongoing curiosity about and pondering of our own and others’ aging experiences.

We try on different ways of moving through the world so as to develop our empathy for and imagination about aging experiences we’ve yet to (or may never) experience.

We ask questions about the meanings of our aging experiences without engaging in analysis, nor with attachment to finding answers. We rejoice in the spilling-forth of yet more questions.

(Key words that may be related: Temporality; Impermanence; Mindfulness; Intention; Space and Time; Stillness; Slowness; Wonderment.)

Example One:

What happens when I decide to go slow through the world, to take a more leisurely pace through space and time? What happens when I decide to go more quickly, to speed things up? How does my mind experience the world differently depending on the speed my body is moving? What does slowness allow me to see, to feel, to understand? And what has speed to offer to me? And what is the experience of being able to have agency regarding the speed I travel in my body through space and time? And what might it be like for me someday when I must adjust my sense of agency so as to adapt to my older body which perhaps will have a narrower range of speed-options? What might I still learn from times in my life I’ve already experienced when, because of illness or injury, I was forced to move slowly, sometimes not at all? What might it be like to be told (perhaps with impatience, frustration) by someone who has different options for speed than I have that I must speed up (or slow down?)? Can we negotiate our shared velocity, find a comfortable meeting in the middle? Why are these questions important to ponder?

Example Two:

We tried a contemplative exercise on age identity in my Embodiment in Later Life seminar a few weeks ago.

I asked students to stand in front of their desks in a circle. Then to stand still, eyes closed, feet firmly planted on the earth but body as relaxed as possible. Then, in an unforced way, to begin breathing, sending their breaths down into their bellies. And, after awhile, I invited them to begin silently counting their breaths…1, 2, 3…

And, after twenty or so breaths, I posed the question: “What age are you right now at this moment, standing still, breathing deeply”? 

After a few minutes of silent reflection upon this question, we opened our eyes, sat down, and engaged in a roundtable discussion about our experiences. 

Some of the questions we explored:

Where does age reside?

In the absence of and in addition to the concepts of chronological age, in what ways do we categorize ourselves and others as an aging person?

In the absence of social feedback – signals from others – how do we know what age we are, that we are aging?

In the absence of embodied feedback – signals from our bodies that we’ve come to associate with aging and age – how do we know what are we are, that we are aging?

What can we describe about the phenomenon of aging, of growing older, from an experiential standpoint? What is our capacity for using words to describe our experiences? When we reach the edge of our capacity to put experience into words, what are other modes for expressing our experiences?

Some of the insights we shared:

The profound lack of solidity of the inter-related phenomena of age and aging and being old. They are concepts, they are experiences, they are social structures, and yet, in the stillness of breathing, eyes closed, they are without form and substance.

The paradox of the simultaneous experience of disembodied, timeless consciousness, on the one hand, and the embodied mind, the materiality of consciousness, on the other hand.

The extent to which our experiences traveling through the life course are shaped by social constructions: about the nature and passage of time; the meaning of chronology; phases and stages of the life course; what we expect to do and when (and what society expects us to do, and when).

And the stories we tell about our embodied selves.

What stories do you tell about your embodied self? When you stand still, feet firmly planted on the ground, body relaxed, eyes closed and you breathe down into your belly, what age are you?

1 comment:

Joe Bertagnolli said...

An exquisite set of Gero-Punk Lexicon installments! Thank you for some delicious reading!

It is interesting... I come through your exercise struggling to remember how old I am! Am I 44? 45? I had to think of my birth-year and quickly do the math! Oh, that's right-- I'll be 46 this year in August. It seems my aging journey is indeed primarily experiential rather than mathematical. I suppose the numbers may serve in helping me remember to be mindful, yet I rankle versus the implication that our society does expect me to "act my age!" ;)

P.S. Gero-punk is rockin' cool!