A lovely soul of 80 years asked me last week if felt like it was ever too late to start a relationship?
My answer was surprising perhaps.
An unequivocal, “Yes!”
And perhaps, less surprising, was my reasoning, “Once we’re dead.”
At that point I imagine we go back to being whatever we are when we’re not separate selves…
Probably relationships (and marathons) are not a thing when we’re not in material bodies and are more clear about being One. So, once we’re disembodied, now it’s too late.
But before that?
Well, now my answer is what you’d expect me to say, except that my reasoning for that has been delightfully surprising my friends for years. It goes a little something like this…
There’s always time…
Even to the last breath, we can fall more deeply in love with ourselves and the people around us. Maybe completing the marathon will be a little more challenging, but you can in that instant at least open to the possibility.
So far pretty normal.
The secrect sauce is in the mindset, the belief, the feeling, the knowing that you still can.
How to do that?
Simple. Ditch the cultural mindset that aging equals degradation.
Still not delightful you say?
Ahhh… Let me tell you a story.
At the oh, so tender age of 43, I was running along a tree lined park high up in urban hills of Hong Kong, and a thought occurred to me, “I wonder if I could run a second marathon and beat my time? I wonder if I could cut 20 minutes off my time and run it in less than 5h30 minutes?!” So far so good.
What happened next literally stopped me in my tracks. The thought that innocently followed was, “Oh, no. I’m too old to run a marathon. All that training, I’ll be way too old in a year to run that far.”
Instantly, followed by, “What the…?!!!”
I still remember stopping mid-stride, and thinking, “How rediculous! Where the hell did that idea even come from?!”
I mean here I am running! I’m doing the thing that some part of me has decided I won’t be able to do a year from now because I’ll be to old… against all evidence to the contrary. I’m literally doing it! And had been for years! “What the hell is this?”
I was shocked.
I’m sure the couple walking towards me, who started whispering to each other nervously, edging around, and delicately giving as much birth as possible, thought I was totally bonkers. I’m sure I looked crazy, standing there one leg dangling, with this horrified, sweaty red face… LOL. Thinking about it, I probably yelled out an explicative or two. I was clearly acting unstable. Heh. Too bad this experience was a little less illuminating for them. “Crazy foreigners,” was all they got out of it. I digress.
“Old age, my foot!,” I grimised.
The thought had been so real, so believable and so obviously not true that the dissonance was striking.
Where was this belief coming from? Why did I think that I was getting to old to run?
Foot still dangling mid-air, this was all happening in a matter of seconds, I realized that cultural conditioning around aging was kicking in. The ideas about getting old that I’d mindlessly absorbed my entire life were now starting to ripen with age.
“Shit.” I put my foot down.
This was not on!
“If at 43 I’m already deciding that at 44 I’m not going to be able to run, this needs to be nipped in the bud!”
I sifted through my thoughts about getting old and realized that what the whole idea rested on for me was death at 90. This meant that everything could be tracked back from there… middle age at 45! and everything downhill after that.
Or, apparently for me, at 44. As usual, I was getting an early start. Great.
I started running again to contemplate further. This was a perfect thought stream to run with.
“Ok, what if I just move the goal post, the end date? If all of my pre-concieved ideas are about kicking the bucket at 90, why not decide to croak at 100 instead? Or, oh! how about 150?!!“
150! That would be fun! That would stretch the whole thing out, move all of the goal posts and challange all of those pesky notions of middle age and eventual decrepitude. I started doing the math… middle age at 75. 75! I had 33 more years! Sweet! I could deinitely run another marathon! Yay!
I started running a bit faster, a spring back in my step. This was a great idea!
I could already tell that challenging these cultural ideas was going to change what I believed I was capable of…
I could look at new projects with the belief that I had time.
I could start anything I wanted.
I was still capable of learning, growing, getting more fit, doing more… of everything!
I was amazed at how much lighter I felt. I think I actually bounded in the air like Tigger for a few strides. This was exciting.
And then an even more extraordinary thought occurred. One that stopped me in my tracks, again.
“If living to 150 is so effective at challenging my unconscious, internalized beliefs about aging, what if I go for an even bigger goal… one that I’d be even more excited to achieve, one that feels totally inspiring?! What if I decide to live as long at the Daoist masters say we can live and go for 250?!!
This is crazy enought to work! I love this!!”
Now I really started running. Numbers wizzing through my head… planted at 250 = middle age at… 125!
“Holy cow. 125!!!
That’s nuts!
At 43, I’m the equivalant of… a teenager! Ha!
This is great!”
This put an even bigger spring in my step. I decided to do it. I decided that I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. I decided to change my internalized belief from pushing up daisy at 90 to popping my clogs at 250. “Why not?”
This was quite the run. It started out as a run-of-the-mill jog and had taken me from an early decline to a long life span. In fact this one run has altered the course of my life forever. Perhaps for the following 207 years!
Ok, ok, I can hear your mind saying, “That’s a nice story, Elena, and I am much more reasonable than you are and this will not work for me. I will not lie to myself and try to believe that I’m going to live to some ridiculous age. This won’t work. I strive for authenticity and this is just silly. Cute. And, no.”
There is method to my madness…
First, this is not actually about believing that I’m going to live to 250, or 150 or any age I might choose. The point is not whether I actually live to that age at all. The point is how it changes how I live TODAY.
This idea is just like it’s corollary, carpe diem, seize the day: the idea of living today as if it might be your last. No one does that because they actually think they’re going to die tomorrow. They have no idea. They do it because of how it helps them live today.
Carpe diem is another way to achieve an ‘ageless’ mentality, but for me I don’t like the stress that I feel with that. I prefer the relaxed, carrot (vs stick) approach, of having as much time as I could possibly want. An almost unimaginable amount of time… 250 years.
Second, ultimately, living to 250 is about leaning into a very long health span. Of challenging all of those beliefs that I mindlessly absorbed about what getting older means… that I must decline and be unable to do certain things at pre-set ages. Why believe those things handed to me by a culture that isn’t in my body, and is making a whole bunch of assumptions that may or may not have anything at all to do with me? They’ve been wildly wrong about me about so far. Why swallow these mindlessly?
And ladies and gentlemen, the results are astounding…
Over the last 10 years, as those once unconscious beliefs floated to the surface, they’ve all begun to feel dissonant, worthy of being questioned and examined. Most could be scrapped instantly, like, being unable to run a marathon. Some take a bit more time.
When stiffness arrived, and I would catch myself thinking, “Ow. Getting old sucks. Now, I’m going to have to feel this stiffness in my back until I pass. Great.”
…and instead of letting that become my reality, I would notice that and think, “Really? Why am I assuming that? What if I do a bit of gentle movements right now?” Ahhhh. And voila, stiffness reduced. I might have to do those movements quite a bit over the following days, or even months, and the difference is now I know that I can do something about it. I’m no longer a victim of these ludicrous ideas.
The difference is staggering. It has really changed my life.
And, of course, it’s not just fitness. It’s having time and capacity to do everything.
It’s removing age as a limiting factor.
Speed isn’t needed when I have 250 years. I’ve got time.
I’ve got time to improve my health, my fitness, my relationships, my business, my running times, my singing (thank goodness!), and anything else I want to do.
I ran two marathons since this delightful run in the park. I haven’t gone sub 5 hours 30 yet (arghhhh!!), but I have time if I ever want to do it again.
Regardless of how old I actually live.
I might die tomorrow, or a minute from now.
And, so the answer to “Is it too late?” is now and forever more (until I depart), “Go for it.”
Enjoy the Journey,
Elena