A colleague recently told me she was thinking about going back to school. “But is that crazy?” she asked. “I’m not young, I have teen-aged kids, parents who are starting to have medical problems, and a full psychotherapy practice. I feel like it would be rejuvenating. But am I kidding myself? Would it really bring me some joy, or am I just adding another burden to my life?” She is in her early fifties.
A friend in her mid-sixties, says that she’d like to take up an art career she left behind thirty years ago, when she realized a life in the arts was too risky. She needed to make money, she was good with numbers, and she embarked on a career in accounting. “I had to support my family,” she said, “but now everyone is self-supporting, and I just have to make sure I have enough money to take care of myself in my old age.
And yet another friend, retired and in his seventies, started writing a novel. “My kids are condescending about it,” he said. “I feel like a puppy whose head is being patted.”
As I start writing this Substack, I feel a little bit like all of them. Am I too old to start something new? I’ve published three books and numerous professional articles, I’ve written for Quartz and NBC THINK, and I’ve been writing a blog for Psychology Today for 10 years, but I feel totally inadequate for this new undertaking. I read lots of newsletters from Substack, but the truth is that I still don’t even know what a Substack is!
I’m a psychotherapist with a full private practice and 40 years of experience. I teach and supervise other therapists. I’m also a mom and a grandma. But I worry: will my clients and children and students laugh at me for taking on something that feels way outside my wheelhouse? Will I write anything that anyone in the Substack world might find at all interesting?
Maybe I should follow the path of aging laid out for generations by psychoanalysts like Erik Erikson that in our sixties and seventies we’re supposed to be mentors, sharing our knowledge with the next generation. But does the next generation want our knowledge? Do they maybe know more than we do? Certainly, they know more about the electronic world than most of us. But maybe there’s still something we can hand down to them, if they’ll accept it.
But what if we want to keep learning, keep growing? Is that allowed?
I’m not sure if it’s allowed or not, although I’m not sure who makes or enforces that rule, either. But that’s where I’m going. This blog is my attempt to respond to the desire to keep growing as we age. It will be about sadness and loss, which is also part of this time of life. I’m reeling from the loss of my younger brother, who was also one of my closest friends this year; and from the loss of a dear friend who, even at the age of ninety-three, was a mentor and role model. Like all the world, I’m also struggling with the pain and fear and loss engendered by the pandemic, the climate crisis, and political crises that are leading to war, deprivation, and other horrors all around the globe.
But it will also be about the surprising growth that is occurring in my life as I enter my 70’s. New projects, new ideas, and new friendships, as well as the deepening of existing relationships and the broadening of my personal and professional worlds. And the wonderful news is that I’m not alone. I will write about my friend Julie, who started several exciting projects in her mid-seventies, including an amazing podcast which has brought her into contact with artists, activists, farmers, and physicians, among others, and has educated her as well as her listeners. I’ll also write about what I have learned from friends who have grown in a variety of directions, some predictable, others surprising.
What I have learned, what I am learning, is what I will share on this new project of mine. If you’re reading it, then I managed to get it posted. My newest adventure has begun. I hope you will find something in it that is useful or thought-provoking and something that helps move you forward in your own adventures – whether you’re in your forties or your eighties. Please let me know what you think, since your feedback will help me know what might be useful and what I need to work on. It’s never too late to keep growing.