service – Surprised By Joy

“A lifetime is so precious, and so brief, and can be used so beautifully.” – Pema Chödrön

A while back, Miss O asked me if teenagers wanted to be little kids. When I said I didn’t believe so, she explained the question – if she, at age seven, wants to be a teenager, and her aunt in her 50’s wants to be younger, then what age do teenagers want to be?

I recently learned from Jennifer Senior, a staff writer at The Atlantic, that it is fairly common, especially in people over 40-years-old, to think of themselves as an age different than their years. This concept has the name “subjective age.” In her piece, The Puzzling Gap Between How Old You Are and How Old You Think You Are, she explains that, “Adults over 40 perceive themselves to be, on average, about 20 percent younger than their actual age.” People under 25 tend to think of themselves as older.

The article is delightfully filled with data, anecdotes, and links to research, as one would expect from The Atlantic and Jennifer Senior. A few things stood out to me:

David C. Rubin, a psychology and neuroscience professor at Duke, has found “the adults have an outsize number of memories from the ages of about 15 to 25. They call this phenomenon ‘the reminiscence bump.’ (This is generally used to explain why we’re so responsive to the music of our adolescence)”

Also, the gap of perceived age is greater in Western cultures than in Asia or Africa, or places where elders are more respected.

And one of Jennifer Senior’s conclusions about this mental trick really stuck with me, “If you mentally view yourself as younger—if you believe you have a few pivots left—you still see yourself as useful; if you believe that aging itself is valuable, an added good, then you also see yourself as useful.”

The three ways of seeing our subjective age: wanting to be older like Miss O does, seeing ourselves as younger than our actual years, or liking the age we’re at because we’re seen as respected and valuable, share the common ground of wanting to have agency and feel generative. It reminds me of my dad whose motto of service to others was “I just want to be useful.”

May we all feel useful, at whatever age we believe ourselves to be.

For a related post, about the perspective gained when I met someone that reminded me of who I was 15 years ago, check out my Heart of the Matter post: Better Off Without

(featured photo from Pexels)

“One filled with joy preaches without preaching.” – Mother Teresa

When I would golf with my dad and a stranger was added to our group, I always found it interesting to see how people would react when they found out that he was a pastor, or retired pastor. Of course, not everyone asked but more often than not it would come up. I remember being out golfing with my dad once and my dad’s ball ricocheted off a tree and very luckily landed really near the green. The guy golfing with us said something like, “Wow, the Big Guy really is looking out for you.”

My dad just laughed. I think it’s fair to say that he didn’t think God spent any time worrying about his golf game. And he was so good humored that sometimes it was hard to figure out how he approached life because he made it look so easy and delightful.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about all the in-depth conversations we had, especially in those years right before he died suddenly in a bike accident at age 79. What I’ve concluded is that there were three things that came together so that he appeared to glide through his golf game … and life.

First was his attitude. Wherever my dad was, he looked around for what he could do to help. So when golfing, wherever the ball landed he’d think it was great because that’s where he could be useful. And it wasn’t just his ball – when I would hit in the woods, as I frequently did, he’d be the first person tromping in there to help me find mine, laughing and good-naturedly joking all the way.

Second was his faith. My dad was sure he could hit from anywhere because his faith had taught him his work was in partnership with God. If he had to hit out from a bed of pine needles stuck between three trees, he would try. He didn’t expect that God would make it easy but he did think that God would make it meaningful.

Third, was his personality. He was such an enthusiastic, caring person that you just wanted to be around him. He never entered a room with an authentic compliment for those he greeted. And his eyes were almost permanently crinkled from the delightful twinkle in his eyes. He’d make you believe that you could also do anything, especially with him by your side. And he believed he could do anything because he had God by his side.

He remarked to me several times that people had said to him that he’d led a blessed life. He knew his life had plenty of trouble. Thinking back to my early years when we lived as a family for almost 6 years in the Philippines after Ferdinand Marcos had declared Martial Law, I’d concur that my dad faced plenty of obstacles. But in the end, he agreed he’d lived a blessed life – not free of ups and downs but full of meaning and love.

That’s the formula that I’ve come up with from my dad – love where you are at, believe you are not alone and care for others along the way. I don’t know if the guy we golfed with gleaned any of that but I know even now, seven years after his death, my dad continues to inspire me to do the same.

Tag: service

Useful at Any Age

The Formula