Almost no one thinks of themselves as old.
In the U.S., the consensus is that if you’re in your mid-70s, you’re old.
I’m not old, I’m just 77, but I like hanging around old people. They’re very interesting, and have lots of time to meet for coffee. It’s fun looking around the patio at Stork’s bakery and seeing all the tables of old gay men. Don’t they have a good time together, laughing and looking to see if the person who just walked in is someone they know?
Despite my not being old, I have signs of what an old person feels, such as no longer being the sharpest knife in the drawer. My seeing and hearing aren’t what they used to be. I can’t run fast, and sometimes I’m a little wobbly. I’ll need to ask you your name three or four times before I remember it.
But I’m not old. I do though love talking to old people. They’re so interesting, having such great stories to tell. They’re wise beyond their own awareness. They seem more patient, more relaxed, and less needing everything to turn out the way they expected.
You don’t have to be in your mid-to-late 70s to have awareness of yourself. I had coffee this morning with successful young adult author, Bill Konigsberg. He’s 23 years younger than me, but we were, and are, on the same wave length spiritually and emotionally. We were talking about our audience as writers.
“The people who read my books 15 years ago,” he said, “are now in their 30s.”
“The people who are buying my memoir [“A Prince of a Boy”] are probably near my age,” I said. That doesn’t mean they’re old but many of them have been reading my work since they were in their 30s. That was 43 years ago, long before Bill’s readers were born.
Bill and I were talking about life, death, family, dramas, and letting go. I suggested that if we created a big circle of all the people on the patio, we’d find very similar stories and discoveries. “We all have the same DNA,” Bill said. “We all share the same divine spark,” I added.
I had two sweaters with me, not because I thought I’d get cold, but maybe some of the old gay men could be. I’m not old, but it’s easier for me to feel a chill. I had a large hot chocolate and croissant. Young Bill had an iced something and a chocolate muffin, which wasn’t chocolate. He’s young, but nevertheless mature, so it didn’t bother him.
One of the things I’ve learned as a not-old-77-year-old is that there’s a difference between being aged and elderly, and between being elderly and an elder. As a gay elder, I lead by example, celebrating my age, being grateful for all the gifts in my life, and graciously accepting that other people might mistakenly think of me as old.
