In, But Not, Of

There is a way, in the latter part of life, we humans are utterly transformed, and become more and less than we have ever been. I’m aware that what I’m about to describe doesn’t happen for everyone. This is only a human potential. That is, only some humans achieve this kind of experience.

Some folks combine the quintessential elder experience, that is, of not being who they used to be, with a sense that they are becoming more. They are somewhere in between, they are not who they were, and they are not yet who they will be. In my way of saying it, they are between the worlds. They go beyond themselves, but not entirely. They are a lot more than they used to be, but not entirely. For some reason, known only to The Great Mystery, they are suspended — not here and not there. They embody a very paradoxical status, not dead to who they were, and not yet fully alive to who they are becoming.

This phenomenon, of being in between, isn’t a new one. Many people have experienced a version of it at other times in life. I went through a period of not knowing myself when my first marriage ended. Things like accidents, moves, illnesses, joblessness, relationship changes, retirement, and near-death experiences trigger these occurrences. These events are often seen as tragic, and at least, disturbing. They all seem to be associated with changes of status.

At the later part of life, a variation of this experience is often the source of a lot of painful uncertainty. Old people have the experience of losing the status they once enjoyed. They are changing in a way that is semi-expected — the calendar doesn’t lie — but the how and when one goes beyond oneself, is almost always a surprise. Changing status, mainly enduring the loss of status, is a predictable challenge. Being constantly in this state is what is typical and unusual about the elder stage of life.

 A lot of folks bemoan this aspect of aging. Many try to avoid it, some lean into it. Later on in elderhood, a very few, that have adjusted to being without status, enter the realm of being in between. These folks are in the world, they have a life, are located within the parameters of normalcy, and as a result of their lost status, are living outside the realm of normalcy. They have a unique viewpoint, by virtue of being subject to a shifting perspective. They are in the world, but not of it.

Through the many years I have been exploring elderhood, I haven’t been able to pinpoint what I thought was unusual, or unique about this phase of human life. Many old people have suffered because there was nothing about this phase of life that was considered uplifting, inspiring, or otherwise good. One just got ill, lived a while with limitations, and died. There isn’t anything to look forward to.

Until now.

Instead, I think this aspect of human potential, which is entirely elder, has a lot to offer individuals, and human community. Elder wisdom doesn’t just come from experience, it also comes from perspective. Being between the worlds, not dead to this one, and not yet fully alive to the next one. There exists a view that isn’t defined by cultural consensus, and is instead influenced by a more natural and cosmic view. For a while some old people dwell there, and bring back to us, a clearer picture of our place in the great scheme of things.

Generally, it is people in their eighties, nineties and occasionally their seventies who provide the rest of us with a   different and broader take on human existence. They are here in the world, waiting for death to send them to some other orbit, feeling the proximity of what comes next, and altered by it, but still here. They provide us, if we pay attention to them, with a glimpse of the future, with a new, perhaps a fuller picture of human possibility. This is a natural phenomenon, a kind of rare human beauty, that is available now.

Tweeners, as I now think of them, have a rarefied sensitivity. They know what it means to be somebody, and then to become nobody — to have a view of the world, only to see it dissolve into something else. They know both the ardor of loss and the unexpected delight of gain. They have been hammered into shape by the exquisite hardships of a good life and then set lose in a more enchanted world. They provide us with precious insight, especially into what it really means to be human.

The challenges of being old in this world are great. It is no wonder there is so much fear and misperception. This social reality isn’t helped by the lack of supports, external, and especially internal, that make ageing look so bad. Fortunately, Life hasn’t waited around for us to grow up, and make the human condition more congruent with who we are. In the later phases of life, a natural force alters us, allowing more of our humanity to show through the conditioning that once defined us. And revealing the natural beauty of our kind.

Being in between, waiting to die, while being infused with a new way of being, makes the possibilities more evident, and offers all of us, the incentive to actualize ourselves while we still can. Being suspended is hard, it isn’t bad or defective, and it is a lonely experience, but it sheds light in all the important places. Being between the worlds is a gift that can grow on us, and that reveals what is truest about who we are. Being in between is a miraculous hardship composed of compassion and difficult beauty. It is Life’s way of transforming us naturally.