Old Timer

We watched a documentary last night where a filmmaker sought out very, very old people to try to find out how they made it into their 90s and beyond.  Many of the reasons were well-publicized - good diet, no drug use and moderate alcohol intake for the non-drunks among us, exercise, enough sleep, and the like.  There were a few outliers represented as well - smokers and drinkers who made it past the century mark but most of the folks lived sensible, reasonable lives.

It made me reflect on some of the benefits of The Program.  Certainly we stop drinking and drugging and many of us give up smoking; we try to eat well or at least remember to eat at all, not always a given when we were ingesting thousands of calories of processed glucose as part of our daily alcohol intake; we try to give our bodies some exercise above and beyond popping  open cans of beer or walking to the car to drive to the Kwiky Mart to buy more beer; and we get enough sleep at night and some of us get to take naps, for chrissake, as opposed to having to drink a case of wine coolers just to fall asleep.  This is not subtle stuff.  It's not surprising that people who do these things live longer, healthier lives.

Old folks usually have an active social life - they aren't sitting by themselves in front of the idiot box, drinking alone.  I never take for granted the friendships I make in my recovery - the young people I can parent and the old timers who help guide my behavior and everyone in between.  People with a lot of friends are happier and happy people live longer.  And we see a lot of tangible benefits to having a faith in some kind of a Higher Power, even if it's only the group.  It was hard trying to navigate a world that I thought was hostile and rudderless.  It was stressful.  It didn't make any sense.  And this giving back to repay a program that helped save our lives is very satisfying - it gives meaning and purpose to life.

However, the reason I heard over and over that really resonated with me was around the concept of grasping.  As my spiritual life has expanded I've learned how deeply unsatisfying it can be to try to get things and then hold on to them; this makes the most sense to me when we're talking about things I can see: cars, houses, jobs, relationships, STUFF!  But the old people talked about being happy with where they were in their lives.  They didn't mourn their lost youth or concentrate on the death  that was certainly going to come.  They weren't struggling to hold on to their life.

I spend too much time doing that.  I'm aware of some of the limitations I have today that I didn't have 10 or 20 years ago.  Too often I think: "I've got X number of good years left."  That implies that I have bad stuff to look forward to, that I've really got to be productive before the good goes away and the bad comes rushing in.  That's terrible.  That's the kind of thinking that make me focus on the negative.

Why would I want to go back to my youth?  I was miserable, I was terrified most of the time.  Why would I want to regain that?  If I'm not happy with what I got now I'm never going to be happy.  If I think I can avoid some of the bad things that are surely going to come, if I focus in on them, then I'm one hosed dude.