“old may be the new fat,” but I don’t care (and other reflections of an over-50 yoga teacher)Posted on Nov 14, 2014 in Blog
I’ve watched and appreciated the burgeoning conversation over yoga and body image, and am a proud member of the Yoga and Body Image Coalition. But, truth be told, issues of body image aren’t that compelling to me on a personal level. I know they’re important, and care about them for that reason. But my interest is more sociological than personal. Ever the ex-political science professor, I want to figure out: Why do so many women today seem so overly wrapped around the axle on body image issues? Why do most of the middle school girls in my son’s school insist on dressing up in super-short, super-tight, super-revealing dresses and high heels they can hardly walk in on special occasions? Why the explosion in eating disorders? Why don’t more women fight back more fiercely against the media barrage of Photoshopped imagery? Why do they seem to stay overly obsessed with it, even as they criticize and reject it?
All these are interesting questions (at least to me). But, I’m not going to try and answer them here. Instead, I’d like to contribute to the one relatively small side-current of the yoga and body image discussion that does feel more personally relevant to me: that is, the one concerning (as the inspiring Charlotte Bell put it recently) “the aging yoga body.”
I’m 52. And I do find myself regularly marveling at “how old” I am. I’m well aware of the fact that my age makes me relatively ancient in the yoga world, not to mention the blogosphere. (Most women my age only deal with social media if they want to track their kids’ activities, not as some independent project of their own.) When I reflect on aging and yoga, however, my thoughts aren’t about not being able to do the kick-ass poses of my youth (easy enough as I never had a particularly kick-ass practice anyway), that I’ve become more “creaky” (I’m actually substantially more flexible now than when I was younger), that I can’t keep up with the hot babes on Instagram (which I can’t imagine wanting to do even if I could), or whatever. None of those issues seem interesting or relevant to me.
Even if it’s true that (as one recent blog put it) “old is the new fat” in our youth-obsessed yoga culture, my gut reaction to such statements feel positively connected to my age, not negatively impacted by it. Which is to say that: I’m old enough that the first rock concert I attended was seeing Patti Smith on her “Horses” at the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago. I remember the 1970s counter-culture and absorbed enough of that post-hippie, second wave feminist, punk rock vibe to be able to say: I don’t care.
And I wonder if today’s young women are suffering because they don’t have the benefit of being able to tap into the same sort of rebellious, defiant, yet also in many ways hopeful alternative culture that I did. I can’t really say . . . I have two sons, and no daughters, and feel out of touch with the deeper currents of that part of our culture. But what I see from afar is a lot of young women making themselves crazy trying to fit into socially prescribed categories that they’d be better off simply rejecting in favor of something more authentic, empowering, and meaningful.
I sense a constriction of the cultural imagination today that didn’t exist when I was younger. And yes, I know that the competitive pressures in education and the job market are much more intense. Still, I don’t see why more women just don’t say “f*ck that noise” when it comes to a lot of these body image-related issues. I see a lot of discussion that appears to go around and around, with endless reassurances that we’re all beautiful in our own way, perfect in our imperfection, etc., etc.
But wouldn’t it be simpler to reject the beauty-and-perfection paradigm altogether? In my mind, the answer is obviously “yes.” But I don’t see a groundswell of young women doing that. Maybe I don’t know where to look. But I do feel that being older helps me to just not care so much about such paradigmatic feminine pressures. Age – in this and many other respects – is really not so bad. In fact, it can actually be a source of relief from the bullshit pressures and preoccupations that otherwise drain your energy, and dirty your line of connection to deeper sources of meaning in your life.
Yoga has played and continues to play a key role in enabling me to remain absorbed in a wholly different set of issues. My practice enables me to refocus my attention, over and over again, on very different dimensions of life, such as: Seeing, really seeing, the magical beauty of the autumn leaves, the frost-tinged grass, the prairie sky, the century-old trees when I take my dog out for a walk on an otherwise ordinary Chicago morning. Being amazed that after so many years of doing Down Dog, I’m still discovering something new in the pose. Developing a greater and greater ability to experience joy, pain, frustration, anxiety, love, sadness, and the full spectrum of human emotion while still staying in touch with a peaceful inner core of awareness. And so much more.
I’m so, so bored by articles that chirpily reassure women that it’s possible to be “50 and Fabulous!” Because what they’re really communicating is that it’s possible to be 50, but look younger, and therefore not feel fully washed up. This is just such misleading bullshit. And while I get why there’s a market for it (and don’t deny that I’d prefer to look younger than I really am, too), it makes me feel sad for older women and even more worried about younger ones who buy into that mentality.
It must be really depressing to grow up feeling that the best you can hope for as you age is to find ways to make it seem like you’re really not growing older at all. What does such a standard give younger women to look forward to? Getting successful face-lifts? Discovering the best new anti-aging diet? What sort of way is this to spend your life? It is a waste; an utter squandering of your energy and life force.
The friends that I’ve have stayed closest to through the decades agree that however we feel about aging, the bottom line is that we’re much happier now than when we were younger. And that happiness doesn’t rest on the fact that we’ve “succeeded” or “failed” in getting married, having kids, getting degrees, landing jobs, buying houses, or any other such standardized markers of adult achievement. Not to say that such things aren’t important – of course, they are. But as you get older, you inevitably find that even if you hit the goals you wanted, they don’t turn out to be what you thought they were.
What matters is developing yourself as a human being. That means growing into a state of being where you’re as ready to die with grace and gratitude for a life well lived as you can possibly be. Aging can be your ally in this process. Whatever your age, gender, or appearance, you have the power to reject the hype that says that your worth depends on what you look like.
That’s easier said than done, I know. But one thing that aging really brings home to you is that life really does go by quite fast. I believe that it’s worth fighting for what you feel is deeply meaningful in your life. And I think that you should rebel against whatever forces pressure your psyche to shut that process down.
Without question, such shut-down pressures will come, and come back again. But true beauty is found in the determination and struggle to live full out. You can’t find it in the mirror. If you look closely, though, you’ll see whether that spark of spirit is still alive in the eyes. And even if it’s not, human beings are blessed with amazing resilience. With love, courage, and faith, even the dimmest embers can be reanimated with the breath of life.
That’s why the ancients called it Prana.
Note: It was just announced today that Patti Smith received a personal invitation from Pope Francis to perform live at the Vatican Christmas Concert this year, and accepted.