The Luxury of Being Old

Lyric: Those were the days my friend/ I thought they’d never end/ We’d sing and dance forever and a day/ We’d live the life we choose/ We’d fight and never lose/ For we were young and sure to have our way.

Just finished reading The Fifth Mountain by Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho, perhaps best known for his bestseller, The Alchemist.  The Fifth Mountain is spiritual fiction based the biblical account of the prophet Elijah.

Brief Synopsis:  Elijah escapes death from a decree by the Phoenician Princess Jezebel.  He is guided to the town of Akbar and, after a miracle where he brings a dead boy back to life, he is accepted by the people in an unofficial position of leadership.  The city is decimated by Assyrians and their men killed.  All that is left are women, children and the old.  Elijah tells the old people, “Akbar needs your help.  Because of that, you don’t have the luxury of being old; we need the youth that you once had and have lost.”

Those words, “the luxury of being old,” jumped off the page at me.  I had to ponder the meaning.  The luxury of being old implies that the old are not needed, are worthless.  Webster puts it this way: a luxury is usually something considered unnecessary to life and health.  Is old age a luxury?  Unnecessary?  Superfluous?  Elijah, however, recognizes the spirit of youth residing in the elders.  “We need the youth that you once had and have lost.”

I’ve heard it said many times and it’s true for me, of having the body of a 70, 80, 90 year old, but the mind of a 16 year old.  I don’t know that we really ever “lost” our youth, rather there’s a layer of youth within all elders.  It may be buried deep for some, in those who have forgotten how to play, the prerequisite for laughter.  Elders often lack the resiliency of youth to make changes after the Assyrians attack; after your spouse dies, when you can no longer drive safely and must surrender your wheels, when good health is interrupted, after the Katrinas.  We developed habits and patterns of being that are familiar and provide us with a comfort zone that we want to maintain.  Change threatens our comfort zone.  But Elijah challenges the old to tap into the youth dwelling inside because the Assyrians have taken away the luxury of being old, of being unneeded.

Elijah recalls the story of Jacob wrestling with the Lord/angel and then demanding a blessing.  He is given a new name, Israel.  Elijah tells Akbar’s survivors, “Each one has a name from birth but must learn to baptize his life with the word he has chosen to give meaning to that life.”  He requires that “Each of you will give yourselves a new name, beginning at this very moment.  This will be the sacred name that brings together in a single word all that you have dreamed of fighting for.”

This reminded me of what I’d read about the Australian Aborigines; that they’re not given names as babies/infants/children.  They select their name when they’re older, and they change names as they age; names that reflect their inner growth.

I closed my eyes and asked for my sacred Elder name, not really expecting anything.  But surprisingly, it came to me immediately.  May it be so for you.  The story of Elijah gave me much to think about and a new perspective on the role of elder.  Other thoughts?

Lyrics: Through the door there came familiar laughter/ I saw your face and heard you call my name/ Oh my friend we’re older but no wiser/ For in our hearts the dreams are still the same.  (Mary Hopkin)