Thoughts on Turning Sixty

Today (Thursday) I turn sixty. It seemed such a long way off and now, suddenly, it is here! I cannot say that I am sad to see the end of my 50s, as they were a challenging time.

They were an extended period of ill health with my MS diagnosis followed only a couple of years later by that of breast cancer. It was a decade filled with hospital appointments, intrusive and often painful procedures. It was a decade marked by despair and endless, endless adjustments to an ever-shifting reality. Yet.

Up from the ashes

It has also been a decade of tremendous growth. Coping with all of the above has forced me to consider the ways that we can manage a life that is less than ideal. My guide on this journey was the inimitable Jon Kabat-Zinn, whose opus Full Catastrophe Living was my starting point.

Just as entering a hospice releases the patient from the well-meaning ‘Get well soons’, so this book released me from unrealistic hope. It said, rather bluntly, that you are sick; you are not likely to get better, but here is what we can do about it so that you can live with grace and even joy.

In addition, I engaged therapists who helped me navigate first the difficulties of MS and then to cope with whatever outcome my cancer may bring. (It carried a 75% survival rate, but one in four not surviving felt a little daunting.)

These amazing women enabled me to let go of the burdens we all carry psychologically and, I truly believe, set me on the path to healing.

In tandem with this, I embarked full-heartedly on the OMS lifestyle – switching to a plant based diet, keeping active through the pain, seeking guidance and employing meditation and prayer more consistently.

And it worked.

At sixty, I am, against all odds, able to live a full life. I may not be able to walk far, but I can walk.

And throughout these difficult years, there were the most joyous occasions. Both my sons married and now I have two, beautiful and talented daughter-in-laws who I am proud to call family. I also have an adorable granddaughter, Sofia, who is a bright and charming as can be.

We have a crazy, bouncy, and loving Cocker Spaniel who keeps us feeling fit and loved. We have our Ukrainian guest, Mariia, who is a joy. She has taught us so much about her home and the trials her countrymen face.

On a personal side, retiring from both teaching and volunteering at Citizens’ Advice has meant missing good company and stimulating work, but it does give me space to rest and pursue my own interests.

My days are usually filled with all sorts of loveliness. Little of it is FB worthy, but trips to Birling Gap; crafting with friends and working in the garden give me the most pleasure of all.

If the last decade has taught me anything, it is that we should not sweat the small stuff but celebrate it. Practising gratitude daily has, I’m sure, transformed my brain. All the things that seemed so important when I was younger: status, wealth, possessions have lost their allure. A single flower is a masterpiece; a novel, a whole world.

The cliche that great pain can lead to great growth has been true in my case. I would not wish the pain on anyone, but it is humbling. And we are not alone. Everyone struggles. Everyone suffers. Attuning to this can help us develop compassion.

Mirror image

My planned life and my actual one have been mirror images. As someone still playing tennis and cycling into their late forties, I’d assumed that my good health would continue indefinitely. With my children grown and settled, I could indulge in a proper career (with a pension!) and travel with my husband.

Or not.

Perhaps the greatest challenge has been to accept that. My life is certainly different, but I cannot say that it is really worse. I can fill my days with art, reading, writing and companionship. These are all the things I love.

As for my 60s? Who knows what they will bring and I no longer try to anticipate the future. There is today and there is tomorrow and I plan to relish every minute of it. And I hope that you can do the same.