Month: November 2019

In the section entitled “Passages” of his book Meeting Force with Silence, Jungian psychotherapist Dr. Terry Chitwood writes: “Late adulthood brings a mellow acceptance. You have seen more suffering than you had ever cared to see. You have experienced more joy than you had ever thought possible. You have seen friends die, babies born. Your body is different, but your spirit is the same.”

Writers whose writing adds to the quality of my life is something for which I am very thankful. Writing that causes me to reflect, that adds to my knowledge about our world, that inspires me, that brings to mind memories. Dr. Chitwood’s words about late adulthood cause me to contemplate both my elderly mother and where she is on her life journey and also myself as I enter late adulthood.

My mother, who turned 100 years old a few months ago, grew up during the Great Depression, and her parents were quite poor. So she certainly had some challenges from the beginning. One of the ways she has been fortunate over the years, however, is that she has had few health problems. Her blessing of good health changed a few years ago though, when symptoms of dementia began to appear and also when she became weaker, affecting her ability to walk. I have been proud of her as she has made the effort to continue walking (using a walker), even though she moves very slowly.

I recognize in my mother the “mellow acceptance” of which Dr. Chitwood writes. When I enter her apartment at the assisted living facility where she has lived the past few years, she usually is sitting on the couch listening to classical music and looking at a book or magazine. Other times when I arrive she is in a common area with other people who live there. In either case, I see that quality of acceptance. This is her life now. Not the busy life of earlier years—being my father’s helpmate, caring for my siblings and me, working at various jobs, and assisting her parents when they became elderly. She has completed those commitments and did them well.

I pray that my mother may have peace and comfort during these final years of her earthly journey.

“We often take for granted the very things that most deserve our gratitude.” This quote by Cynthia Shoshana Ozick, an American short story writer, novelist, and essayist, rings true for me. How easy it can be to take for granted the air we breathe, the life-sustaining rain, and the abilities that most of us have to see, hear, taste, and sense in other ways.

A friend of mine complains whenever it rains. I suppose she doesn’t think about what would happen if it never rained again. And this very likely is her way of saying she prefers sunny days, which I understand. I love to see the blue sky too. But in a way, my friend takes for granted the benefits that rain brings.

Many people don’t think about the material things that are readily available to them—variety and easy access to foods, a comfortable home in a safe neighborhood, a vehicle that gets them where they want to go with a minimum of effort. In many parts of the world—and for some people in the United States too—millions of people do not have these gifts.

I have found that, as people grow in consciousness, they tend to grow in ability to feel gratitude as well. Becoming more aware of inner direction through dreams, synchronicities, intuitive promptings, and unexpected happenings helps us in many ways, including enabling us to recognize how very much we have been given. Doing inner work leads to the realization that our egos are just one aspect of our psyches, of the person we are. This can lead to noticing and appreciating the many blessings we have been given.

I have also found that having the ability to be genuinely thankful adds meaning and a sense of peace to our lives.