Author: Susan Schulte

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.

I recently read former United States Secretary of State Madeleine Albright’s book Fascism: A Warning. I found the book to be thought-provoking and informative. I appreciated Albright’s historical overview of the rise and fall of dictators, as well as her concerns about despotic leaders presently in power. Sad to say, there are many.

One characteristic of autocrats is a disregard of human rights. Related to this, Albright writes: “The real question is: who has the responsibility to uphold human rights? The answer to that is: everyone.” At one level, of course, books such as Albright’s emphasize the importance of laws being enacted that protect each person’s rights and of a judicial system that upholds those laws. These are essential to safeguarding citizens’ rights.

When I read Albright’s statement “The answer to that is: everyone,” in addition to viewing it from a systems standpoint, I also thought about it on an individual level. The ways that each of us interact with others, the causes that we care about and put time and effort into supporting, and the many choices we make each day that affect other people also add to the quality of human rights. My experience and the reading I’ve done have shown me that many aspects of Jungian psychological theory add meaning and purpose to life, and therefore I often view things through a Jungian lens. Basing our words and actions on that which we discern through inner direction not only adds to our consciousness and personal growth, but also enhances the lives of those with whom we come into contact. I believe this type of genuine interaction can certainly be considered another way of honoring human rights.

Saint Teresa of Avila was a nun, mystic, author, and religious reformer who lived in the sixteenth century. She wrote about many spiritual topics, and one of the things she said about prayer is: “For prayer is nothing else than being on terms of friendship with God.”

When I was a child, my parents and religious instruction teachers taught me and had me memorize prayers such as the Lord’s Prayer, the Hail Mary, and many others. For much of my childhood my parents and siblings said the rosary together most evenings. The other type of prayer I learned about when I was young was to pray for things I hoped would happen, such as that a sick family member would get well or that I would be given something I wanted to have.

It wasn’t until I became an adult that my prayers became more personal, more like what Saint Teresa describes. Although I believe there is a place for traditional prayers and prayer services, I find personal prayers to be more meaningful. The idea of “friendship with God” helps me to remember that the Creator is always listening, always present. I’ve lived long enough to know that what I want to happen isn’t what matters most, so I’ve come to include the words “that Your will be done” when I pray. I pray for people I know and love, and I pray for all the people in our world. I pray for certain causes and I pray for myself, that I will follow my inner voice and spiritual direction.

I share my ideas about prayer and also what Saint Teresa said in the hopes it will help others to have a more meaningful prayer life.

Earlier today I found myself thinking about some of the sad things that occur in our world and feeling discouraged that there isn’t more I can do to help. Then I came across these words by Mother Teresa: “We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.” Her words helped me.

In another post I wrote about the Serenity Prayer. When I’m feeling down because of limitations of what I’m able to do, I need to listen to the inner wisdom that helps me to know the difference between those things I cannot change and those that I can. So the answer is not to give up because of the enormity of some of the problems, but to discern as best we can what it is we are supposed to try to do. And then try to do it. And by doing so, to add to the “ocean” of love and compassion for others.