I’ve never referred to myself as old or getting older. I’ve never attributed an ache or pain to age. I’ve never worried that not remembering a person’s name has anything to do with my number of years on this planet.
This has been intentional.
First, I think doing so makes one sound defeated, resigned, and surrendered.
I’m not interested in giving up or capitulating.
Also, and more importantly, the brain is constantly listening to what we say, seeking clues about how it should be acting in response to the world around us and how we perceive that world and ourselves.
Smile, even if your smile is forced and fake, and the brain perceives you as happy and reduces your heart rate.
Squint in the sun, and your brain thinks you’re tired and releases chemicals that will make you drowsy.
Positive self-talk has been shown to help athletes and performers achieve specific goals.
Therapists teach versions of positive self-talk in cognitive behavioral therapy. It’s often recommended to enhance memory formation and mood stabilization.
What we say matters.
Say something often enough, or even just once, and you will begin to believe it.
Your brain will begin to believe it.
So I don’t talk about aging. I never speak about getting old. I avoid it at all costs.
But I’m not the only one who thinks this way.
There’s an interview with Mick Jagger from when he was 58, in which an interviewer suggests he’s too old to be a rock singer. She’s snarky, rude, and presumptuous. She nearly scolds Jagger for not acting his age.
Jagger handles the interview well. He’s polite but implacable. Unwavering, really. When she suggests that he’s pathetic for still performing at his age, he continues to smile.
Jagger is 82 now and still selling out stadiums.
I can’t help but wonder whether the interviewer — age 61 at the time of the interview — is still alive, and, if so, what she is doing.
Probably not much based upon her perception of what age means.
Jagger, Paul McCartney, Bruce Springsteen, and others of their generation endured decades of accusations and sneers for not “acting their age,” but today, few people make those accusations anymore. By stubbornly persisting and refusing to slow down, Jagger’s generation has changed our ideas of what “acting your age” means and what people can continue to do regardless of their age.
They’ve changed the perception of what is possible as our years on the planet increase.
But here’s the thing:
Jagger, McCartney, and many of their contemporaries hardly ever engage in age-based self-deprecation. They never make jokes about their age or use their age as an excuse for anything.
Springsteen still performs shows that last up to three hours or more, and the man never stops.
Jagger and folks like him are playing the double game to perfection:
Simultaneously aware of age and oblivious to it.
Smart, I think. Genius, maybe.
I’m sure that my body felt different when I was 25, but honestly, I don’t know how. I feel exactly the same as I did when I was half my age. I was likely faster, stronger, more flexible, and more agile when I was younger, but I don’t feel that way.
My mind doesn’t register a difference.
I feel like I have just as much energy, strength, and agility today as I did when I graduated from high school.
This is almost certainly not true, but that’s not important. The important part is that I feel young, full of energy, strong, and agile. I don’t think I feel any different.
I don’t feel old or older at all.
I also do things like exercise every day. Carry my golf bag on my back. Play basketball with people half my age. Listen to new music. Make new friends. Stay as current as possible with technology. Relentlessly seek ways to expand my life by trying new and hard things.
I go to New York City for a night of storytelling, music, or comedy, arrive home well after midnight, and go to work the next morning without complaint, just as I did when I was 18, 25, and 35.
I still attend Monday night games in Gillette Stadium in sub-zero temperatures, only to arrive home after 2:00 AM and leave the house at 7:30 AM the next morning for work.
I’ve never once thought that I was too old, too mature, or too tired to continue doing things I did when I was younger.
I suspect Mick Jagger and his compatriots feel the same way:
Simultaneously aware of age yet intentionally oblivious to it.
Aware of the number of times they have circled the Sun, but rejecting as much of it as possible.
Never, ever saying, “I’m old” or “I’m getting old,” or anything of the kind.
Saying things like that is akin to putting one foot in the grave. It’s literally telling your brain to put one foot in the grave.
No, thank you. I’ll be busy trying like hell not to act my age.
