Eldering

Becoming an elder is more than passively aging. Often called a teacher, knowledge keeper, or sage, an elder actively creates a legacy. The process of understanding our own strongest, most unique values, and deliberately instilling these in the next generation, is life’s finest work. Many older friends of mine are already taking steps to leave something behind that grows and evolves when they are gone.

The process of imparting wisdom is often misunderstood as something that begins at the same point – retirement – for everyone. Actually, an elder can be any age if they are respected and recognized by the community. Although we cannot self-declare ourselves elders, it is possible to work toward becoming one. As no one can escape aging, we are always in transition, biologically or otherwise. Then what is eldering?

The concept of eldering has surfaced to denote elderhood capturing functional, rather than chronological, concepts of age. More than just living well, this requires nurturing others to live well. For example, Schachter-Shalomi and Miller describe in their visionary text From Age- ing to Sage-ing:

“people don’t automatically become sages simply by living to a great age. They become wise by undertaking the inner work that leads them to expand their consciousness…through a process of conscious and deliberate growth, becoming sages who are capable of guiding their families and communities with hard- earned wisdom…in this way, elderhood represents the crowning achievement of life.” (p.15-17)

We begin to see how eldering requires a relational, collaborative, and informed approach. The process may vary across cultures, and I have elders in my life from several different cultures. Apropos, I have previously written about Lesley Nan Haberman, the headmistress and founder of the Montessori preschool The Family Schools in Manhattan, to whom I am deeply indebted for her wisdom and her leading by example. In a sense, eldering is a manifestation of core human values and humanity itself.

During a recent phone conversation with my 85-year-old father, a laconic widower living alone in my hometown in Japan, he gently shared his simple, conscious practice – the act of bowing deeply and smiling to greet random people passing by in the neighbourhood – whereby he contributes to promoting a harmonious society. I imagined him gently bowing. He went on: “I often wonder about the mysteries of the vast universe and continue to be in awe of how frail we humans are, like insignificant bugs”, adding, “No fighting and no enemies. Never do any harm to others.” Through his gentle voice, I felt his humility before the great unknown and deep feeling for the precious unity of all life. When did he become so ‘round’? Perhaps I was not paying attention to him before.

His remarks reminded me of the famous quote by Blaise Pascal, “Man is but a reed, the feeblest thing in nature, but he is a thinking reed.” My father and Pascal call attention to the significance of the awakening of consciousness at any moment. This consciousness of our own weakness and mortality makes us distinctly human and worthy, which might just promote peaceful, inclusive societies. “By space, the universe encompasses and swallows me up like an atom; by thought I comprehend the world,” says Pascal.

Thinking is more easily learned than taught. In contemporary eldering, how can we promote understanding of unique individual lives in the complex world outside?

While wisdom and insight are unique to each culture and person, are there principles of eldering that may help us mend what has been torn, heal what has been injured in our contemporary world? Widening wealth gaps, hate crimes, inaction in the face of catastrophic climate change, blind ignorance in the face of a deadly pandemic – these test our hypothesis that eldering is wisdom in action. For example, uneven global COVID vaccine distribution is not only unjust but self-defeating. With only 3 percent of people in Africa having been fully vaccinated, compared with 69 percent in Canada, new mutations may arise in Africa and spread to the rest of the world. This year, The Lancet published a commentary noting that “Canadian leadership on global vaccine equity was an early casualty of COVID-19.”

How is it that we have so little understanding of the essential truth of life, that we share this Earth and must work together or perish? Our history is replete with examples of human folly. And now, the stakes could not be higher. And just last month, the IPCC report on the looming climate catastrophe announced “code red” for our planet. Yet, while British Columbia was choking on the smoke from massive wildfires and hundreds were dying from heat-related causes in a single blazing weekend, Canada blithely continued mining the tar sands, building pipelines, and clear-cutting virgin forests.

Searching for coherent examples of eldering, I look to my Japanese roots to find ways to illuminate the ideal of people harmoniously living together with nature. Many proverbs, rites, and festivals related to rice have been passed down in all parts of Japan, showing a close relationship between Japanese people and rice cultivation.

The rice fields in fall are beautiful, with golden fluffy rice ears hanging down by their weight and swaying in the wind. We say, “Minoru hodo koube wo tereru inaho kana”—the more fruitful the ear of rice, the lower it droops. It is true for humans as well. We become humble as learning and virtue deepen. And conversely, the smaller the person, the more arrogant. Nature teaches us. When I was young, my mother was always reminding me to eat every grain of rice from my bowl: “Hito tsubu mo nokosanaide tabenasai.” There was a beautiful, mindful reciprocity, cycles of giving and taking, between nature and humans.

In the West, our culture has neglected the basic needs of the soul. We must place our souls into our everyday actions. Perhaps bowing our heads may be the first step.

Keiko completed a Ph.D. in Public Health in NYU and a post-doctoral fellowship in Cancer Epidemiology in Columbia University where she worked as a research scientist before she moved to Vancouver in 2009. She is the founder and executive director of Vancouver Arts Colloquium Society, linking her passion and experience to build healthy and more resilient communities. She presently teaches a course, Social Artistry Through Co-Creation at the Simon Fraser University’s Continuing Studies to shed light on the shared roots of artistic development and of systems change to create more possibilities in our community. She was awarded the 2014 Remarkable Women by the City of Vancouver. She lives in Vancouver with her daughter and enjoys watercolour painting and organizing artists’ salons.