Insights by Amrita Suha. “A sweet joyful old age is mischievously stinging the top of my mouth and is patiently leading me to continue to explore the world within and without with an attentive and amused gaze!”
I will never forget my last day at work. It was the 30th of June 1987, in Paris.
After having worked for 30 years as a trilingual management secretary in three different countries, I quit my very last job so that I could spend more time at the Osho International Commune in Pune. I was celebrating the occasion with a glass of wine in a neighbourhood bar. And I remember, not only saying to myself, but really seeing and feeling it: ‘I will have a happy old age, surrounded by a lot of love’. There was this certainty that never made me fearful of my advancing age. And that’s exactly what I am living through now. But what I could not imagine at the time was the love I would discover not only around me, but also within me, like a song in the background that keeps going on undisturbed.
I was then only 48 years old. If I review my life in a flash: at 20 I was in a comatose state, at 30 I already felt dull, at 40 I had chosen a bridge under which the water seemed to flow more impetuously, but at 52 I was finally in Osho’s commune ready to live a love affair with a man and a master.
At 60, when alarm bells were already ringing among my peers, I felt like a young girl. At 70 I said to myself with a slight shudder: ‘Well now, let’s see what happens next’. And at 80 a new life started, with new friends and in a new neighbourhood, following an arson attack that deprived me of my previous home and all my belongings.
For 22 years I had lived with a man who was nine years older than me and whose old age was a hymn to joy, silence and awareness. After my partner disappeared – from my eyes but never from my heart – I have again been alone. That’s for almost 12 years now. And I live my old age like a gift and a tailor-made jewel.
My previously hard-earned income exempts me, to my great relief, from having to just survive and play a role in society. I can enjoy the freedom and joy of no longer having to comply with schedules or fulfil external duties. But this does not mean that I spent all these years being idle. I was given the opportunity of living out my dream of becoming a graphic designer and for eight years I worked in the commune for the Osho Times. I also discovered that I was a budding journalist and tried my hand at it. I find that to grow old and stay young there is nothing better than to work with joy!
For these last 25 years I have finally made a commitment to only work for myself and to do whatsoever my heart desires; reading, writing, learning, meeting friends, but – above all – to stop, to rest, or do absolutely useless things which I had denied myself before. To move only according to my inner rhythm and feelings, and to let myself be guided by the spark of my fascinated and penetrating gaze that sees small miracles everywhere: on the doorstep, on the side of an ordinary road, from a train window, in the wagging of a dog’s tail. What appears to be useless enriches my life; I stop and listen to anyone who has a story to tell, a smile to share or anything I can learn from. I even manage to be late for an appointment because too often I only get ready at the last minute, too lost in my own things!
Then the chores around the house have undergone a transformation… Little things I used to hate doing: to make my bed, change the rubbish bag, wash the dishes, and the whole house cleaning, now all come more naturally. The telephone stays silent: I don’t even hear the ringtone if I forget to put in my hearing aids.
When I was young I was concerned with my physical appearance and as I got older I found the fashion style that suited me best. I like the way I look and my white hair is a graceful touch! And to think that I had to wait quite a while before it turned that colour! I wear two devices in my ears and two in my mouth. If they bother me I take them out – and I’m not ashamed of them.
When I was young I was a big spender; old age makes me more prudent and essential. As an adult I was obsessed with order, in old age I appreciate the freedom of disorder. When I was young I saw and thought big; old age teaches me to love the ‘small’ which has become the true mirror of the ‘big’. This gives me a sense of measure that suits me, even if every now and then, like all living things, I have to cut back. And to pull down, shorten, rearrange that enthusiasm for a life that still makes me take risks. The veils of projection first jump into view. The good girl who wanted to show herself off at all costs has disappeared, leaving space for a moving mystery that surprises me. I have been tailoring my old age, brilliantly, the way I like it, taking into account my strengths, my weaknesses, my dreams, my physical possibilities.
With tenderness I observe my body, my faithful and obedient travelling companion. It grows older day by day, and for no reason whatsoever would I swap it with a body of any other age. I am so grateful for everything it has made me experience and still lets me experience. I find it more and more beautiful, more vulnerable, more sensitive. As an adult I pushed it to its limits without much concern, but in old age I listen to it and take care of it: better late than never, as we say! It’s clear that I am becoming more attentive to its limits and needs. I care that it stays alive and vibrant as long as we are together: a quantum leap from my side, and I do notice its beneficial effects. I have recently started to light a candle during meals to remind myself! I feel as beautiful as I have ever felt when I was younger!
There are a few aches and pains here and there and I can count my steps one by one so slow are they. And I have to avoid any abrupt movements so as not to lose my balance. But this is not a problem if I compare it to this great relief: I no longer have the feeling that I always need to be in the limelight, that I have to conquer something. Now I can let myself be conquered instead – and this by the beauty of life. A sort of retreat on all fronts. This was not even a choice; it happened spontaneously like an insight, like watching life’s game from the umpire’s chair of a tennis court.
My outlook on life has taken on a different dimension. Without regrets for whatever is no longer there, the horizon is narrowing and when there are any openings, like encounters with men for instance, I observe with more clarity what might still need to be experienced. From this point of view it’s not a dull old age without shocks. My passion for life wants to be lived out to the fullest. Despite my age, the dance continues. And I am grateful for what it brings, without exception. It’s enough for me to look at what comes my way, and I know that it’s exactly what I need to grow: I don’t bother to know it beforehand and its significance is beyond my wildest imagination. Even small things never come before I need them!
Life has smoothed many sharp corners, but there are still a few that sting: it sends me people who can still push my buttons and pop them like champagne corks. So much for tranquillity! What happens in my eventful life has now a nuance that didn’t touch me before. I notice that now things have a sort of urgency, as if my inner journey needs to be continued with even greater intensity. The fire of the journey is like that in a combustion chamber. As an adult I used to disperse my energy, now I need to collect it like in a fuel tank. This also means that I have had to learn how to surround myself with people who can fan the flame of this fire. And that’s why I have been moving from continent to continent, from city to city: to meet friends of my heart, to meet those with whom I can open my soul, those who can give me food for thought, because they love me; and with whom I can laugh out loud – the best fuel for a happy old age.
From the heights of this age I feel like casting a glance back – in order to understand what threads have allowed me to respond to the call of love and also to welcome the beauty of this last stretch of the journey. A basic attitude has characterised my journey: I have never closed the doors to my heart, even when it was broken and bleeding. I have been able to unearth pearls of rare beauty among its ashes. And where else can we find the fire if not buried under the ashes? I feel as if in life I have been a scrapper: I’m interested in ruins of all kinds – underneath them we can find real treasures!
A sweet joyful old age is mischievously stinging the top of my mouth and is patiently leading me to continue to explore the world within and without with an attentive and amused gaze!
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