The pains of getting older are no fun. But she uses every AA tool she’s got and copes a day at a time
I got sober when I was 54, and I’m not so young anymore. Aging with pain has been one of the most emotionally challenging things I’ve had to deal with in sobriety. Certainly, there have been the death of loved ones and other losses that have been really sad. I’ve learned that things pass. But the pain is persistent, continuous, and it does not pass. It comes back for another day. It drags me into my greatest fear of a decrepit and isolated old age. I’m learning the hard way that there’s no bargaining with God. But like everyone else in sobriety has learned, these things are better handled a day at a time.
My sponsor looks me in the face and says, “Look, we’re all dying.” And if we’re old, we are all starting to ache. It’s time to accept this as a reality of the aging process. I need to accept this as part of the natural cycle of life. That’s when I try to remember to pray, meditate, get outside myself, do service and cultivate relationships. No matter what I do or don’t do, I must accept that much of what’s happening is out of my control. I could do yoga all day long and still get hit by a bus tomorrow. Sigh. I’m much better at this some days than others.
Of course, my ability to deal with my health is directly proportional to the well-being of my spiritual life. Lately, in my search for a spiritual awakening—which admittedly has been of a particularly painful educational variety—I’ve read numerous books. From Buddhist teachings I’ve learned that pain is inevitably human, but suffering is optional. It’s the resistance to pain, be it physical or emotional, that causes suffering.
On occasion, when trying not to resist, I’ve been able to separate myself from the pain. During one recent bad period, I sat on the edge of my bed just letting it move through me. I still felt the pain, but I also experienced a lightness of being, as if I were floating above looking down on the pain. I came back into my body and thought, Well, that was interesting. What’s next? It was very liberating. For that moment I was not dominated by pain, and more importantly, I was freed from the fear.
I also try to stay conscious of gratitude for what I do have. Despite all my whining, I still have a lot of good health remaining. On many days I’m active and can keep up with my yoga practice. I also enjoy walking. I’m so fortunate to have the resources to access good medical care. I have doctors and physical therapists who address each new ailment, help me to maintain what flexibility I have, and manage my pain.
More than anything, I hold close my gratitude for the good fortune that I found AA before I really ruined my health. Physically, I was a train wreck waiting to happen. I hate to even think about what a few more years of drinking would have done to my health. I can too easily imagine what I would become—a ravaged and very angry old lady. That’s how I came into AA. It makes me shudder.
When I stopped whining and started redirecting my focus outside myself and on to helping others, I found it liberating. Freedom! I’ve found that service is always fulfilling (happy). And my life, taken in this moment is good (oh, joy!).