I haven’t moved much. Now I’m in a chair. A chair that isn’t mine, gazing at a fireplace that isn’t mine, eating dried fruit that isn’t mine, but also, sort of is, all at once. My legs are still sore. Maybe more so than yesterday. This is what happens. It is a progression. I don’t know why it works that way. I mean, I have some sense of why it works that way scientifically (or medically- what IS the proper description), but I don’t know why the universe made such things this way.
In my mind, it would make more sense for the soreness to just always get progressively better. No worse and then better. Just better. Straight away. Straight to goodness and away from ickiness that makes you regret doing that thing you did to get here.
Anyway, I digress.
I am in this chair, and I am contemplating those lyrics. Those powerful lyrics. Two thoughts occur to me simultaneously. One is that disregarding or muting the age thresholds in the song makes it incredibly relatable for me. The second is that the age or life periods mentioned in the song are significant.
Is there any point in life in which we are told that things are going to be messy? Or scary? There is unquestionably a point in which people (people meaning the societal whole) decide that we should have our shit together. You know it, I know it. It’s just a thing.
Have you ever participated in one of those, cluck, cluck, ‘it’s so sad that s/he hasn’t figured it out by now conversations’? I have been privy to those type of observations. I think the saddest part is that I often want to come to the defense of the person at the epicenter of the criticism, but I feel powerless to do so. I think there is a part of me that feels like if I jump in, the conversation will shift to me, and I don’t feel equipped to navigate that tidal wave.
There have assuredly been times when the chat turns to my corner anyway, but I’d rather not be the catalyst for that action. I’d rather sit and wait, and manage my response, if that’s where we land.
There have been occasions where I’ve raised my hand as a mechanism to staunch the flow of judgment and criticism, but I pick those battles. Pick those battles- what an interesting turn of phrase. What does that really mean? I suppose for me, it means that I am choosing the issues I want to be outspoken about and those where I’d rather stay a bit under the radar. The issue itself is not always the threshold consideration. Sometimes it is about my frame of mind or emotional state. If I am feeling overly sensitive or fragile based on something I’m working through or my current life status or the state of the world, I might avoid any confrontation. I may feel like at that moment, the spotlight shifting to me would be highly detrimental to my emotional well-being.
I want to veer a bit off course for a moment, if you will entertain me, because I believe it to be a meaningful aside. I was speaking with a new friend recently and spoke to the concept of picking one’s battles. I’ve certainly explored that concept on this blog before. I’m not going to do a historical deep dive to compare any thoughts or opinions I previously shared. Rather, I’m going to share from the place I stand today.
Picking one’s battles is particularly relevant when exploring aging and the implications behind such, for so many reasons. As we age, most of us refine our thoughts and opinions based on our life experience. I would love to tell you that we all grow smarter, but I think we all know that’s not the case. That said, I don’t want to suggest that anyone who isn’t growing in a positive direction is a waste or that there are nefarious intentions buried there. Not at all. I speak from deeply personal experience when I share that sometimes we are so wounded that our sole focus is survivability. We just want to get through each day and that feels like enough. We don’t want to get a point across or win and argument or prevail in a disagreement. We just want status quo in the purest sense. We have no need to rock the boat.
Taking aside the highly personal choice to pick a battle, is there perhaps some meaningful discussion to entertain here whereas we explore the picking of battles in the context of aging and societal expectations? Yes. The answer is yes.
You might be thinking that I’ve lost my damn mind right about now. What does all of this mean? Why am I chasing this tangent down a rabbit hole? Well, okay, fair questions. Here is my honest answer: I think each time we expend a good deal of energy determining which battles to pick, we take energy away from the exercise of figuring out who we are and what we want. You guessed it, authenticity. I think the ability to discover our most authentic self comes from a place of understanding what we stand for, what is meaningful to us, and how we want to present ourselves to the world.
I think we often present in a way that serves the universe more so than we serve ourselves. I think when we do that, when we seek to serve or answer to others’ expectations, our statements morph into explanations and excuses. I think we apologize too often. I think we are terrified to state that we don’t know or haven’t figured it out just yet.
Perhaps the place to begin is defining a battle. This sentiment is particularly poignant right now, given the state of the world. Maybe that’s the problem. When formulating the catch phrase or age-old advice, someone should have used a different descriptor. Using the word ‘battles’ formulates images of violence, aggression, and extreme clashes. I don’t think that was the intent, or perhaps it was, but I know that’s not my intention now. Of course, I’ll clarify to ensure that we are on the same page.
Ultimately, I think the expression is meant to convey that one should pick the issues they defend and hold steadfast to, no matter the opposition. Of course, if we consider battles in the purest sense of things, we might believe that the “picking” needs to be extraordinarily selective and meaningful. If I’m going to stand up or push back, you bet your ass it’s going to be for something or someone or some situation where I have a certain level of comfort.
But maybe, just maybe, that’s the biggest issue. Maybe the biggest problem is that we believe that the place where we draw the line is a place of solid assurance and absolute confidence and zero margin for error. Bahaha. I hope you had a good laugh to yourself in that moment. Is anything a guarantee in life? I think not.
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