The paradox of growing old
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Billy Howard
There is a strange contradiction at the heart of the human experience. If you ask a room full of people whether they want to live to be one hundred years old, most will raise their hands. But to ask those same people if they are excited about getting old, the room usually goes silent. We are a society obsessed with longevity, yet terrified of the aging process itself. This paradox reveals a deep-seated tension: we want more time, but we are afraid of what that time might do to us.
The “pitfalls” of aging are usually what capture our attention first as, from a young age we are conditioned to see getting older as a series of losses. Physically, the body slows down and we worry about losing the ability to run, drive, or even live independently. There is also the fear of cognitive decline; the idea that our memories, the very things that make us who we are, might eventually fade.
Beyond the physical, there is a social pitfall. In many modern cultures, youth is treated as a currency given that we celebrate the “new” and the “fast,” which can leave older generations feeling “invisible.” High school students, for example, often feel this in reverse; striving to be taken seriously while the world tells them they are too young. For the elderly, the fear is becoming irrelevant, as if their contributions have an expiration date. When we look at aging through this lens, it’s no wonder we try to “biohack” our way out of it or spend billions on anti-aging creams.
However, focusing only on the decline ignores the profound benefits that only time can provide. Psychologists often point to “crystallized intelligence;” the ability to use accumulated knowledge and experience to solve problems. While a younger person might react to a crisis with speed and panic, an older person often reacts with a “measured response.” They have seen the movie of life before; they know how the plot tends to go.
There is also a significant emotional benefit: the “positivity effect.” Research shows that as people age, they often become happier and more resilient. They stop “sweating the small stuff.” The insecurities that haunt high school and early adulthood; worrying about what others think or feeling the need to constantly prove oneself, tend to melt away. There is a certain freedom in reaching a stage of life where your value is rooted in who you are rather than what you are “going to become.”
The real issue isn’t aging itself; it’s our expectation of what a “long life” should look like. We have made incredible medical progress that allows us to live longer, but we are still working on how to live better. The goal shouldn’t just be to add years to our lives, but to add life to our years.
This requires a shift in how we view the elderly. Instead of seeing them as a burden or a glimpse into a “frail” future, we should see them as survivors. They are the keepers of “local knowledge” and the anchors of families. When we bridge the gap between generations, both sides win. Younger people gain a roadmap for the future, and older people gain the “generativity” that comes from passing on their legacy.
Ultimately, wanting to live longer while fearing old age is a very human way to feel. It shows that we value life so much we’re afraid to lose the versions of ourselves we currently love. But aging is not just a process of “wearing out;” it is a process of “becoming.”
If we can learn to accept that change is the only constant, we might find that the stars of wisdom and peace are only visible once the bright sun of youth begins to set. We shouldn’t just hope for a long life; but prepare for a meaningful one.
To pose a question, comment, or share your opinion about this opinion, you can reach Howard at bg@authorbghoward.com or P. O. Box 8103, Jacksonville, FL 32239.
