Every time you engage in something you learn from it. (Jack Canfield).
Some time ago, I got a shock when I visited a friend who used to be my boss many many years before but was now living in a resthome.
In those early days of working, I was well down the food chain and my friend (then my boss) was generally regarded as a substitute, if not replacement for, God: except that he had more power and authority than God.
It was a spur of the moment decision for my wife and I to go and see him and, in the event, he wasn’t there. However, during the visit, we ended up in the resthome lounge (yes, the archetypal resthome lounge) with the inmates seated in comfy chairs around the room perimeter staring into space or sleeping. Reflecting on my ex boss’s changed situation set me thinking about the radical shifts each of these peoples’ lives had taken compared to their earlier years in which most would have likely exercised varying degrees of independence: independence that was now considerably reduced.
Over the years, I have spent a fair bit of time visiting rest homes but, for some reason, this visit knocked me between the eyes. It was a classic place, very nice with staff who were both helpful and attentive, and the food was good. But, what I found scary was the realisation that, if I somehow found myself in such a place, it could be so easy to be drawn into their (the home’s) routines and needs and become one of the people sitting around staring into space.
For my part, I was staring into a possible future and thinking ‘Hell, is this what it could hold’. The experience brought to the fore my principle of never placing responsibility for my well-being in the hands of others, no matter how well-meaning they are, unless I absolutely have to: resist to the last possible moment. It was a powerful experience.
When I got home I went for a long walk around the hills and next morning, hit the gym with a vengeance.
I have always hoped that as time progresses, I will ultimately be fortunate enough that, in great physical and mental shape, I will exit the planet by falling off a cliff (or the medical equivalent in terms of speed) thereby avoiding the rest-home scenario.
This may all sound a bit morbid but I do question how we treat the aged and, much earlier on in our lives, ourselves. Someone once said ‘If you treat a person as an eagle they will probably behave like one’ and the reverse applies.
Notwithstanding that life is capricious, if we accept being treated as becoming increasingly dependent on others while being nicely and benignly pressured into fitting the routines and needs of others, we set ourselves up for whatever comes next.
Increased ‘comfort ‘ in a rest-home is not necessarily the answer because by then it is too late to fundamentally alter our quality of life. I suspect that most times, the damage is incremental, starts much earlier, and depends on how well we evolve our attitude towards maintaining our mental and physical health, our choice of role-models and how fiercely we protect and evolve our autonomy.
My experience also raised the matter of whether, as we age, we should just give in or strive for eternal youth. My view is that neither position is useful: striving for eternal youth is bound to end in tears and ‘giving in’, as with the resthome observations, limits our potential to fully enjoy what life has to offer. However, the majority of people (taking a chance here) do little to enhance their old age, particularly with regard to maintaining their health, and accept what they see as the inevitable – ‘it’s how it is’!
But the question is, ‘For how many of the residents was their predicament inevitable?
Short story – Do something! Act now!
Many people do not want to know about problems. They see them as evidence of failure, something to be hidden, not to be discussed in polite company. Yet, on a personal level, or as a manager, problems are treasures – you need them.
Other than by solving problems, how else can you demonstrate that you (or your organisation) are improving? No problems to solve – no chance of improvement. Dead in the water!
The worst thing to hear is no problems, ‘Everything is fine’ – scary stuff.
Naturally, one hopes not to keep on ‘solving’ the same old problem.