When I was a young man, and
had barely begun what
would become a huge part of my life's work—the psychology
of aging—I had the good fortune to be invited to Berkeley, California,
to partner with Dr. Gay Luce in an innovative research program that came
to be known as the Sage Project. Our goal was to examine how the
bodies and minds of men and women past the age of sixty-five might be
refreshed so that they could continue to contribute to society or, at least,
remain sufficiently engaged to enjoy their later life. This was long
before yoga and meditation became popular in the US. Indeed, it was among
the very first preventative health care studies in North America.
More than thirty years later, I still recall most of the names and faces
of our initial fifteen volunteers, who met with us two times a week for
several hours. We regularly assigned homework to our subjects—journal
writing or certain physical exercises including yoga, meditation, biofeedback and
tai chi—and then tried to assess which had been most helpful in turning
back the aging clock. It was exciting work. There were no formulas. This
was new research.
Before long we could see that we were engaged in something special.
If life is a learning process where each day we uncover one more
meaningful tidbit and hope eventually to come to a full understanding of who we are
and what our purpose is, then just imagine the advantage of old age. It was
during my years with the Sage Project that I came to believe (and still do) that
we can all be wise beyond our years if we simply take the time to listen to
people who are in their twilight years and have climbed life's proverbial mountain.
I was awestruck by my elderly subjects' ability to reflect honestly on their
good and bad experiences, and speak coherently about what they had learned
from them.
Yet a disturbing theme emerged in our research. In one assignment,
our fifteen subjects were asked to chart the highs and lows of their life on a
single sheet of graph paper. It was up to them to decide what that meant. There
were no required inputs such as income, career advancement, marriage,
children, or social status. We simply wanted to know when and for
how long they felt good about themselves. We asked our sages to draw a
line across the center of a page, section it off by half decades, and then map
a line above and below for all the years of their life, much as you might chart
a stock price, monthly rainfall, or spotted owl sightings. Above the line
were periods when the sages enjoyed their life; below the line were periods
when life didn't measure up to their expectations. They could draw way above
the center line or way below it as a measure of how strongly they felt about
a particular high or low point. |
