The Rage of Age

Fire, uncontained, destroys. Fire, contained and focused, creates, transforms, and welcomes.

As I approach the upper levels of my anticipated lifespan, I notice the extent to which rage has lurked in my negotiations of life’s challenges and opportunities. Perhaps it began in the gritty arena of the primary school playground, where, at the tender age of seven, I attempted to channel the nonviolent spirit of Mahatma Gandhi amidst the type A brawls and schemes of my tormentors.

This month marks the seventh anniversary of my official retirement from pastoral ministry. Yet, while I’ve stepped away from formal contracts, my vocational engagement remains vibrantly intact across several church communities and projects.

So, where does rage smolder now? And where is there space for the sage to emerge?

Connie Sweiz, author of The Inner Work of Age: Shifting from Role to Soul, suggests three portals that emerge more prominently at this latter stage of life. We all pass through them eventually. How gracefully we pass through them will vary.
Sweiz names them as –
* Shadow awareness: the portal to depth
* Pure awareness: the portal to silent vastness
* Mortality awareness: the portal to presence

I recognise here how the fires of rage can feed either resistance or creativity, sometimes both at the same time.

The portal to depth is more familiar to me at this time. Over the last seven years, I have often commented that I may have retired from pastoral ministry, but not from serving my vocation. I enjoy having shed the responsibilities of tying the red tape of weddings, governance compliance, running safe programs and strategic planning. I am enlivened by simply being available to listen, encourage, teach and occasionally lead worship. I now have time to meditate, write, and dream. Passing through this portal allows me to carry much of what has been meaningful to me and express it in more expansive ways.

The portal to silent vastness does not loom large at this stage. I accept diminishing physical capacity. Cognitively, I remain as sharp as I have ever been, and my spirit feels ageless. I visit my doctor more frequently to monitor my hypertension and take some vitamin supplements that serve me well. My diet is modest, even though I am genetically disposed to obesity. Gradual loss of physical energy, rather than illness, points me toward this portal which, while not dominant in my awareness, is clear and beckoning. No rage here (yet)!

Mortality is just over the horizon, and the brochures are already here in the forms for guardianship and advanced care directives waiting to be filled. The will needs to be updated, along with my “What to do when I die” folder that contains all my passwords and essential documents. Oddly, Sweiz names this the portal of presence. Benedictine spirituality is constantly aware of the finiteness of human life and welcomes this presence daily in the prayers of the hours. I believe I, too, am aware of death’s presence in the context of the eternal Presence in which all cycles of life are called into their time of being and their return. I feel no compulsion to “rage against the night” as if it’s an enemy.

So my fireplace, for now, is well contained and comfy. I remain watchful and alert for the stray ember.