At nearly 83, I now barely remember my 70s. I've been working nonstop, except for 1978 to 1986, when I was deeply involved in a spiritual community in India and Oregon. My fourth husband of 38 years and I have owned a small fitness studio for over 20 years, and still run it. Just yesterday, I finally hired a Bookkeeper as it felt quite unfulfilling to continue doing it all.. Recently, I have noticed a strong desire to simplify my life and finally live in a quieter way. The stress of our current political situation has prompted me to slow down, find my joy as a form of resistance, start the process of decluttering, and spend more time with supportive and loving friends. I've been told for many years I should write a book about my life, so I'm beginning the process by writing on Substack. At times, I feel shaky as some of my physical limitations are worsening, but I forge ahead knowing my time here is limited. I am grateful to be alive and contributing.
I love that life for you. Finding joy as resistance, a strategy many of us are choosing in response to this moment. I look forward to reading your Substack.
Halfway through 74 it's poignancy that hits me, hard, in every way. Nothing anymore feels pedestrian, an ordinary experience, but rather like a coda, reflectively rich and remarkable. I feel vividly present. Thanks for this essay. xo
I was bothered by turning 60. It seemed so old, such a big number, but then that turned out to be the year that I was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Thankfully, while it isn't curable, it's treatable and fairly stable at the moment. It definitely changed my perspective on aging though. I threw myself a "still alive at 65" party when I reached that milestone. Now I'm surprised to find myself 72 and still living an active and productive life! I've learned a lot about living in the moment and I don't spend much time musing about what was or what could have been.
Yes, high school 1970 - 1973. Mescaline before even my first cigarette. concerts at Fillmore West. Hitchhiking to Santa Cruz. Sometimes I am in awe that I am still alive.
And yet I feel so alive! I went from corporate life to making art, walking 3+ miles a day, traveling. I still Dress with a capital “D”. If it weren’t for the state of our country and our world at large, life would be pretty perfect.
The 70’s….I went from 4 to 14. My parents were young, 21 and 23 and these were the years that they became grown ups I guess. I was their only kid until 1970 and I was very observant at a young age about what was important to them. My dad passed 7/23 and my mom 2/24. While I was driving last spring, Bridge Over Troubled Water came on and I had to pull over and sob for so long. I called my younger sister and said “I have never gotten over their divorce in 1979 and now they’re gone…and they would be crushed that their country is where it’s at today. I think they “got in and out” lol during pretty good and hopeful times…so I’m still here and it’s like I bear their grief too. It’s strangely ok because I so solidly carry their humanity and progressive thinking….it’s beautifully painful I guess….
Wow! So much there. I, too am in my 70's and most recently re-friended that person I was in the 70's but wiser and more comfortable in my skin. So much of what you wrote is so familiar, from patchouli to the long hair to color orange (that color bring a recent discovery). My sartorial taste back in the day was hand made clothing from Indian print bedspreads purchased in head shops, work boots (winter) and leather sandals (summer). I open my chock full closets today and contrast that to when my entire wardrobe would fit in a small suitcase. I love this period of my life, still full of hope and curiosity. Thank you and cheers to rest of us!
OMG did I just write this? Patchouli oils, incense, Indian bedspreads made into dresses, bells on my shoes, beads, head shops....... Bob Dylan, Peter Paul and Mary, guitar strumming, hours in the sun/outside. I was there, too
The suitcase metaphor is a great one reflecting how much things have changed when it comes to how we consume. It's taken me four years to pare down the clothes I own into two racks and a bureau. I love re-friending the person we were in the 70's except wiser and more comfortable with who we are.
I relate to so much of this as I enter my 70s also, although for me, I never stopped searching for mystical experiences and always followed my heart even when it led me on the scenic route instead of a destination. But especially when you write about not wanting to write an ESSAY. I want to keep writing but no longer with expectations, only because writing itself feels satisfying to me. The 70s came with an inner knowing even in the midst of this chaotic world and I feel very protective of my inner musing and wandering and lingering. I love the midnight garden you describe.
Wonderful, insightful writing as ever, Lyn. I am now 64 but have experienced a crossing from one place to another since entering this decade in the middle of Covid lockdown in the UK at that time. Such surreal times. I have lost a parent and gained two more grandsons since becoming sixty. I continue to work as a university professor and relish this interaction and new opportunities for learning. . But the seventies remain very dear to me as they were my teenage years when so much possibility was present in the everyday. I am paring down my life now, decluttering and wearing simpler clothes. But clothes still remain a driver in my everyday, much as in my seventies when I can recall so many outfits and shoes so clearly. The colours are less varied now but the clothes remain the structure around which my days begin and my identity is bound.
It’s good to see you putting your thoughts on paper again for us after an absence!
At 73 I feel myself spending more time navigating what I can do to improve some chronic health conditions. I think to myself, why does no one teach what you are going to experience when you get over 70. Will I get better, or is this the new norm? The 1970’s were a great time for me. After college I left my small PNW town and moved to Honolulu for 7 years. Everything was so carefree. I now find myself drawn again to wide leg jeans and loose fitting peasant blouses.
You make such a good point. We, in our 70's, 80's and 90's must share through the telling of our stories what our experience is so others may know as you wish to. How we meet the challenges and how we relish the days, all important.
I turned 70 five months ago. Since that day, my mind continues to open in new ways. It seeks out for smell, touch, sights. My love of gardening expanded from just pulling weeds and planting flowers to removing my gloves, taking the soil into my hand and really looking at it, trying to understand it, letting it fall between my fingers, watching as it returns to its home. On my early morning walks with my dog, I listen to the sounds around me, aware now of a cry of a distance bird, or one nearer, chirping in the tree. I feel the coolness of the air on my face, and I like it! My awareness of smell and touch as I prepare a meal. The garlic scent remains on my hands and it makes me smile.
I long for meaningful conversation in a way that hurts. I'm exhausted with the talk of politics and of those that insist on conjuring up the devil. I'm not putting my head in the sand. My eyes are open. I see what's happening and weep. I DO what I can...but I would rather read poety than be consumed with news of despair.
Like you, I have found the darkness. I awake very early most days, void of turning on the lights, I relish the calmness, the quiet, the peace, the nameless feeling of a day just beginning. The same with the nights.....sitting in the dark, watching the moon and stars. I have always loved the moon, but the feeling seems to be mutual now.
You speak of the unknown, the spiritual. I am a rationalist, but why do I have this new desire to purchase Tarot cards? Lol!! I look into people's eyes and I see something more now. The miracles of life seriously overwhelm me!
It is very curious isn't it, turning this platinum jubilee? It must be how the Christians feel when they speak of a rebirth. I am not crazy. They are not crazy. I was only just given a birthday gift of awareness and maybe a touch of knowledge on how miraculous this world really is....and in accepting this gift, seeing how miraculous I AM!
Thank you, Lyn. Your writing never fails to inspire me. You have set me off thinking about the scents, clothes and designs of the 70s.
I love the way you describe getting older - it is in complete opposition to general thinking. There is a lot to be said for acceptance and joy in every stage of life. Thank you x
I love this so much. I am in my 70s also and resonate with your writing. Thank you for this. I just planted a small Dwarf Ginkgo tree in my garden. I look forward to watching it grow.
I am about to turn 84 next month, and some days the 70's feels like yesterday. In 1974 is was newly divorced, with children of 10 and 4, beginning my actual first job as a psychologist and finishing my PhD. I had already had some really nice years as a wife and mother, my life appeared to be on a particular course and then it ended. I thought I would find love again but here I am alone. sometimes I think it is a blessing, no one to answer to, I can follow my own interests. My kids a now themselves settling into midlife, my two grandchildren embarking on their adult lives. I take comfort that I did a pretty good job. I have friends and interests. Still, I yearn for some deeper connection, particularly in these difficult times.
Am I the only one here starving for this type of connection with like-minded, articulate women? Openness, humility, kindness, wisdom. Thank you.
What a wonderful thing for you to say, it's exactly why I write this in my hope to meet those women!
No, you are definitely not the only one 😊
You're not alone. So much is missing in the world now. This matters.There's so much anxiety and fear now. This is calming and lovely. I need this.
YOU are certainly not the only woman craving this connection, this like-mindedness.
I love this so much!
At nearly 83, I now barely remember my 70s. I've been working nonstop, except for 1978 to 1986, when I was deeply involved in a spiritual community in India and Oregon. My fourth husband of 38 years and I have owned a small fitness studio for over 20 years, and still run it. Just yesterday, I finally hired a Bookkeeper as it felt quite unfulfilling to continue doing it all.. Recently, I have noticed a strong desire to simplify my life and finally live in a quieter way. The stress of our current political situation has prompted me to slow down, find my joy as a form of resistance, start the process of decluttering, and spend more time with supportive and loving friends. I've been told for many years I should write a book about my life, so I'm beginning the process by writing on Substack. At times, I feel shaky as some of my physical limitations are worsening, but I forge ahead knowing my time here is limited. I am grateful to be alive and contributing.
I love that life for you. Finding joy as resistance, a strategy many of us are choosing in response to this moment. I look forward to reading your Substack.
Thank you, Lyn. I do enjoy writing it…most of the time ;-)
Halfway through 74 it's poignancy that hits me, hard, in every way. Nothing anymore feels pedestrian, an ordinary experience, but rather like a coda, reflectively rich and remarkable. I feel vividly present. Thanks for this essay. xo
Such a perfect description, thank you.
I was bothered by turning 60. It seemed so old, such a big number, but then that turned out to be the year that I was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. Thankfully, while it isn't curable, it's treatable and fairly stable at the moment. It definitely changed my perspective on aging though. I threw myself a "still alive at 65" party when I reached that milestone. Now I'm surprised to find myself 72 and still living an active and productive life! I've learned a lot about living in the moment and I don't spend much time musing about what was or what could have been.
Congratulations on what seems to be a pretty robust recovery. Thanks for sharing your lessons learned.
Yes, high school 1970 - 1973. Mescaline before even my first cigarette. concerts at Fillmore West. Hitchhiking to Santa Cruz. Sometimes I am in awe that I am still alive.
And yet I feel so alive! I went from corporate life to making art, walking 3+ miles a day, traveling. I still Dress with a capital “D”. If it weren’t for the state of our country and our world at large, life would be pretty perfect.
I identify with the risks we took back then and in retrospect have the same sense of amazement I survived it alive.
yes!!!!! 1000%
The 70’s….I went from 4 to 14. My parents were young, 21 and 23 and these were the years that they became grown ups I guess. I was their only kid until 1970 and I was very observant at a young age about what was important to them. My dad passed 7/23 and my mom 2/24. While I was driving last spring, Bridge Over Troubled Water came on and I had to pull over and sob for so long. I called my younger sister and said “I have never gotten over their divorce in 1979 and now they’re gone…and they would be crushed that their country is where it’s at today. I think they “got in and out” lol during pretty good and hopeful times…so I’m still here and it’s like I bear their grief too. It’s strangely ok because I so solidly carry their humanity and progressive thinking….it’s beautifully painful I guess….
Thank you for writing 🙏🏻
Thank you for writing, I am incredibly moved by your words.
Wow! So much there. I, too am in my 70's and most recently re-friended that person I was in the 70's but wiser and more comfortable in my skin. So much of what you wrote is so familiar, from patchouli to the long hair to color orange (that color bring a recent discovery). My sartorial taste back in the day was hand made clothing from Indian print bedspreads purchased in head shops, work boots (winter) and leather sandals (summer). I open my chock full closets today and contrast that to when my entire wardrobe would fit in a small suitcase. I love this period of my life, still full of hope and curiosity. Thank you and cheers to rest of us!
OMG did I just write this? Patchouli oils, incense, Indian bedspreads made into dresses, bells on my shoes, beads, head shops....... Bob Dylan, Peter Paul and Mary, guitar strumming, hours in the sun/outside. I was there, too
The suitcase metaphor is a great one reflecting how much things have changed when it comes to how we consume. It's taken me four years to pare down the clothes I own into two racks and a bureau. I love re-friending the person we were in the 70's except wiser and more comfortable with who we are.
I relate to so much of this as I enter my 70s also, although for me, I never stopped searching for mystical experiences and always followed my heart even when it led me on the scenic route instead of a destination. But especially when you write about not wanting to write an ESSAY. I want to keep writing but no longer with expectations, only because writing itself feels satisfying to me. The 70s came with an inner knowing even in the midst of this chaotic world and I feel very protective of my inner musing and wandering and lingering. I love the midnight garden you describe.
"Writing itself feels satisfying to me" Gets to the heart of it all.
Wonderful, insightful writing as ever, Lyn. I am now 64 but have experienced a crossing from one place to another since entering this decade in the middle of Covid lockdown in the UK at that time. Such surreal times. I have lost a parent and gained two more grandsons since becoming sixty. I continue to work as a university professor and relish this interaction and new opportunities for learning. . But the seventies remain very dear to me as they were my teenage years when so much possibility was present in the everyday. I am paring down my life now, decluttering and wearing simpler clothes. But clothes still remain a driver in my everyday, much as in my seventies when I can recall so many outfits and shoes so clearly. The colours are less varied now but the clothes remain the structure around which my days begin and my identity is bound.
Sending love to you both.
Clothes and identity are a powerful pair. My relationship to them has changed but they will always reflect my identity in any given period of life.
It’s good to see you putting your thoughts on paper again for us after an absence!
At 73 I feel myself spending more time navigating what I can do to improve some chronic health conditions. I think to myself, why does no one teach what you are going to experience when you get over 70. Will I get better, or is this the new norm? The 1970’s were a great time for me. After college I left my small PNW town and moved to Honolulu for 7 years. Everything was so carefree. I now find myself drawn again to wide leg jeans and loose fitting peasant blouses.
You make such a good point. We, in our 70's, 80's and 90's must share through the telling of our stories what our experience is so others may know as you wish to. How we meet the challenges and how we relish the days, all important.
I turned 70 five months ago. Since that day, my mind continues to open in new ways. It seeks out for smell, touch, sights. My love of gardening expanded from just pulling weeds and planting flowers to removing my gloves, taking the soil into my hand and really looking at it, trying to understand it, letting it fall between my fingers, watching as it returns to its home. On my early morning walks with my dog, I listen to the sounds around me, aware now of a cry of a distance bird, or one nearer, chirping in the tree. I feel the coolness of the air on my face, and I like it! My awareness of smell and touch as I prepare a meal. The garlic scent remains on my hands and it makes me smile.
I long for meaningful conversation in a way that hurts. I'm exhausted with the talk of politics and of those that insist on conjuring up the devil. I'm not putting my head in the sand. My eyes are open. I see what's happening and weep. I DO what I can...but I would rather read poety than be consumed with news of despair.
Like you, I have found the darkness. I awake very early most days, void of turning on the lights, I relish the calmness, the quiet, the peace, the nameless feeling of a day just beginning. The same with the nights.....sitting in the dark, watching the moon and stars. I have always loved the moon, but the feeling seems to be mutual now.
You speak of the unknown, the spiritual. I am a rationalist, but why do I have this new desire to purchase Tarot cards? Lol!! I look into people's eyes and I see something more now. The miracles of life seriously overwhelm me!
It is very curious isn't it, turning this platinum jubilee? It must be how the Christians feel when they speak of a rebirth. I am not crazy. They are not crazy. I was only just given a birthday gift of awareness and maybe a touch of knowledge on how miraculous this world really is....and in accepting this gift, seeing how miraculous I AM!
This is pure poetry!
Thank you, Lyn. Your writing never fails to inspire me. You have set me off thinking about the scents, clothes and designs of the 70s.
I love the way you describe getting older - it is in complete opposition to general thinking. There is a lot to be said for acceptance and joy in every stage of life. Thank you x
This hit me where I live at 72. Wow. Need to process. More to follow. Thank you Lyn.
"This writing space is my 'midnight garden'. A creative, fragrant, and replenishing retreat." Beautiful, Lyn. Thank you for always sharing.
I love this so much. I am in my 70s also and resonate with your writing. Thank you for this. I just planted a small Dwarf Ginkgo tree in my garden. I look forward to watching it grow.
I am about to turn 84 next month, and some days the 70's feels like yesterday. In 1974 is was newly divorced, with children of 10 and 4, beginning my actual first job as a psychologist and finishing my PhD. I had already had some really nice years as a wife and mother, my life appeared to be on a particular course and then it ended. I thought I would find love again but here I am alone. sometimes I think it is a blessing, no one to answer to, I can follow my own interests. My kids a now themselves settling into midlife, my two grandchildren embarking on their adult lives. I take comfort that I did a pretty good job. I have friends and interests. Still, I yearn for some deeper connection, particularly in these difficult times.
Sounds like you did a very good job! I understand the yearning don't give up on it.