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Acceptance or Rage!

“Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm.” 

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

Divorced for a handful of years now, most people I hang out with socially are of a similar age and situation, so I think I have a good feel for this.

Similar situation, but mostly not as recent as mine. Some go back decades. The common factor is that at some stage something really important went sideways. A relationship with someone or something (maybe sport and a knee went sideways…).

Typically they don’t want to talk about it.

The thing is something they regarded as a pinnacle – the love of their life or their best chance at reaching the top. The thing that takes the most effort, and in failure causes the most pain.

Get back on the horse, get back in the bike – we know this, we’ve known this since childhood. And it is solid advice, because the alternative is to give up, an attitude that is mostly not appropriate.

Unless you are old.

I am defining old as when you give up. When your response is acceptance and not Rage!

These guys aren’t old, because they are now the oldest artists to have a #1 record (in Germany). This is not acceptance of the pandemic:

Old is an accumulation of experiences where rage or enthusiasm didn’t work. At some point you quit banging your head on the door.

It has been called the human condition, as if life is something you suffer.

Perhaps we all live somewhere on a rage-acceptance-suffering spectrum?

I mean rage in the gentlest of ways, I mean not accepting. Antonyms of acceptance are harsh – denial, refusal, rejection, repulse. None describe the rebellion of youths, which to me is more like all this is fine but I would rather do my own thing. Not harsh at all.

Acceptance is the peace offered by religion.

Acceptance is mellow.

Acceptance is the end of the journey.

Acceptance is reaching the summit of a mountain and being allowed to stay there, no need to descend, or even consider other mountains.

Acceptance is 99% of people who move into aged care.

Suffering is needing painkillers and taking them.

What bothers me is people getting old early. I wish I knew who or what to blame. Middle-aged people who have given up, halfway through the gift of life. People who otherwise had potential and verve. Like they have been unplugged.

Friends and acquaintances who simply shrug.

I get the reasons – love of your life left you, business venture failed, knee went sideways – just not the response. How would you feel if your team was down 40-5 at half-time and they went home?

It could be hormones I guess. Just like menopause, maybe we change chemically…

I love it when someone older than me raises their voice. I love seeing old people dancing to punk rock (as rare as they are). I love it when famous elders state their opinions in public.

Giving up is easy. As we get older, we get battle weary. Our defences broken, our strength sapped. We have seen this numerous times in movies. The hero is battling the evil enemy. He (or she) has been through so much, and the enemy has worn them down, and they are prone and about to be riven… then they find some heroic inner strength, grab the conveniently laying there nasty object and drive it home.

Heroes don’t know old. They keep raging.

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