The Homecoming
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
We have come to the end of the generational cycles and the final chapter of this book. In all of the great stories, this is the time when the hero or heroine returns home. Like Odysseus finally reaching Ithaca, we come back to where we started; nothing has changed, yet we are different or hopefully more ourselves, “wealthy with all that you have gained on the way,” as the Greek poet Constantine P. Cavafy wrote in his famous poem, “Ithaka.”
I'm looking forward to eighty.
—Oliver Sacks
At age eighty, we are beyond the cycle of eldering, although the process continues as long as we are alive. Now we enter the territory of old age, and it seems fitting that we are greeted once again by our old friend Saturn. Where Saturn goes, reality follows.
Once again, we are confronted with new limitations, constraints, and boundaries. Once again, we must take an accounting of our life and our circumstances. During earlier Saturn transits, there were restrictions but also new endeavors, even adventures. At eighty, we're not necessarily working toward a higher degree, beginning a new career, or raising a family. Some arrangements and activities and events that we had depended on may end or change. Many people at eighty can—or should—no longer drive, and that impacts their living situation dramatically.
Old friends die, and there are fewer opportunities to establish new relationships or interests, though this is certainly not impossible. One of the benefits of relocating to a retirement community or assisted living facility is the support system and interaction it offers. Once again, these are Saturn issues and require Saturn skills.
When my friend Sharon's mother was in her eighties, she failed her driving test. That was a big part of her decision to move to an assisted living community in Florida. Although she had reservations about such a community, the move proved to be a happy surprise. When I spoke to Sharon, she told me that the place was comfortable, the people were terrific, and her mother was thriving. She was even looking forward to visiting her mother in her lovely new home.
Judy's father, Hersh, had open heart surgery when he was eighty-five. At ninety, he had a pacemaker put in. Unfortunately, at the same time, his landlord was selling the building where he had lived for almost thirty years, and he had to give up his apartment. The good news is that he found a place across the street that was much nicer. The only problem was that Hersh is a scholar, and he had 125 boxes of books! Family and friends pitched in to help give most of the books away. As Judy told him, “You have all the knowledge inside you. Now you're ready for some new stories.”
At each of the Uranus cycles—at 21 and 42 and 63 and 84—we get a new chance to answer the voice within us that calls for more unique individuality. Even at 84, when Uranus returns to its birth position, there's a part of us that opens up to ways of seeing things differently. Personal epiphanies abound at age 84 and people often notice a renewed sense of well-being and a feeling like a “breath of fresh air has come into their lives.” Some people, such as Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell “completed” their lives at this time.
—Elizabeth Spring, astrologer and author, The Saturn Returns
Around the age of eighty-four, freedom-loving Uranus returns to its natal position. At this time, it has completed its journey around the chart and interacted with every single planet, awakening, arousing, stimulating, and hopefully transforming our consciousness and that area of the chart where the planet is located. We have come full circle; there is nothing left to prove. As Carl Jung might say, we have become fully individualized. This is a culmination of a life well lived and, simultaneously, a new beginning.
The word “retrospective” (retro means back, and spect means to see) implies contemplation of the past, a survey of previous times and events. If one has been living consciously, this can be the harvest of a fully realized life; a time of refining and distilling the essence of one's existence and bringing it into some kind of form. It's a time for consolidating one's opus and leaving a legacy. It is no coincidence that many artists, writers, philosophers, and great thinkers have published their memoirs, had major exhibits, or did their best work at this age.
Chita Rivera, aged eighty-three, was honored at the 2016 Kennedy Center Awards, as was Cecily Tyson, then ninety-one. This was not the culmination of their careers. Both women continue to be active with starring roles on TV. Cecily Tyson starred on Broadway in 2016.
Did their creativity contribute to their longevity? It's well documented that conductors, musicians, and artists often live long lives. Among the long-lived are:
Perhaps what kept these artistic titans going is that they had a passion in their lives and a fervent need to create and contribute. Plus, artists rarely “retire.” Confined to a wheelchair after an accident, Italian film director Bernardo Bertolucci thought his film-making days were over. But he accepted his situation and continued to direct—from his wheelchair. His last film, Me and You, was released in 2012, when he was seventy-two.
In his later years, the artist Pierre-Auguste Renoir could no longer walk, and his fingers were stiff, but he continued to paint by attaching a paintbrush to his hand. These great individuals are inspiring because they remind us of what is possible in our own later years. Even if we're not prominent people with public roles, we can still flourish; it's just going to look different. We all have a life and a legacy that needs expressing and that can take many forms besides painting the Sistine Chapel or, like Verdi, composing Falstaff at eighty.
The universe is made of stories, not of atoms.
In older times, the elders in the tribe passed on their wisdom through an oral tradition. It was their task to educate the clan through stories, music, and ceremonies. In a sense, that tradition is being revived today through the Internet. We live in a digital age, in which you can use your iPhone as a video camera to record a friend's or relative's stories or have them record yours. Self-publishing makes it easy to bring one's story into the world.
Blogging is accessible. This is living history that needs to be preserved. In addition to providing priceless information for one's family, it's also empowering for the person telling the story.
This process of harvesting one's life; surveying the past, gathering one's experiences together in a kind of narrative, brings a sense of completion. Because there are fewer expectations and less ego involved, there is also less pressure. It is a powerful exercise and a deeply satisfying process. One of the gifts of Uranus is the freedom to reclaim parts of ourselves, and this “harvesting” can help bring that about. By the way, Uranus also rules technology.
Having a retrospective or writing your memoir sounds wonderful, but at this age we know it's not the whole story. The planet Uranus is a wild card; it disturbs the status quo and shakes things up.
However, the conjunction we experience at age eighty-four is the most powerful aspect. We are no longer in our forties or even sixties. What happens now? Having come full circle, we are beyond the cycle of ambition—the ego's job is done. We may have work we love, but at this point in our lives, that desire arises from an inner need and not an outer demand. Having reached this point, there can be a feeling, not of disinterest but a rich detachment.
When Uranus is present, change is never far away, and a move is not uncommon at this age—either to a retirement home somewhere with a warmer climate, or into some kind of living situation with relatives. Independence is important at any age and never more so than when we reach our eighties. Having freedom and choices is essential to our well-being. The aging population is enormous, and thanks to the baby boomers, it's getting bigger, which means there will be new and better solutions.
For instance, “aging in place” enables seniors over sixty-five to live in their own home and community safely, independently, and comfortably, regardless of age, income, or ability. Granny Pods are tiny guest houses with medical extras; the little buildings can be installed in the backyard. There are currently twenty-three million Americans who are taking care of their elderly parents; Granny Pods offer autonomy for both the caregiver and the senior.
In Paris, there is Babayaga's House, a feminist alternative to an old-age home that began in 2013. One quarter of the seventeen million people in France are over the age of sixty; by 2050, that will be one third.
And in Helsinki, where rents are high, a nursing home offers inexpensive studios to Millennials. The young people get reduced rents; the elderly residents have an opportunity to mix with an age group they rarely have contact with. The program has been a huge success. In the Netherlands, a retirement home offers rent-free housing to university students who agree to volunteer thirty hours per month. These are exciting programs, and hopefully they'll become a trend.
New York magazine's 2014 cover story about old age in the Big Apple made an excellent case for retiring in New York City, assuming one has an affordable apartment. You don't need a car, which is a big plus, as the transit system is excellent; and you have all the cultural accouterments, such as museums, theaters, and movies that offer senior discounts. Plus, colleges like Fordham and Columbia have special senior classes. It's better than Boca!
Many people at this age become true eccentrics. Let's face it, the older we get, hopefully the less self-conscious we are about speaking up and being ourselves. If you've always played by the rules (especially if you've played by the rules), you may become more outspoken and have fewer filters and more truth. It's often said that “age is the great liberator,” and this is a time when you may be ready to become a delightfully unconventional older person.
The Old English word wyrd means “destiny.” This late Middle English adjective originally meant “having the power to control destiny.” It famously describes the Weird Sisters; originally, this referred to the Fates and later to the witches in Shakespeare's play Macbeth.
In his book Fate and Destiny, Michael Meade wrote about how important it is for true elders to be weird. “Elders are supposed to be weird, not simply ‘weirdos,’ but strange and unusual in a meaningful way.” If you are seeking an elder, he suggests, look for someone who is “weird enough to become wise.”
Howard Sasportas wrote in The Gods of Change,
Neptune opposing its own place does not have to leave us confused, bitter and full of regrets. Through the kind of introspection and soul-searching transiting. Neptune invokes at this time, we are capable of achieving not only a healthier level of self-esteem, but also a greater respect for that higher ordering principal, both mysterious and wise, which guides and oversees all our lives.31
Neptune, which we encountered in the midlife chapter, is the planet of the invisible world. It is the Poseidon, the Greek god of the sea, and rules all that is beneath our conscious awareness. Neptune is pure consciousness. Its domain is water; it is elusive, porous, and mystical.
When we reach this age, Neptune can bring a longing for a connection with the Divine or, if that already exists, a deepening of that relationship. There can be a greater respect for the sacred and for that which guides and governs our lives. It's what author, poet, and philosopher John O'Donohue calls “coming home to our deeper nature.”
Neptune is associated with compassion, and this transit can bring more empathy. As our lives become simpler and our responsibilities in the world lessen, we have more time to reflect and contemplate. Neptune reminds us that it's not a failure to slow down; embracing our age and our abilities frees us to find new and gentler ways to be in the world. Neptune's gift at this time is that it allows us to open, soften, and receive.
Neptune is also associated with sacrifice. Neptune works by dissolving and washing things away, so this transit can also coincide with a time of fading memory and physical weakness. Neptune doesn't cause these things, but it does bring them to the surface. The loss of short-term memory and a propensity to forget names can increase during this period. It is natural for the brain to go through a cyclical pruning process. We have to be careful and not assume this is a given.
Author and physician Oliver Sacks wrote an essay entitled “My Own Life” that was published in the New York Times op-ed section on February 19, 2015, six months before his death.32 His cancer had spread, and he knew his time was limited. Transiting Neptune was exactly opposite his natal Neptune, and the tone of his essay expresses the humanity and benevolence of this planet.
I love how honest and open he is about his illness and his fear but his “predominant feeling” is gratitude. He feels lucky that he has had the privilege to live past eighty, publish books, travel, and experience love. He writes that he feels “intensely alive” and wants to spend what time he has left deepening his friendships, writing, and perhaps even having fun. He lived a rich, meaningful, and conscious life right up to the end.
At midlife, in our early forties, we experienced both the edgy intensity of high-voltage Uranus and the dissolving effect of watery Neptune, and we've seen how confusing but also how fruitful a time that is. Once again, these two great gods are in our lives, but now we're older and less robust.
Uranus is lightning; Neptune is fog. Uranus is sudden; Neptune slow. Yet this collaboration can bring about a genuine exploration of meaning along with a desire to bring all the pieces of our life together. The result can be real wisdom, the gift of Jupiter at this seventh Return. One of the things available to us no matter what our circumstances or health is the exploration of what genuine wisdom is to each of us. The adventure of going deeper, experiencing the fullness of our life, and integrating as much as humanly possible. At midlife, we began to ask the big questions. Perhaps now we have some of the answers.
You're Only Old Once!
—Dr. Seuss, the title of his book published on his eighty-second birthday
When I'm searching for inspiration on weighty subjects, such as life, death, and old age, I often turn to John O'Donohue and his book Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom. The Celtic perspective includes the physical plane as well as the eternal. It contains great fluidity and poetry and a deep reverence for the unknown, the unfamiliar, and the mysterious. In Anam Cara, O'Donohue has written with great tenderness about the aging process.
Old age can be a wonderful time to develop the art of inner harvesting. . . . The beauty and invitation of old age offer a time of silence and solitude for a visit to the house of your inner memory.33
When exactly is old age? Today young people seem older and wiser and older people are more youthful. More and more, our role models in their eighties are vigorous and active, still working, still thriving. And while it's important to keep it real, it's also important to remember what's possible.
Astrologer Shirley Soffer sees clients most days, publishes articles, lectures, and conducts her regular Wednesday night class. She told me recently that since turning eighty, she has become more self-assured, caring less about what others think and relying more on her intuition and experience.
What Works: I believe the older we get, the lighter we need to travel. We need to let go of the material stuff that weighs us down but also the regrets, grudges, and negativity that is so damaging. If we haven't already done so, it's time to make peace with the past, with others, and with ourselves. Don't let your past determine your present.
It is necessary to be honest and acknowledge the challenges that aging brings, but it is also necessary to recognize and respect ourselves for dealing with those challenges. In his book, Aging Well, George E. Vaillant, MD (who was the director of the Harvard Study of Adult Development for thirty years), writes that “it is all right to be ill as long as you don't feel sick.” This is a powerful statement, because it separates two things we believe to be inseparable.
What makes the difference? Having community, close friends, and interests that excite and engage us are all essential. So is laughter. Feeling good, being happy—maybe not 100 percent of the time but some of the time—not only benefits us on so many levels, but it is also the finest gift we can give the next generation.
In his chapter on Positive Aging, Vaillant refers to the AA watchwords, such as “Let go and let God,” “First things first,” and “Keep it simple.” These familiar refrains are important at any age but essential as we move into old age.
Death is absolutely safe. Nobody ever fails it.
—Ram Dass
At the Second Saturn Return, death enters the conversation; but at eighty, death dominates the conversation. There's nowhere else to put it; it's right there against you, and you can feel its breath on your skin. You cannot turn away. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. Having a better relationship with death takes away some of the fear and dread.
In many cultures, death is an integral part of life. The Irish are traditionally very hospitable to death. There is great support from the neighbors and the community and, of course, the Irish tradition of the wake. In Mexico, they celebrate the Day of the Dead. Our own Halloween has its roots in a Celtic festival of the dead. In New Orleans, they have the jazz funeral, a boisterous musical procession that combines West African, French, and African American traditions.
In our modern culture, death has been relegated to the very end of life, the outer edge of consciousness, so not to interfere with our busy lives. But whenever we push something out of awareness, we give it a negative power and disconnect from its real potential, then find an artificial or distorted way to replace it. Perhaps that's why we have so many violent movies and video games and our obsession with vampires and zombies.
I believe this is changing. The aging population combined with the concern for the environment, a commitment to the end of life, and the rapid growth of the hospice movement has created the perfect storm for this transition in how we view the death. The interest in Death Cafés, where people meet to discuss the end of life, is making a real difference. Green funerals that have a minimal environmental impact are becoming more popular, and there are improvements in hospice care.
The February 22, 2016, Time magazine's Longevity Issue posed the question: Why are old people less scared of dying? “You'd think people would get more anxious as they age,” says Thomas Pyszcynski, professor at the University of Colorado. “But if you look at the research, older people have less anxiety and sadness and more overall satisfaction.” Being closer to the end of life changes one's perspective. So does letting go of attachments.
Age puzzles me. I thought it was a quiet time. My seventies were interesting and fairly serene, but my eighties are passionate. I grow more intense as I age.
—Florida Scott-Maxwell
It's happening everywhere, in retirement communities, on cruises, in coffee shops, and especially online; in fact, the over-sixty crowd is the fastest growing group. Eve Pell was sixty-eight when she met Sam Hirabayshi, seventy-eight, who was in her running club. They fell in love and got married.
Eve wrote her story for the New York Times “Modern Love” column. The amount of response to her story caused Eve realize that there were lots of people her age falling in love. Love, Again is her book about her own late-in-life romance, as well as the experiences of many others.
Evelyn De Wolfe was born and raised in Brazil. She left when she was twenty-one and set off to travel the world. Along the way, she became an author and a journalist, ultimately settling in southern California. For forty years, she worked for the Los Angeles Times.
She had been widowed for fourteen years, had grown children, grandchildren, and a full life. She was in good health and living contentedly in Hollywood, California. “What better place to be at eighty-two,” she wrote, in her book Five Honeymoons: A True Love Story.
Then something unexpected happened. She received a mysterious envelope in the mail from her childhood sweetheart, and life suddenly took an astonishing turn. Juan had been her first real crush at age thirteen. She hadn't seen or heard from him for over sixty-five years. Like her, he was in his eighties, also with grown children, but he had remained in Brazil. An old friend had put them in touch, and Evelyn and Juan began emailing.
It wasn't long before they fell in love and began a passionate affair. But that isn't the most amazing part of the story; it's the form their affair took that makes it unique. Every year for five years they met in a different romantic location: a farm tucked away in the rain forest, Santa Barbara, Mexico, Hollywood, and Rio de Janeiro. Five Honeymoons is the story of their love affair and the precious moments spent together.
If you're eighty-five and still working, you become interesting.
—Betty Halbreich
Betty Halbreich is the preeminent personal shopper at New York City's upscale Bergdorf Goodman department store, where she dresses the rich and powerful, celebrities and ordinary people alike and consults on movies and television shows like Sex and the City. Her style is legendary and so is her brassy, no-nonsense attitude. She has become a celebrity herself.
I relished her memoir, I'll Drink to That, about growing up in a wealthy Jewish family in Chicago, living a sheltered life, then getting married and coming to New York. She didn't work until the 1960s; in fact, she got her first job at her midlife, around age forty. Her only credentials were her superb style, which was the best possible calling card. She landed at Bergdorf and has been there ever since. “I work five days a week, from 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. It means I don't have to stay home. It gives me a destination and a voice.”
Rebecca Latimer wrote a delightful book called You're Not Old Until You're Ninety. Married to a diplomat, Rebecca has lived all over the world, but she didn't really wake up until she was sixty. According to her, she was loaded with fears and inhibitions. It wasn't until she and her husband moved to a small redwood house in New Hampshire that she began to “listen to the small voice inside me.” She not only listened, she studied, learned, mediated, and she transformed. She recorded her personal journey in her book, which was published when she was ninety-two. Rebecca Latimer is the embodiment of conscious aging.
Norman Lear, perhaps the greatest comedy producer of all time, is hard at work trying to get a new television show off the ground. It's entitled Guess Who Died?—and is a show about the elderly. Lear is ninety-four. In a recent documentary about him and the show, he said, “Often I get undressed, look at myself nude—dissatisfied but amused—and I sing and dance in front of a full length mirror. And I have wondered for a great many years, how do we know that that's not the secret to longevity?”
Diana Vreeland, the famous editor and fashion doyenne, is someone else who stayed vital and relevant up until the end of her life. Many years ago, I read an interview with her. In it, she was asked what she thought of punk rock. “I like punk; it has energy!” she exclaimed. That got my attention, especially since she was in her eighties, and I was in my thirties!
I disliked punk back then. I hadn't explored it at all, I'm ashamed to say; it was pure prejudice on my part. After reading that interview, I thought to myself, if she can find something positive in it, then so can I. We don't have to love or embrace everything, but we owe it to ourselves to at least be willing to explore it, taste it, and try it before we form an opinion.
The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structures of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity.
Keep learning, listening, living fully, and loving deeply. Keep an open mind and an open heart. Trust your process. Don't be afraid to be who you are. Celebrate yourself, your life, and your age. Above all, be grateful—no matter what is going on.
The only question left to ask is, “Did you become yourself?” Did you grow, evolve, explore, and experiment? Did you learn something? Success can take many forms—a wonderful marriage or partnership, raising a family, creating close friendships, finding your calling, healing, being of service, making a contribution. You don't have to have a big life to be a big person. You have only to be yourself—fully, deeply, passionately.
And if you still haven't? Begin now. As long as you are alive and you have a desire to do something or learn something, it's still possible. That's the beauty of life; at any moment, we can wake up, transform, and start over. It's never, ever too late.
31Howard Sasportas, The Gods of Change: Pain, Transits and the Transits of Uranus, Neptune and Pluto (London: Penguin Group, 1989), p. 143.
32Oliver Sacks, “My Own Life,” New York Times (Feb. 19, 2015).
33John O'Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom (New York: HarperCollins, 1997), pp. 173, 181.