Carol Orsborn: Older, Wiser, Sassier

Dispatch from the Land of Old Souls

I know we are trained to think of serenity as the goal of spirituality, but the notion of floating gently through the calm waters of old age has never held all that much appeal to me. Rather, I prefer the notion of living life to the full to the last—no fading away for me. I intend to go out arms outstretched making some kind of a scene.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to relive let alone embellish any of the earlier dramas in my life that tied my stomach in knots and throttled my anxiety into overdrive. So much of it now seems unnecessary, but at the time—given my understanding about most things—unavoidable. But we learn over time: what really matters, why to walk away from impossible situations, what it means to speak your mind and how to take leaps of faith into a more authentic, if less popular, way of being.

This alternative way that I have rediscovered late in life is one that allows you to know you’re alive the way you always suspected you really were meant to be: your heart beating strongly in your chest where it belongs, rather than panting on the floor in fear, shame or exhaustion.

I have been in rebellion against the notion of aging gracefully for 15 plus years now—from ages 60 to 76. At 60, I labeled this vital thirst for life as “fierce”, as in the title of that year’s memoir Older, Wiser, Fiercer. (The book the Spiritual Aging Study and Support Group aka SASS is now working through together at my Substack.) In a society that favors serene old age as the definition of success, it takes a certain degree of fierceness to wake us up out of the old soporific stereotypes that contribute to the invisibility, muting and marginalization of old people. The word “fierce” still works for me when I need that extra shot of Adrenalyn to remind myself that this is my life and I want to be awake for it.

But lately, I’ve been realizing that whatever edginess I needed to help me get from aging to old has gradually been replaced by a quality that I could not quite name but liked a whole lot. I no longer needed even a hint of intensity to own what I now have at 76: the confidence to live authentically beyond the judgment of others. I have grown into someone who isn’t afraid to speak my mind, to take the risk of living boldly, to inhabit the world in a spirit of feisty irreverence that is neither serene nor fierce.

But the word for this eluded me until I caught it staring me in the face. It was none other than the acronym for the Spiritual Aging Study and Support group: SASS.

When my pen circled the four first letters that turned out to comprise the word Sass, a shiver went down my spine. I resonated immediately because I had lived so many of my early years scolded in its name. First there was my mother and a succession of teachers hissing: “Don’t give me any more of your sass.” In adolescence, I stood accused, in the name of sass, of “having an attitude.” It wasn’t until I needed to earn a living, and because God has a sense of humor, I chose public relations, that I lost my sass, buried deeply beneath the layered masks of “maturity”, “responsibility” and “professionalism.”.

But that was fifty years ago. And these last ten in particular, those happy years beyond retirement, have seen my masks crumble, my filters dissipate and my sassy attitude roll back in with the force of the midnight tide. It takes some getting used to—rediscovering my inner sass. But boy, does it feel good.

To be perfectly honest, most definitions of sass favor its negative connotations, using words like rude and disrespectful. But when it comes to this business of questioning the norms related to spiritual aging, what’s new? As it turns out, upon second glance, even the harsher definitions have nuances that warm my heart: Merriam-Webster: “Impertinence especially when considered playful, appealing or courageous…an appealingly exciting, lively, or spirited quality.”

Now that’s what I’m talking about. Not the sleep-walking marginalization of serenity; not the intensity of fierceness but something at once very old and brand new: just me doing me. This is a big shift from “Don’t give me any more of your sass” to “Yes I’m sassy. And you’re welcome.”

So greetings from the land of old souls, dear friends. And my fondest wish for you:  May we grow not only old but sassy together.

Until next time…

Back to you Monday with the next monthly installment of the Old Souls Study Guide. This month’s topic: Going Wild. Subscribe above to get it in your inbox.