But this IS bold of you, Debbie. Really honest. I hope being more open about how you've been feeling (third person, first person, whatever works!) it will help you recalibrate.
I feel more like myself since starting writing on Substack, because I'd been "quiet" for so long beforehand. I'd tapped into the "admin" side of my brain for so long (out of necessity, but also because I hadn't found the "nudge" I needed), that I'd lost sight of the creative side.
I feel reconnected with my younger self now, who wrote and very much wanted to write. And now I have so much more to look back on.
There's the dilemma of how much to share, of course. And whose story you're telling. How much of it is your own, how much other people's. But I'm enjoying grappling with that.
Wendy, I grapple with this: "How much of it (the story) is your own, how much other people's"? I especially enjoy doing Q&A's with (other) [b]old women. My hope is that the combination adds up to a clearer and more honest picture of [b]old age.
I trust you now, Debbie. You don’t have to “get back to” any former persona to keep this reader with you. I too have a history of depression and a tendency toward melancholy. When the news is grim, as it so often is these days, I flounder. I remind myself that life is not a march of progress. In times of despair, I hold fast to the memory of joy and trust in its return. It’s not easy but it helps. I am writing about this now. Hold on, Debbie. I’m here to share my driftwood.
Authenticity is a huge challenge on a platform such as this. As you pointed out, we are really selling a “persona” to connect with many readers. If your bold persona is sad it might feel like you have to hide the emotion, but two things can be true. We are resilient and ever-shifting like the tides on your beloved Deer Isle. Write what you feel deeply and the reader will be with you.
Been writing for so long it’s hard to decipher whether I was depressed or on top of the world. I’m 85. Have far too many projects to finish before I die. The best lesson I learned is not to take myself seriously. Laughing at myself and my antics brings me great joy. Keep on writing. Try not to think about what readers’ reactions might be be. Get back up to bat and keep on trying to hit one outta the park. Also… take naps.
Energy works for me. Thank you for the message. Right now I’m not motivated to write. But it’s the only thing I know how to do - so we’ll just cover the bowl, put in a warm place to rise. When it’s risen I’ll be motivated and I’ll start scribbling madly till it’s done. Watching a documentary about Leonard Cohen. Stirring work. Don’t you think?
Bold with age also means being okay with vulnerable. You nailed what I'm sure many of us who are aging are going through. I'm never on solid ground anymore at 66.7. And it sucks. My writing feels old and stale, like I do on many days. I tried getting out of my rut traveling to find a place to relocate. While I was busy running around life got super important to me. But now I'm back where I started (not) staring out to the island you're seeing (which I'm extremely envious of) but a backyard with a dried up pond and a few relentless squirrels who keep raiding my bird feeders. So now I don't have the birds to cheer me up as I blankly stare out into a green canopy of trees.
I found out recently there are several of me. And this only started around 62 years old. Prior, I knew exactly who I was, where I wanted to be, and what I'd do to change to evolve with aging. Everything is gone today as I flit between wants, needs, and even these change almost daily. Great post, nice work.
Yes to the sadness about the hummingbirds moving on. I love the question “ how was your summer?” Oddly I did all the things and went all the places I had planned but still have the letdown as fall approaches. It’s as if I have to write a report for school and feel it doesn’t measure up. I have an inner child I talk to. “You did plenty honey. It was fun to play with you!”
What an intriguing essay. I think a writer's voice is always going to be different than the voice of the person. If we make adjustments in presenting ourselves to different friends and family members, then how could we avoid adjusting ourselves when we write to the world?
I've begun experimenting with fiction again as it allows me to take on different voices so I can escape myself.
You may not have realized it when you hit publish but this is one of your boldest moves yet Debbie! I hope you can feel how we reach toward you in this biggest stretch yet. <3 Trust that there is a consistent voice even when you don't feel it. Your readers hear it. You can't escape your own writing voice it is unique as a thumbprint for each of us.
These are the connections and honesties we need. Thank you for modeling for us yet again. <3
Your challenge is real, but as my father used to say, " If it were easy, Cookie would do it." Cookie was our undefined mixed-breed rescue. When I get into my head too much, I find a way to disappear into a volunteer project, something that helps others and requires no brain power. Soup kitchen, hospital meals, etc., etc. ( No politics, causes, or clubs). Helping others who need some help brings me back to who I am and what I want to accomplish.
This works for me too, Doug. I had a lot of anxiety about school shootings, but I didn't want to spend my days digging into this issue on the political front. Instead I started this morning walking program (it's called Morning Mile) at my kids' school. It's not hard and only requires consistency. I've met parents I didn't know before and enjoy walking in the before school sun with them each weekday.
“To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet”, wrote TS Eliot. Even the most authentic among us do this from time to time. I can vacillate from patiently blasé competence to being washed in negativity, my faith in humanity run ragged, and an often overwhelmed by waves of “what’s the point?”
I am a person of faith, though, and it brings me back. But the trips sometimes are not pretty.
My first reaction to the word bold is to think of it as synonymous with brave. We are all approaching aging with declining health and losing people we love and it’s easy to want to put a brave face on these challenges. But what if bold really means simply being honest? And also vulnerable? Because that’s what I treasure most in my friends is the sense that I’m in relationship with a complicated, questioning spirit who doesn’t always know all the answers. And that’s one of the things Debbie that I treasure about you.
Please read May Sarton's The House by The Sea. Your photo took me right to it. It's a journal from a period in her 60s and she writes so wonderfully about writing, ageing, solitude, company, being down, and how the seasons change as you live by the sea. I hope it will nourish you.
I found my aunt Fiona's copy of it on a shelf in her house in Spain 20 years after she had died. A note inside it tells me that the book had travelled from New York in Fi's suitcase to Ixopo, South Africa as a gift for her mum - and later to Spain in another suitcase. It now lives on a bookshelf in Oxford.
Boy oh boy can I relate. I struggle all the time with feeling insecure, anxious, and worried about everything from my health to my "career" such as it is. I so appreciate your honest and authentic writing, which has struck a real nerve with me. Thank you!
I’ve been thinking lots lately about what and who I’m hiding when I write, and where and how showing up fully online doesn’t feel safe. My partner is so sick of this conversation! But I’m still floundering about, working it over and over, chewing the thing to bits. I do have an essay underway that speaks to it from one angle (though still without revealing too much). In these times, in many ways, it doesn’t feel safe to be fully honest (not that I outwardly lie, but I lie by omission).
Dana, this! "My partner is so sick of this conversation! But I’m still floundering about, working it over and over, chewing the thing to bits." Thank you.
This is beautifully written and most of us can relate, I think. I get these spells of shame that come out of nowhere and grab me in the core. Hang in there, my friend. Hope to see you soon!
This really resonates with me, Debbie. I've been writing about multiple selves within the self and how they all want to drive the bus (but some are not particularly good drivers, or not comfortable ones!). I love the way you are open about these other parts of you and also the power of recognizing aloud how others want us to be quiet about our struggles (so they aren't made uncomfortable). Brava for not being quiet, and for allowing for change and development and nuance!
I think you have nailed it here: "Maybe the point is that we, all of us, are multiple selves." I have to check in with myself often about which version of myself is going to show up in my posts. There are so many options! In this post, I hear you saying that you want your writing-self to be vulnerable as well as bold, and that it's not enough for you to show just one side of that prism. Very well. I recognize the truth of what you say, whether you want to show us only the bold part, or whether you want to take us into the fog with you, too. Both choices sound good to me -- especially with that lovely view out your window. There's no going wrong with that. 🥰
![[B]OLD AGE with Debbie Weil](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/e_trim:10:white/e_trim:10:transparent/h_72,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb939748d-5d80-4d0f-867c-2ed252ac633c_1344x256.png)
But this IS bold of you, Debbie. Really honest. I hope being more open about how you've been feeling (third person, first person, whatever works!) it will help you recalibrate.
I feel more like myself since starting writing on Substack, because I'd been "quiet" for so long beforehand. I'd tapped into the "admin" side of my brain for so long (out of necessity, but also because I hadn't found the "nudge" I needed), that I'd lost sight of the creative side.
I feel reconnected with my younger self now, who wrote and very much wanted to write. And now I have so much more to look back on.
There's the dilemma of how much to share, of course. And whose story you're telling. How much of it is your own, how much other people's. But I'm enjoying grappling with that.
Well done for being bold, Debbie!
Wendy, I grapple with this: "How much of it (the story) is your own, how much other people's"? I especially enjoy doing Q&A's with (other) [b]old women. My hope is that the combination adds up to a clearer and more honest picture of [b]old age.
I trust you now, Debbie. You don’t have to “get back to” any former persona to keep this reader with you. I too have a history of depression and a tendency toward melancholy. When the news is grim, as it so often is these days, I flounder. I remind myself that life is not a march of progress. In times of despair, I hold fast to the memory of joy and trust in its return. It’s not easy but it helps. I am writing about this now. Hold on, Debbie. I’m here to share my driftwood.
Thank you Rona! I so look forward to what you will publish. This is so important: “trusting” in the return of joy.
Beautiful.
Authenticity is a huge challenge on a platform such as this. As you pointed out, we are really selling a “persona” to connect with many readers. If your bold persona is sad it might feel like you have to hide the emotion, but two things can be true. We are resilient and ever-shifting like the tides on your beloved Deer Isle. Write what you feel deeply and the reader will be with you.
Catherine, that is the best advice: "Write what you feel deeply."
Been writing for so long it’s hard to decipher whether I was depressed or on top of the world. I’m 85. Have far too many projects to finish before I die. The best lesson I learned is not to take myself seriously. Laughing at myself and my antics brings me great joy. Keep on writing. Try not to think about what readers’ reactions might be be. Get back up to bat and keep on trying to hit one outta the park. Also… take naps.
ooo Suzanne, this is perfect advice: keep laughing, get back up to bat, hit one out of the park. I can feel your energy.
Energy works for me. Thank you for the message. Right now I’m not motivated to write. But it’s the only thing I know how to do - so we’ll just cover the bowl, put in a warm place to rise. When it’s risen I’ll be motivated and I’ll start scribbling madly till it’s done. Watching a documentary about Leonard Cohen. Stirring work. Don’t you think?
Bold with age also means being okay with vulnerable. You nailed what I'm sure many of us who are aging are going through. I'm never on solid ground anymore at 66.7. And it sucks. My writing feels old and stale, like I do on many days. I tried getting out of my rut traveling to find a place to relocate. While I was busy running around life got super important to me. But now I'm back where I started (not) staring out to the island you're seeing (which I'm extremely envious of) but a backyard with a dried up pond and a few relentless squirrels who keep raiding my bird feeders. So now I don't have the birds to cheer me up as I blankly stare out into a green canopy of trees.
I found out recently there are several of me. And this only started around 62 years old. Prior, I knew exactly who I was, where I wanted to be, and what I'd do to change to evolve with aging. Everything is gone today as I flit between wants, needs, and even these change almost daily. Great post, nice work.
Patti, you’ve described my thoughts on a very low day. Thank you for sharing. Not gonna give advice, but keep taking small steps. Thinking of you!
Thank you Debbie. I’m thinking of you too.
Yes to the sadness about the hummingbirds moving on. I love the question “ how was your summer?” Oddly I did all the things and went all the places I had planned but still have the letdown as fall approaches. It’s as if I have to write a report for school and feel it doesn’t measure up. I have an inner child I talk to. “You did plenty honey. It was fun to play with you!”
Great response. I need to talk to my inner child this morning. Again. :)
Debbie,
What an intriguing essay. I think a writer's voice is always going to be different than the voice of the person. If we make adjustments in presenting ourselves to different friends and family members, then how could we avoid adjusting ourselves when we write to the world?
I've begun experimenting with fiction again as it allows me to take on different voices so I can escape myself.
David, “intriguing” is a high compliment; thank you! Good point, we make adjustments all the time in how we present.
You may not have realized it when you hit publish but this is one of your boldest moves yet Debbie! I hope you can feel how we reach toward you in this biggest stretch yet. <3 Trust that there is a consistent voice even when you don't feel it. Your readers hear it. You can't escape your own writing voice it is unique as a thumbprint for each of us.
These are the connections and honesties we need. Thank you for modeling for us yet again. <3
ooo Sarah, you've both surprised me and made my day!
Your challenge is real, but as my father used to say, " If it were easy, Cookie would do it." Cookie was our undefined mixed-breed rescue. When I get into my head too much, I find a way to disappear into a volunteer project, something that helps others and requires no brain power. Soup kitchen, hospital meals, etc., etc. ( No politics, causes, or clubs). Helping others who need some help brings me back to who I am and what I want to accomplish.
Doug, all great steps to take to climb out of the trough — thank you.
This works for me too, Doug. I had a lot of anxiety about school shootings, but I didn't want to spend my days digging into this issue on the political front. Instead I started this morning walking program (it's called Morning Mile) at my kids' school. It's not hard and only requires consistency. I've met parents I didn't know before and enjoy walking in the before school sun with them each weekday.
“To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet”, wrote TS Eliot. Even the most authentic among us do this from time to time. I can vacillate from patiently blasé competence to being washed in negativity, my faith in humanity run ragged, and an often overwhelmed by waves of “what’s the point?”
I am a person of faith, though, and it brings me back. But the trips sometimes are not pretty.
I understand what you mean, Debbie.
Christine, this resonates: “I vacillate from patiently blasé competence to being washed in negativity.” Thank you!
My first reaction to the word bold is to think of it as synonymous with brave. We are all approaching aging with declining health and losing people we love and it’s easy to want to put a brave face on these challenges. But what if bold really means simply being honest? And also vulnerable? Because that’s what I treasure most in my friends is the sense that I’m in relationship with a complicated, questioning spirit who doesn’t always know all the answers. And that’s one of the things Debbie that I treasure about you.
Christine, this is a whole essay! “But what if bold really means simply being honest?” Thank you.
Please read May Sarton's The House by The Sea. Your photo took me right to it. It's a journal from a period in her 60s and she writes so wonderfully about writing, ageing, solitude, company, being down, and how the seasons change as you live by the sea. I hope it will nourish you.
I found my aunt Fiona's copy of it on a shelf in her house in Spain 20 years after she had died. A note inside it tells me that the book had travelled from New York in Fi's suitcase to Ixopo, South Africa as a gift for her mum - and later to Spain in another suitcase. It now lives on a bookshelf in Oxford.
LOVE May Sarton - she can be grim but I love her writing anyway! And, I'm sure it is no coincidence that you found that book :)
Boy oh boy can I relate. I struggle all the time with feeling insecure, anxious, and worried about everything from my health to my "career" such as it is. I so appreciate your honest and authentic writing, which has struck a real nerve with me. Thank you!
Sacha, I love your Wise Women Expats series. Let's talk "offline" about France (and Paris)!
Yes please :)
I love this so much, Debbie. Truly.
I’ve been thinking lots lately about what and who I’m hiding when I write, and where and how showing up fully online doesn’t feel safe. My partner is so sick of this conversation! But I’m still floundering about, working it over and over, chewing the thing to bits. I do have an essay underway that speaks to it from one angle (though still without revealing too much). In these times, in many ways, it doesn’t feel safe to be fully honest (not that I outwardly lie, but I lie by omission).
Dana, this! "My partner is so sick of this conversation! But I’m still floundering about, working it over and over, chewing the thing to bits." Thank you.
This is beautifully written and most of us can relate, I think. I get these spells of shame that come out of nowhere and grab me in the core. Hang in there, my friend. Hope to see you soon!
hello light reading, I might know who you are! Yes to this: “spells of shame that come out of nowhere and grab me in the core.”
You do! See you in Paris. Meanwhile, I saw this great bag literally an hour after I read your story. Ugh - can’t figure out how to attach a photo.
This really resonates with me, Debbie. I've been writing about multiple selves within the self and how they all want to drive the bus (but some are not particularly good drivers, or not comfortable ones!). I love the way you are open about these other parts of you and also the power of recognizing aloud how others want us to be quiet about our struggles (so they aren't made uncomfortable). Brava for not being quiet, and for allowing for change and development and nuance!
I think you have nailed it here: "Maybe the point is that we, all of us, are multiple selves." I have to check in with myself often about which version of myself is going to show up in my posts. There are so many options! In this post, I hear you saying that you want your writing-self to be vulnerable as well as bold, and that it's not enough for you to show just one side of that prism. Very well. I recognize the truth of what you say, whether you want to show us only the bold part, or whether you want to take us into the fog with you, too. Both choices sound good to me -- especially with that lovely view out your window. There's no going wrong with that. 🥰
Tara, this is beautiful.