This Senior Has a Fun New (Nearly) Toy

Senior Living

From time to time, I peruse articles on this platform and elsewhere on the topic of senior living. I refer to these years as my final quarter.

Stories run a wide gamut. Complaints about age discrimination. Dreary days of elderliness. Challenging caregiving duties. Depressing health challenges (dementia is the fave these days). Gripes about health care (also popular). Financial worries. Uplifting motivational or inspirational pieces.

Sadly, the upbeat, cheerful pieces are in the minority. I'm a staunch proponent of this category - living positively and joyfully - regardless of one's numeric digits.

Philosophy is Personal

My perspective has always been that age is a state of mind, defined by open-mindedness and a desire to explore, grow, and evolve. I subscribe to the trite "We're as old (young) as we choose to be."

Haven't we all encountered individuals whose substantially younger chronological age bears scarce resemblance to their antiquated mindset and unwillingness to seek anything unusual, new, or remotely uncomfortable? Whose lives are an endless series of repetitions?

In contrast, other seniors plow through their retirement years remaining adventurous, engaged, interested, and interesting. People in their sixties, seventies, and eighties moving to new countries. Or continuing to travel extensively to fascinating places. Or engaging in unfamiliar hobbies. Or remaining intrigued by the world and lives of others.

How we approach the inevitable aging process is a personal choice. My theory -- with absolutely no scientific data to support it -- is people who were stuck in boring sameness in their 30s and 40s will likewise remain unadventurous later.

Maintaining joie de vivre, this 71-year-youngster recently purchased a nearly new (4,000 km of drive time) motorbike. I had been renting the same model for two years. I named her "Kali." It's a Honda Scoopy, an uber-popular model on Bali, the Island of the Gods, which I currently call home.

Doesn't it look like fun? Not only is it a blast to drive, but two-wheelers rule on the isle. Any motorbike trip results in at least a one-third time savings over a four-wheeled vehicle.

Life on Motorc ycles

I've loved motorcycles since my youth. As an adolescent in rural midwestern United States, the local boys owned bikes before cars. And, what was their favorite activity? Taking the neighborhood girls for rides, of course.

Zooming along country roads with the wind whipping my face (no one wore helmets) and hair blowing wildly, I adored riding…our unscripted iteration of Easy Rider.

Naturally, that my father despised motorcycles only accentuated their appeal for both my younger brother and me. Upon earning enough at his first job, my brother purchased one. I, on the other hand, didn't own my first until the ripe age of sixty-five.

When previously living for three years in India, my primary transportation was as a passenger on scooters or motorcycles. It was the best! The drivers were incredibly experienced and competent. Never once was I afraid.

I came to revel in India from that vantage point. Being up close and personal with the magical, intense gritty energy of the streets was far more realistic than viewed from the comfort of an air-conditioned SUV.

And, despite the horrific traffic in India (yes, the photos you've seen are not in the least exaggerated), I also never witnessed a single motorcycle accident in three years. That amazed me, contrasted with living in the fifth largest USA city where it was rare to manage a week without coming upon a car crash.

It's the same on Bali. I've never witnessed a motorbike accident in more than two years.

So, at age 65, it seemed high time to learn to drive my own scooter. Having moved to Mazatlan, Mexico, after a brief stint back in the States, I purchased a Diablo model of Italika, the country's most popular brand.

Was it crazy? Perhaps a tad. I joked with my sister if I were smacked by a city bus, my demise would be quick, but that I'd prefer going out thusly than a lingering illness.

Due to age and slower reflexes, I experienced momentary hesitation about taking up a moto lifestyle. But having ridden a bicycle since childhood, a motorcycle is the same dynamic.

I learned to ride my scooter with only one lesson. While hobbling along my apartment complex street trying to master it, a kind neighbor, himself a rider for forty years, took pity upon me.

He offered several basic tips, checked out the bike, and urged me to keep practicing. That's what I did, driving cautiously and always wearing a helmet. After a month, I felt comfortable toodling longer distances about town.

I adored cruising, with the magnificent Pacific Ocean often in view. It became abundantly clear why motorcycle-driving friends revel in the freedom of two wheels. As my dear friend Ron maintains, "It's the closest we can come to flying." I was hooked and vowed never again to own a four-wheeler.

As the only gringo woman in town with a red moto, everyone came to know me, much to my amusement. My grasp of Spanish was limited; hence, I'm unsure how they described me. "Loco gringa," perhaps?

In my days of driving four-wheelers - always sports cars and convertibles -- I inherited the heavy foot of my father and loved speeding. I proudly racked up speeding tickets in seven US states. Now, however, cognizant of not being raised on a motorbike from age 15 like the locals, I don't cruise at those high speeds. I'm fine being the old lady passed by young whippersnappers and testosterone-fueled speedsters.

I laid the bike down once in Mexico to avoid a head-on collision. I was no worse for wear, except a skinned arm and leg. Here, I've laid it down twice, both "driver error," but again with no injuries aside from scrapes on limbs. I wear those minor scrapes as badges of honor because any real bikers have all laid down their ride. If I have a serious collision or feel my reactions have become too limited, I'll give it up for walking.

But for the time being, each outing is a reminder of the joy of not capitulating to stereotypical expectations of how old ladies ought to conduct themselves. My friends and family all know that if I get taken out on a motorbike on the tropical isle of Bali, I'll not have a single moment of regret.

Possibilities and Horizons

Not everyone is drawn to two-wheel travel. But isn't often an unfortunate symptom of old age curmudgeonliness, the unwillingness or fear of stretching our comfort zones, whether mentally, physically, or spiritually?

Why not try something foreign or unfamiliar? A new avocation or passion. A foreign language. Volunteering or contributing to one's community. Traveling to more challenging, fascinating locales. My "older" friends whom I adore are actively engaged in living fully and fantastically!

Realities and Choices

Age discrimination is an abominable, unfortunate reality. Statistically, it's a near certainty that the majority of seniors will face health challenges at some juncture. Financial concerns will plague a huge contingent of us. And, the Grim Reaper's visit is a guarantee.

How we deal with those actualities is a personal choice. Wise counsel from Dr. Wayne Dyer long ago resonated with me and has remained a signature cornerstone of my outlook.

He advised that if we look for them, myriad annoyances and issues about which to become upset, offended, or angry abound around us day in and day out. People with unique differences from ourselves whom we fail to embrace. Vexations of daily living that disturb us. Glitches in daily rhythms that require us to shift expectations or expectations.

Don't we all know people who carp or find fault regularly with everything? The negative nabobs who revel in being miserable or grumpy?

Such a perspective is our option. But so is adopting the opposite attitude. Instead of focusing on the irksome, we can seize from the hiccups what is positive and inspirational. We can treat challenges as learning experiences. We can overlook petty annoyances. We can search for the silver lining.

Without question, moments still occur when I revert to the good ole indoctrinated American moaning, complaining, or finding fault (a national pastime of the US). However, at least, I'm cognizant of the unpleasant trait. When catching myself being critical or judgmental, I remind myself to cease the negative mind chatter post haste.

Negativity

Whining about how aging is awful, depressing, or painful too often becomes the 60+-year-old's mantra.

Eavesdrop on a restaurant table of a group of seniors and take bets with your dining companions about how much of their conversation revolves around health problems, aches and pains, medications, physical limitations, money woes, or references to happier and healthier, bygone days.

Several months ago, I read a story on another Internet site by a writer who pointed out how it's not enjoyable for the younger set to hang out with us oldsters for precisely this reason. Having discovered similar patterns among my peers, I avoid socializing with the complainers or those whose final years are a soliloquy of health problems. Negativity is contagious and unhealthy.

Does any of us enjoy listening to complaints? My general motto in life has been: Never explain, never complain. Certainly, I've not always succeeded in meeting the objective, but it's generally held me in good stead.

Programming and Marketing

It's not surprising that senior citizenry is dreaded, especially in the industrialized West, where only youthful vigor is celebrated and respected, and the last quarter of our existence is ignored, mocked, or feared by media and advertising (aside from advertisements for prescriptions, health monitors, and Depends).

We've been bombarded by sprightly images throughout our entire lives. "Youth marketing" is a massive industry to the thirty-five and under crowd - the hip and cool generations. Promises of dipping into the fountain of eternal youth drive a gazillion-dollar industry of plastic surgery and cosmetic fillers, plumpers, and creams and potions.

Outlook

Untold quantities of ink are spilled regarding healthful lifestyles…the usual exercise, diet, and sleep. In the past decade or so, similar content has grown about the less quantifiable aspects of the human experience. We've become more cognizant of how intangibles impact our well-being. Relationships. Environment. Mental attitudes. Emotions.

Whether or not any longitudinal studies have been commenced that might assess emotional health over decades, I know not. But my instincts tell me that happier, more contented younger people will be likewise the same in their senior years.

This National Institutes of Health (NIH) article incorporates data indicating that attitudes about aging impact individuals' coping when they're older. It also highlights the importance of our outlooks.

What people think about older people and their own aging affects how they age themselves [8, 9] and how they behave [10–11]. Older people who have a positive view of aging have good psychological resources even in old age [12]. People with better attitudes toward aging show fewer negative effects, better health behavior, better health, lower mortality, better cognitive function, and lower risk of dementia compared to people with more negative attitudes toward their own aging [13–16].

Bužgová, R., Kozáková, R., & Bobčíková, K. (2024). Predictors of attitudes towards aging in elderly living in community care. BMC Geriatrics, 24. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12877-024-04840-6, https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC10949648/#:~:text=PMC%20Copyright%20Notice-,BMC%20Geriatr.,-2024%3B%2024%3A%20266.

One thing about which I am convinced, however, from my albeit limited exposure to the peoples of the five countries where I have resided (USA, Mexico, Thailand, Indonesia, and India) is that we do have choices about how to approach senior living. I see marked differences among the attitudes of those raised in the West versus the East.

Most prevalent is that age in the East is not an automatic negative or dreaded state. It's an accepted part of the process of living. Elders are not only respected and cherished; they're typically cared for in multi-generational homes and communities.

Those of us programmed by the 'old age is a curse' mentality still can choose the nattering negative nabob outlook or strive to be optimistic and open-minded.

Repeat, Repeat, Repeat

Without a doubt, patterns, repetition, and habits make life easier.

Is that what we all want or need? The answer is yes for those who have: check the box(es) - -lived in the same home for thirty, forty, or more years, never traveled outside their home country, lived in the same community or had one job forever, or never done anything considered remotely risky or adventurous.

The reply might be no, however, for those who have experienced several jobs or careers, embarked on adventures, or taken up different hobbies or avocations throughout periods of their lives.

The final quarter of our lives needn't be stagnant or the same-same as it was for the prior three quadrants, as evidenced by migrating numbers of seniors moving to a new country, taking up new hobbies, studying different topics, or learning to ride a motorcycle.

Seniors in their sixties, seventies, and eighties continue to inspire me. An acquaintance Trisha, after living decades in Texas, in her mid-60s, has pulled up stakes after decades to move to Arizona. Carol, a dear NYC friend, has spent parts of the past two years in Portugal and is contemplating a permanent move. Another senior friend Garry from Italy is planning his second India trip upon recuperating from back surgery. A DC friend in his eighties recently remarried.

Kudos to all seniors who continue to live fully! It is our choice.

I'm honored you chose to spend some of it here.

Victoria 🙏😎

© Victoria Kjos. All Rights Reserved. 2024.