I haven’t posted as much lately as it is summer, and I’ve been doing a lot of family trips. Including an Alaskan cruise the last two weeks. Such periods are supposed to be happy times, worth their extra cost in part due to our anticipating and remembering them fondly. But while such trips are indeed often filled with interesting and indulgent sights and experiences, they also let me see and feel death.
How? First there is the issue of vacations foreshadowing retirement, which is a partial death. By the age of retirement, your profession has become a big part of who you are, and the justification of your existence. So when you stop working, you end that pretty big and central part of you.
And before you retire, you can feel that scenario vividly during vacations. Times when you just can’t work, and others do okay without you. Thinking and writing are such a big part of who I am that I feel partly dead during extended periods when I can’t do them. And that isn’t a pleasant view or experience to me. Oh I have thoughts, but they fade and are replaced by new thoughts before I can turn them into prose.
Second, on this cruise the average age of guests was older than my wife and I (who are 67, 63). Allowing me to notice and reflect on how the old differ from others. Yes, some of them are much slower, making for frustrating waits in various lines. But that is a minor issue; most of them had plenty of energy for their activities. There is something less pleasant about being around such people, but what could it be? I’ve considered and tentatively rejected as explanations their beauty , wealth, status, and selfishness.
The difference that stands out to me is that such old folks no longer seek nor expect personal transformations. They are comfortable and secure in their personalities, styles, views, relations, and accomplishments, and rarely seek big changes to such things. I wouldn’t have expected that to make such a big difference but it does.
The crew was much younger (and admirably international), and though most were of lower status that guests, I could directly feel the attraction of their youthful personalities. Most of them hope to make big changes in their future lives, and that just makes a big difference. That creates something at stake in interacting with them that just isn’t there with older folks.
Increasing health and falling fertility has been making our world older, and I think this is a big reason for the many ways it has been decaying and declining. Old secure folks are less willing to allow risky innovations or changes. They care more about keeping what they have than about maybe getting much more. Problem is, without sufficient change even what we used to have will slowly fade away.
Added: In her recent article “The Case Against Travel”, my podcast co-host Agnes Callard argues that people over-claim the transformative powers of travel. And in a tweet she mentioned that this criticism probably applies better to older travelers.
"The difference that stood out to me is that such old folks no longer seek nor expect personal transformations"
I got a probable death sentence yesterday (https://jakeseliger.com/2023/07/22/i-am-dying-of-squamous-cell-carcinoma-and-the-treatments-that-might-save-me-are-just-out-of-reach/), and that's also likely decreased my interest in seeking or expecting personal transformations—and even non-personal transformations.
Why must you ever retire from thinking and writing and personal growth?
Why didn’t you write on this trip?