Making our mark

Ambitious people are not the only ones who like to make their mark on earth. Ordinary people who accept who they are also like to leave their mark.

I hike every weekend, as I have told you before. Over time, I have met people on the trail who are regular hikers, like me, and I have made their acquaintance. Some of them have grown attached to the trail and decided they have the right to do things to nature and the trail.

A trail doesn’t lie static. You will see occasional changes here and there that slowly modify the “scenery” of the path you thought you knew so well. I have started to observe things that people do to the trail. I have seen people—actually, I’ve seen the results rather than people at work—opening up small terraces by the hillside, in order to make more room for their daily exercise routines. They treat it almost like their own garden, and try to beautify the space by planting flowering shrubs along the border of the terrace they have created.

In another spot, some hikers must have burnt the grass to enlarge a small sitting area. They have cut off the smaller branches of surrounding trees to allow more sunlight to shine into the area.

Once, I met an elderly man who proudly told his companion about his gardening achievements, how he had relocated a small tree from another spot and planted it here. It hadn’t worked out, and now he had put a new tree, also transplanted, in that location, and he hoped this one would work out fine. I find it fascinating to hear his references to the hillside, as if it were his own garden.

I guess we all want to make a difference in this world, in whatever manner it may be and regardless of our humble origins. But, to my mind, children are the best mark we can make on this world.

We are so accustomed to thinking of age in relation to categories—children, adolescents, adults, seniors—or in terms of needs and functions—start pre-school at age 3 (or whatever), start to drive at 18 (16 in some countries), join a senior center at age 60, and so on. If we try to think of age in a nonlinear and expansive manner, not limiting our ideas of age and ageing to the boundaries of a physical body, and if age is a mark that we make as we travel through time, which changes in form and nature depending on our growth and development, then this mark gains or loses significance one way or another over time and finally becomes a mark we leave behind on this earth. Looking at life this way, it is not just great people who leave their marks on this earth. We have all left our “footprints” somewhere as we age. Isn’t this idea immensely comforting?

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.

Reverse ageism

Some of our students participated in a volunteer project, visiting seniors we believed to be “hidden” from society. They either lived alone or without adequate social support.

I went with one of the students to visit an elderly woman in her 80s. She was a nice, pleasantly plump woman who manages very well on her own. She can walk around independently, albeit slowly, and she can go shopping and attend medical follow-ups without assistance. She says she likes staying home, and hardly ever goes out. We tried to encourage her to join the nearby social center, which is why my student was sent to visit her. But she was clearly in possession of all her faculties, and knew what she wanted. She said she didn’t feel bored spending her time at home. She had worked as a maid/nanny her entire life. Although she lived alone, the children of her former employer, whom she had served for many years, would call and visit her every now and then. She had brought them up and was like family to them. It was clear that she was not depressed and was very much in control of her own affairs.

After speaking with her for a while, I came to realize that she was not in need of any external help. She did not like to join trips organized by the center because she didn’t want to make others wait for her. She did not want to spend more of her time at the center because she was the kind of person who didn’t like to be in lots of group activities. She was not what we would call a role model of active ageing, but she was self-sufficient. She was leading the kind of life she wanted and was not making any intentional efforts to isolate herself from others. She was not “hidden” from social services. She had limited social contacts, but this was, indeed, the way of life she intended to lead. Who are we to say that she needed more social contact?

With the hype about healthy living and active ageing in recent years, we have formulated notions about living and ageing, what active ageing means and how to go about ageing in an active manner. We have a stereotype for those we think have aged successfully.

During our 45-minute visit with this woman, I reminded myself once more that I must not let reverse ageism cloud my lens, that I should respect people’s choices of how they live their lives and that I must not impose what I believe is right on people who have experienced living a lot longer than I have.

I do believe there are multiple models of successful ageing. Active ageing is but one of them.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.

About active ageing

My brother and I visited the Fujian Tulou (also called Earthen House) in southern Fujian Province, China, at the end of June. The tulou is an unusual type of Chinese rural dwelling. In 2008, UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) designated the Fujian Tulou as part of the cultural heritage of humankind. I had wanted to visit the place since I saw a commercial featuring a tulou a few years back.

There is an interesting story about the tulou. Reportedly, during the Reagan Administration, the CIA mistook them for nuclear devices and sent an undercover team, in the guise of a cultural tour, to check out the facts.

Tulou are mostly found in the southwestern part of rural Fujian. The area is hilly, full of terraced fields for growing tea and vegetables. Most of the people who live there seem to be engaged in farming or farm-related industries.

Well, this entry is not really about tulou, but about active ageing. One of the images that remains in my mind from my trip is seniors who were busy working in the fields or selling things on the road. They always had something to do. They didn’t seem to be worried or sad. They seemed contented and had a sense of purpose. It made me wonder whether city life has turned us into beings who are far too structured, where there is a time for everything, including retirement from work. There is no retirement in rural living. What better illustration could we have for active ageing than this?


For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.