Milena Moser: What will happen?

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It was at a garden party or maybe a gallery garden, I don’t remember. I was talking to a woman I didn’t know, we chatted a little, but I must have said more than I understood. She cocked her head to one side and her eyes filled with pity. Or compassion. Either way, I was embarrassed. She asked me how old I was, then took my hand and squeezed it.

“I promise you, everything will get better. It’s getting easier. Look at me, I’m 63 years old!”

As if on cue, a charming man approached her. He handed her a glass of champagne and they both walked on. I looked at the woman as if she were a ghost, in a long yellow sundress, in a straw hat of the same color, next to her was a handsome man. And I got hope.

In fact, things soon got better. Not necessarily easier, but better. In the sense of “more mine.” I became more present, clearer and more focused. More of myself And life gives me a radiance that I never noticed before. Everyday life, even if it happens all too often in emergency rooms and hospital rooms, is full of tiny sparks and shards of joy and gratitude. Can it really get better?

Jane Fonda calls the time after sixty “the third act.” This is the most important thing in the theater, where everything converges and makes sense. However, a friend who knows the theater refutes this. “Bullshit,” she says. Much more important than the third act of vicissitudes, a turning point, an unexpected twist of fate. – And you already had it.

It’s right. However, I can’t shake the feeling that there is still more to come. I don’t know what either. But if something really still lies unlived, unrealized, untested in me: now is the moment. Now or never. There is an urgency at sixty that I didn’t feel when I was fifty. Sixty is an adventure.

Jane Fonda has reinvented herself as a radical environmental activist since her sixtieth birthday, having been arrested countless times. For me, it shouldn’t be so exciting. And it has nothing to do with performance. I am open to everything. Maybe it doesn’t do anything. Or sleep. I definitely have untapped potential!

My 91-year-old friend Connie just smiles indulgently at my ideas. “Oh, sixty is too early!” For her, the last five years are the most important in her life. This surprises me, because I know that she suffers from severe pain, which is increasingly limiting her.

“That’s why,” she explains. “I can’t do anything, I can’t avoid myself, I’m fixated on myself. I mentally wander through my life, through my memories, sort them, find out the reasons and connections. I forgive myself a lot.”

She thinks for a moment. “It’s a time of hope. I want to understand the time I had before it’s over.” She then chuckles, “Everyone tells me I have to clean my house before I die. Instead, I declutter my soul.”

Source: Blick