We have known for some time that people who are religious or spiritual tend to have better health and well-being (see David Williams and Michelle Sternthal, “Spirituality, Religion and Health: Evidence and Research Directions,” 2007). But the impact of our spiritual beliefs and practices can extend far beyond our own minds and bodies. New research suggests that the world benefits, too. How can this be?
In The More Beautiful World Our Hearts Know is Possible, author Charles Eisenstein answers this question. He argues that, although the modern world functions as if people are separate beings leading separate lives, we are actually “interbeings”: our very existence is deeply relational, and our lives are closely interconnected with other living things on the planet. Every act we engage in affects others. If we act from love and service — foundations of most religious and spiritual practices — we embrace our shared humanity and help to make the world itself more caring and humane. If we act from fear and anger, we arouse those feelings in others, and the world becomes more fearful and angry.
Eisenstein explains the dynamic between the world and the individual this way: The problems of the world are caused by wounded, fearful, alienated people and the systems they create. Spiritual work is therefore political work if it counters these problems with “love, connection, forgiveness, acceptance and healing” (p. 87).
Even small acts can make a big impact. Eisenstein gives the example of a volunteer cleaning bedpans in a hospice. Within the consciousness of interbeing, her work is just as important to the world as the work of a social activist trying to halt global warming. In an interconnected, intelligent universe, both acts are equally “empowered” to bring about change. We may not recognize the effects of our actions or the changes they create in others, but they are far-reaching and significant. Eisenstein notes that, although the big, public acts of service require “all our gifts of courage and genius,” they don’t require “nearly the faith and solidity in the ground of interbeing as the invisible, humble actions” of people like the hospice volunteer. She does what she does out of love and a sense of interconnection to the hospice patient and all others who are vulnerable and dependent.
Older people who have matured spiritually may be uniquely qualified to provide these small acts of service and to recognize their worldly benefits. Theologian Eugene Bianchi says that people become “spiritually mature” when they have developed fully in three areas: they have grown psychologically and spiritually through various methods and practices; they have deepened their bond of love toward all living things; and they have become increasingly committed to the causes of justice, peace and ecology (Aging as a Spiritual Journey, 1995). These elders feel a sense of stewardship for future generations and the planet.
Why are older adults uniquely positioned to be good stewards?
As Bianchi sees it, “The wisdom of the old consists precisely in a less self-centered commitment to the care and integration of the whole human project. One could almost say that the elderly, as custodians of the wisdom of the race, should be even more future-oriented than the young and middle-aged, who are typically enveloped in immediate concerns, establishing or developing a career, providing for families and rearing children.”
Although growing old, in and of itself, does not bring about spiritual maturity, it does bring about certain conditions – such as a decrease in activity and an increase in solitude — that are conductive to reflection, an awareness of others, and a desire for spiritual growth. For this reason, one author has called advanced old age a “natural monastery,” because life is stripped to its barest essentials, and losses become opportunities to clear away the obstacles that keep us from appreciating each moment (Jane Thibault, “Aging as a Natural Monastery,” 1996). In this minimalist space, we are less likely to be blinded by the idealism of youth and better able to detach from the personal and social agendas that preoccupied us earlier in life (Robert C. Atchley, “Spirituality,” 2000).
Nursing home reformist and author William Thomas agrees. He believes that older people are much better prepared to provide wisdom and guidance in the world because they are no longer “gripped by the fever of rank and wealth.” (What are Old People For?) He sees old age as a time for healing and making peace with one’s self, with friends and family, and with the world. He thinks that older people offer vital contributions to society in the form of teaching and enculturating youth; providing council and advice based on experience and an understanding of long-term consequences; serving as living examples of how to survive amidst drastic global change; and, in the end, as they grow frail, reminding us of our shared humanity and interdependence.
How can we accelerate our spiritual maturation?
Minister and religious scholar Robert Casteel, writing from his home in a continuing care community, offers two pieces of advice. First, be open to the “possibility that an encounter with the Presence of God can come to us right now in the midst of our much constricted life in retirement” (qtd. in Susan McFadden and Janet Ramsey, “Encountering the Numinous: Relationality, the Arts, and Religion in Later Life,” 2010). Second, seize opportunities to enhance spiritual growth, and if necessary, create them ourselves. As one example, Casteel suggests that we meet with others who are committed to spiritual growth and maturity. In such gatherings, we can share resources and talk about difficult existential questions, such as, “What’s the point of getting old? What does it all come down to? Why are we here? How best should we spend our remaining time? These conversations may take place online or face-to-face. They may include only our age-peers, or they might be multigenerational. Casteel finds that conversations with others who are interested in spiritual questions, along with reading, prayer, meditation, and reflection, helps us feel “mutually nourished about the spiritual challenges of remaining open to joy while also grieving accumulating burdens.”
And if we can stay open to joy amidst our own losses, we will serve as loving examples to the rest of the world, which desperately needs more joy.
Written by: Ruth Ray Karpen
Ruth Ray Karpen is a researcher, writer and retired English professor. She has published many books and articles on aging and old age, life story writing, and retirement. (See Beyond Nostalgia: Aging and Lifestory Writing, 2000 and Endnotes: An Intimate Look at the End of Life, 2008). Most recently, as a hospice volunteer whose 98-year-old mother is a hospice patient, she has been exploring the meaning of death and dying. In our series on “Heart and Soul,” she will consider how later life, including the end of life, offers unique opportunities for emotional and spiritual growth.
On behalf of Smart Strategies for Successful Living, our sincerest appreciation goes to Ruth Ray Karpen for her contribution to our community website and commitment to the success of older adults.
