Freedom in older age

Creative strategies for preserving it

Image credit: The author

I love walking, running, and hiking. Being on foot gives me a sense of control over my movement and path. It makes me feel empowered and free—whether it's skinny dipping in a cool mountain lake or finding the perfect spot to pitch my tent. 

I discovered this freedom at the age of 26, when I moved to the United States forty years ago. In my native Austria, hiking usually involves moving from hut to hut in a landscape long domesticated for human use, where bears and wolves no longer roam, replaced by summer cattle grazing and logging.

As I grow older, I recognize the need for creative strategies to maintain this freedom. Recently, I reconnected with an old friend, who introduced me to backpacking in California decades ago. We planned a weekend trip, intending to cover eight miles the first day, but managed only five. The second day, we skipped breaking camp and opted for a day hike, which lightened our 30-pound packs. Also, I noticed that familiar tasks like getting in and out of my tent or jumping in the lake were no longer effortless; I moved less gracefully and more cautiously.

It was humbling to see how advancing age diminishes strength, stamina, and flexibility, despite willpower. Just as President Biden believed in his ability to continue, my own hiking memories sometimes tempt me to overestimate my current capabilities, compared to even months ago.

Decline is not linear.  As Joanne Lynn, a pioneering geriatrician, identifies different trajectories of decline up to the end of life, Atul Gawande echoes the gradual wear and tear our bodies endure and how medical care should adapt in his article ‘The Way We Age’. 

I’m 14 years behind Biden. But I can relate; I know how hard it is not only to find creative strategies to preserve my freedom but also to not blame myself for my diminishing capacities and the limitations they impose. 

Artists provide inspiring examples of how to adjust to the aging process. Arthur Rubinstein, who adapted his piano repertoire and technique to sustain his performance into his eighties, despite declining health, beautifully exemplifies psychologist Paul Baltes' SOC (or selective optimization with compensation) model. When asked how he did it, he explained that he reduced the range of pieces he played, practiced each of the remaining pieces more often, and learned to play very slowly just before beginning a fast passage to increase the contrast between them, since he couldn’t play as fast as when he was younger. 

Facing physical limitations painter Henri Matisse used a 12-foot bamboo stick, which allowed him broader motion to draw from one position; and later, when he needed to work from his bed or wheelchair, used scissors to cut out shapes from colored paper instead of using a pencil or paint. 

Robert Cappa, Henri Matisse in his Studio, Nice, France, 1949. Image Credit: © Robert Capa © International Center of Photography/Magnum Photos

In order to continue to enjoy the freedom of being on foot—one of my creative expressions, I now stretch every day to regain some of my flexibility. On my next hiking trip I’ll also work on further reducing my backpack weight, hike shorter distances and do more day trips from a basecamp instead of packing up a tent every day. Additionally, I continue my daily run/walk routine, as it fits my comfort level and keep up my mindful self-compassion practice, learning to be kind to myself, as I navigate the challenges of aging.