Shakespeare’s take on aging and its inevitability, from As You Like It. [Link]
Jaques: All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.
And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow.
Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth.
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth.
And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part.
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part.
The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound.
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound.
Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Both the above were brought to mind by the contemplations of this lady at her channel Solo Second Half, which I saw for the first time today.
It’s Confucius who most set me straight, from 1976 when I first studied his teachings. In this case about the stages in life, nothing being permanent or forever, of accepting the change process, of accepting aging.
It helped me when I left my senior job in Austrade back in 1995. One minute I was being called “boss”, forelocks tugged, respectful deference. The next I’m just a dude. Just a common bloke.
It’s not you they ever respected and paid obeisance to; it’s the position you had. It may seem obvious (because it is), but many folks don’t get it. Not straight away. And often not till it hurts.
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
And Confucius’ take on aging and its inevitability. From The Analects
三十而立 Sānshí érlì
四十而不惑 Sìshí ér bùhuò
五十而知天命 Wǔshí ér zhī tiānmìng
六十而耳顺 Liùshí ér ěrshùn
七十而从心所欲，不逾矩 Qīshí ér cóngxīnsuǒyù, bù yú jǔ
At thirty, one stands firm;at forty, one is free from doubt;at fifty, one knows the mandate of Heaven;at sixty, one's ear is attuned to the truth;at seventy, one can follow one's heart's desire, without transgressing the rules.
Both the above were brought to mind by the contemplations of this lady at her channel Solo Second Half, which I saw for the first time today.
It’s Confucius who most set me straight, from 1976 when I first studied his teachings. In this case about the stages in life, nothing being permanent or forever, of accepting the change process, of accepting aging.
It helped me when I left my senior job in Austrade back in 1995. One minute I was being called “boss”, forelocks tugged, respectful deference. The next I’m just a dude. Just a common bloke.
It’s not you they ever respected and paid obeisance to; it’s the position you had. It may seem obvious (because it is), but many folks don’t get it. Not straight away. And often not till it hurts.
Note to self: the (perhaps) sad reality: neither Shakespeare nor Confucius go past 70 years old. OTOH, that could be the good thing: we’re living longer. Which is true. But do we live longer and better?
