All this, so much this, Alice, I’m so glad to read through your posts here. Same boat, just 70, so much to do for this former tiptoeing Indian maiden. New in the neighborhood here, happy to sit at your table for a while and meet everyone.
Happy Birthday dear Alice! I can't believe you are 70 either but you make it less scary and you wear it well. So happy to have your words -- we need them so much! Miss you and have a lovely time at Yaddo! xoxoxoxo
Like your other devoted readers, I resonate to this. Lately, I've been feeling the ageism in our society, and I can't say I take it well. I don't like being discounted, being brushed aside as too old to really count much when from my point of view, I have books left to write, work left to do. Yes, seventy. And trying not to give way or give up to the changes, the violence, the discrimination and suppression in our country, to keep doing what I can, even knowing it's not enough. Thank you for your strong voice.
“I’m too old for this” which we of a certain age say sometimes is indeed a statement of being overwhelmed. At our age “I’m too young for this” can only refer to death. What else could we be too young for? So, Goldilocks, what does “this is just right” look like? You said it all when you listed what it isn’t and conjured up the safety that it is. Just safety is not enough, though. Safety, challenge and feeling ok.
I am 70 and I get carded buying a bottle of wine at the Walgreens in Belfast Maine to bring to a dinner party. “I’m 70,” I say as I show my driver’s license and the clerk shrugs and says “company policy”. I love how your writing resonates with me. Take a deep breath and enjoy your residency.
Oh, Al; thanks for this. I remember Beverly saying, "I can't believe I'm this old," and me thinking, And this is the youngest you will ever be from now on.
Except for having a famous father or wealthy grandfather, I was that feral girl, aiming to be as strong and athletic as my two older brothers. Having grown up without Title IX I had no examples of women athletes, or women ANYTHING, other than nurses and teachers. I wanted to be brave and string and tough - and I don't know when that changed. When I suddenly realized I was scared of stuff - like being scared of heights - when the hell did THAT happen?!
Anyway, I love the way you write, and think. I'm looking forward to more, and glad I discovered you. And - oh yes - I am 70 too. Inside I'm 29, until I try to test out a tap dancing step (when did THAT skill leave me?!). I refuse to acknowledge I'm old(er), until I pass a mirror. Sigh. You write so beautifully and inspire me to think about where I am at. I might figure this out before I crumble into stardust. Maybe not. ❤️
Not famous but renowned, not wealthy but successful. Such different times. I make more as a professor than my grandfather did as a CEO. He didn't believe in big gaps in pay between executives and staff.
I often feel fourteen inside but I am happy to claim seventy. I was so encouraged by the NYT feature recently where people in their '80s said they'd never been happier. I want to get there!
Beautiful words. I feel the sentiment of all of this deeply. Also, I used to walk across the stones as a kid on our farm to toughen up my feet each summer too. 😊
“What I want to do is spend my remaining time feeling love, feeling safe, feeling ready, and helping where I can. I have my work cut out for me.” This is all there is, really. I just came from a place where owning an AR15 is assumed, where stray dogs roam the streets, where a family of five was murdered for asking that the shooter not fire his weapon in the yard while the children were trying to sleep. The more I am exposed to this, the more I understand how I have to live for the rest of my days, be they 2 or 20 years: feeling love and safety. I have to believe it will overtake the horrors--this live Mad Max movie we’re existing in. I loved every word of this essay and will return to it. 🙏🏻❤️
Thank you for steering me here, Elissa, with a share of Alice’s last post (The Blank Draft, shiver, cuts close) - I wander around and find a(nother) sister spirit. New here in the Substack neighborhood, this forest of souls).
But isn't it a kind of heroism to speak honestly about forbidden things? Saying out loud, I'm old is pretty rare to hear, in our world. To me, your fearlessness in sharing what's on your mind is right in line with who you were as that brave little girl. ❤️
Love every word of this, Alice! I learned things about you I never knew before, and maybe even learned things about myself in how much I empathize and relate to it. Wow! You have not lost sight of your mission. Your mission has just changed. You are there (and still very much alive and kicking) for your countless adoring readers, friends old and new, and especially your adoring students. They need you, and you need to think of them and the purpose you serve in their lives every time you feel overwhelmed. I haven’t laid eyes on you in over 50 years, and yet you still serve a purpose in mine! Love you!
Pattie this is so sweet and I can't believe it has been 55 years but it has. I remember a thousand things from that summer and from visiting your houses like—bagels. Never heard of them before!
You’d never eaten a bagel, let alone heard of one? Well, then I changed your life too! I was going to go to the Montclair Book Festival this weekend because my son Aidan is speaking about his latest book there too. But it’s a “schlep.” Must meet up soon somewhere. It has been too long!
I’m with you all the way, Al, and am most grateful you took some of that time to spend with me in the concrete jungle. I just wish we had detoured onto this subject at some point, which obsesses me equally. Maybe at some point in the unknown future while sitting on the porch of your little house by the sea!
Powerful piece, you captured the conundrum we all face in all its complex strands. You're writing this, by the way, during the busiest point in your young life so far. Amazing and bravo Alice!
This describes everything I have been feeling lately though I have no monumental birthday to blame it on. Especially the sense of lost mission, as I struggle to recreate into something that feels meaningful. Thank you for naming it.
All this, so much this, Alice, I’m so glad to read through your posts here. Same boat, just 70, so much to do for this former tiptoeing Indian maiden. New in the neighborhood here, happy to sit at your table for a while and meet everyone.
Happy Birthday dear Alice! I can't believe you are 70 either but you make it less scary and you wear it well. So happy to have your words -- we need them so much! Miss you and have a lovely time at Yaddo! xoxoxoxo
Like your other devoted readers, I resonate to this. Lately, I've been feeling the ageism in our society, and I can't say I take it well. I don't like being discounted, being brushed aside as too old to really count much when from my point of view, I have books left to write, work left to do. Yes, seventy. And trying not to give way or give up to the changes, the violence, the discrimination and suppression in our country, to keep doing what I can, even knowing it's not enough. Thank you for your strong voice.
I adore this, dear Alice.
“I’m too old for this” which we of a certain age say sometimes is indeed a statement of being overwhelmed. At our age “I’m too young for this” can only refer to death. What else could we be too young for? So, Goldilocks, what does “this is just right” look like? You said it all when you listed what it isn’t and conjured up the safety that it is. Just safety is not enough, though. Safety, challenge and feeling ok.
I am 70 and I get carded buying a bottle of wine at the Walgreens in Belfast Maine to bring to a dinner party. “I’m 70,” I say as I show my driver’s license and the clerk shrugs and says “company policy”. I love how your writing resonates with me. Take a deep breath and enjoy your residency.
Oh, Al; thanks for this. I remember Beverly saying, "I can't believe I'm this old," and me thinking, And this is the youngest you will ever be from now on.
Looks like them chickens came home to roost.
"What did you expect? "
(your famous line)
Except for having a famous father or wealthy grandfather, I was that feral girl, aiming to be as strong and athletic as my two older brothers. Having grown up without Title IX I had no examples of women athletes, or women ANYTHING, other than nurses and teachers. I wanted to be brave and string and tough - and I don't know when that changed. When I suddenly realized I was scared of stuff - like being scared of heights - when the hell did THAT happen?!
Anyway, I love the way you write, and think. I'm looking forward to more, and glad I discovered you. And - oh yes - I am 70 too. Inside I'm 29, until I try to test out a tap dancing step (when did THAT skill leave me?!). I refuse to acknowledge I'm old(er), until I pass a mirror. Sigh. You write so beautifully and inspire me to think about where I am at. I might figure this out before I crumble into stardust. Maybe not. ❤️
Not famous but renowned, not wealthy but successful. Such different times. I make more as a professor than my grandfather did as a CEO. He didn't believe in big gaps in pay between executives and staff.
I often feel fourteen inside but I am happy to claim seventy. I was so encouraged by the NYT feature recently where people in their '80s said they'd never been happier. I want to get there!
Strong - not string.
Beautiful words. I feel the sentiment of all of this deeply. Also, I used to walk across the stones as a kid on our farm to toughen up my feet each summer too. 😊
A girl after my own heart.
“What I want to do is spend my remaining time feeling love, feeling safe, feeling ready, and helping where I can. I have my work cut out for me.” This is all there is, really. I just came from a place where owning an AR15 is assumed, where stray dogs roam the streets, where a family of five was murdered for asking that the shooter not fire his weapon in the yard while the children were trying to sleep. The more I am exposed to this, the more I understand how I have to live for the rest of my days, be they 2 or 20 years: feeling love and safety. I have to believe it will overtake the horrors--this live Mad Max movie we’re existing in. I loved every word of this essay and will return to it. 🙏🏻❤️
Thank you for steering me here, Elissa, with a share of Alice’s last post (The Blank Draft, shiver, cuts close) - I wander around and find a(nother) sister spirit. New here in the Substack neighborhood, this forest of souls).
Thank you, Elissa. I know, the madness is a big part of the overwhelm. And it is pure madness. We need our places by the sea in Maine.
But isn't it a kind of heroism to speak honestly about forbidden things? Saying out loud, I'm old is pretty rare to hear, in our world. To me, your fearlessness in sharing what's on your mind is right in line with who you were as that brave little girl. ❤️
Thank you, Nancy. Just stating the obvious!
Love every word of this, Alice! I learned things about you I never knew before, and maybe even learned things about myself in how much I empathize and relate to it. Wow! You have not lost sight of your mission. Your mission has just changed. You are there (and still very much alive and kicking) for your countless adoring readers, friends old and new, and especially your adoring students. They need you, and you need to think of them and the purpose you serve in their lives every time you feel overwhelmed. I haven’t laid eyes on you in over 50 years, and yet you still serve a purpose in mine! Love you!
Pattie this is so sweet and I can't believe it has been 55 years but it has. I remember a thousand things from that summer and from visiting your houses like—bagels. Never heard of them before!
You’d never eaten a bagel, let alone heard of one? Well, then I changed your life too! I was going to go to the Montclair Book Festival this weekend because my son Aidan is speaking about his latest book there too. But it’s a “schlep.” Must meet up soon somewhere. It has been too long!
Love this so much. It’s true that the pile of don’t wants become heavier than the wants.
I’m with you all the way, Al, and am most grateful you took some of that time to spend with me in the concrete jungle. I just wish we had detoured onto this subject at some point, which obsesses me equally. Maybe at some point in the unknown future while sitting on the porch of your little house by the sea!
I hope so, or in your village where I'll stay across the street.
Powerful piece, you captured the conundrum we all face in all its complex strands. You're writing this, by the way, during the busiest point in your young life so far. Amazing and bravo Alice!
This describes everything I have been feeling lately though I have no monumental birthday to blame it on. Especially the sense of lost mission, as I struggle to recreate into something that feels meaningful. Thank you for naming it.