By Nancy Peckenham
The other day in yoga class, I was surprised when the teacher stopped suddenly after mentioning how yoga practice could help you as you age. “I mean, yoga helps with your longevity,” she said, correcting herself.
As I sat cross-legged on my mat, it struck me it was the first time I had heard the term longevity used by a person who was not working in the gerontology sphere. I took it as a clear sign that a new way of describing the last decades of life is seeping into common usage.
When I was growing up, I heard many different ways of describing a person’s later years, most of them less-than-inspiring: elderly, aged, old, geriatric, and over-the-hill, to name a few.
It’s no wonder that as I entered my late 50s, my view of the future was shrouded by the specter of decline, senility, and generally falling apart. This negative view of the years ahead was all-encompassing, and I found it difficult to picture a vibrant future where I could put my years of skill and experience to work.
As Yale University professor Dr. Becca Levy has documented, these negative views of aging have a real-world impact and can result in a shorter lifespan. Fortunately, Dr. Levy’s research has helped fuel a positive aging movement that is tossing out the old terms that weighed on us as we age.
I find the use of the term longevity empowers me to think about my future in a neutral framework.
Imagine what could happen if you were told as a high school student to think about your future with a 100-year lifespan. Instead of envisioning a future where you will work for 45 years and retire at 65, followed by the inevitable decline in your mental and physical abilities, you are presented with a timeline of your life that is a continuum without a sudden loss of relevancy.
What do you want to be doing when you’re 40 or 50? Do you want to go back to school and learn new skills? Do you want to achieve career goals at 40, then take 20 years to raise a family before you embark on a new career that you can pursue until you’re 80 years old? I know several people in their 80s who still have vital work lives.
When the social security system was created nearly 90 years ago, life expectancy for men was 58 years and 62 for women. Today in the U.S., both sexes can expect to live an additional twenty years, yet we are only beginning to reimagine how to use that time.
Academics have been talking about this new approach to the human lifespan for some two decades. The Stanford Center for Longevity opened in 2007 to focus “on longevity, not old age.” Laura Carstenen, the center’s director, points out that as we added decades to our lifespan, the only stage that actually got longer was old age. She and her colleagues have developed college courses to teach how to re-think lifespans so that the great potential of longer life is fully realized.
When my yoga teacher talked about fulfilling our longevity goals, I felt optimism, a sign that the ideas promoted by the Stanford Center are taking root.
A couple of decades ago, she might have said that yoga keeps you young or that it is a great anti-aging practice. Now, the focus is shifting to being your best at every stage of life.
I like the idea of imagining a lifespan where I can pace myself to explore new frontiers at any stage of life. At age 64, I founded a publication and podcast to share experiences about aging. Through this work, I regained my excitement about the future while losing my dread of being sidelined in life. I found purpose and friendship with hundreds of people who no longer let the old stereotypes limit their horizons.
Now, I find similar people in places like my yoga class, where half the students are 60 and above. Like me, most lumber through the poses despite physical limitations that come with age, but stretching and strengthening to the best of their abilities is now part of their longevity plan.
Nancy Peckenham is the founder and editor of Crow’s Feet: Life As We Age, a nonprofit that produces an online publication and a biweekly podcast. She is a former cable news executive, local news reporter, and documentary filmmaker with a focus on Latin America. She has published three books and has written about her life traveling the U.S. in a Sprinter van with her husband. When not on the move, she loves gardening and spending time with her two sons.