A reflection by Columban Sister Redempta Twomey
Mid-life, moving on to old age, can be a dangerous time. Dante was not alone in his experience: "Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself in a dark wood, where the right way was lost."

It is this feeling of lostness that so often disorientates many people at this stage of their life. The signposts are gone; they feel they are wandering aimlessly in a fog. A sense of meaningless, of futility saps their energies. Some engage in feverish activity in an unconscious effort to avoid the bleakness within. A full diary, hours in the gym, shopping, travel, games ... anything to escape. Others live with an undercurrent of anxiety or experience depression that robs them of their taste for life.

Not everyone, of course, goes through such turmoil. Many people enjoy their mature years, glad now to have more time and space for family and friends. They integrate the changes of aging making the most of every moment.

What supported us in the morning of life, Carl Jung said, will not be sufficient to see us through the afternoon. The questions raised in these decades are all spiritual ones. Earlier ambitions and dreams no longer energize us as we search for meaning now. As Dante wrote, "Ah, how hard a thing it is to tell what this wild and rough and difficult wood was ... So bitter that death is little more."

Some deny or resist this great change but, for those who experience the pain and turmoil or advancing years, a new path opens up in the seeming chaos of their inner selves. If they stay with the pain of it, they gradually learn that this is a time of reshaping, of renewal.

A deeper wisdom, a more pervasive compassion emerges, giving their lives a new focus. Questions are asked as they take stock of their direction. "Where am I going? Where do I want to go? What do I need to let go of to travel light for the years ahead? Where is my passion?"

Out of this suffering emerges a new person. Older, yes, but wiser. No longer bitter or resentful at the unfairness of life, at opportunities missed or roads not taken, the changed person now embraces life as gift with gratitude. As the compulsion to keep up with or stay ahead of the rat race fades, new values surface. Values of presence, of care, of attention.

The people and things we took for granted or overlooked are now seen with new clarity. As we find space from the busyness and demands of our days we are open to new insights, to increased wisdom, to joy. Age may be creeping up on us but, as St. Paul said, "We are not discouraged; although our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day" (2 Corinthians 4:16).

Sr. Joan Chittister reminds us of the richness that comes with age:

"In the second half of life everything we ever accumulated begins to disappear. We empty cupboards. We strip and clear and bear the hollows of our tiny worlds till there is nothing left but the self, the memories, the footsteps of our lives. We find ourselves stripped of titles and offices and importance. Feeling empty and vulnerable, we are cast adrift to contemplate what we have become and what we have done for others. Then, just when it seems that nothing is right, we wake up one morning to our leaner, truer selves. We are, we discover, now offered the prospect of doing the really important things we may have been too important to do before now."

While there is no certainty that growing older means growing wiser, or becoming more content, nevertheless this is a fertile time. We may not always know where we are going, but if we trust in God he will not forsake us. Abraham, the writer of the letter to the Hebrews tells us, "went out, not knowing where he was to go" (Hebrews 11:8). May we, like him, who risked all because he trusted in God, have faith and courage to walk the journey of our later years with peace.