The Journey - Creativity in the Middle Later Years

Written by Tammie Byram Fowles, PhD, LISW-CP

SONGS OF THE SOUL

"The years teach much which the days never know." Ralph Waldo Emerson

When I think about the beauty of childhood, I often remember a little girl singing as loud as she can. She is described as a spirited child. She sings without inhibition, simply because she feels like singing. She sings to no one in particular - the world is her audience. She skips and she chants in the sunlight. Her song is an expression of the freedom of her soul.

For many of us, the songs of the soul were silenced years ago, silenced by fear, by shame, by loneliness, by distractions, and by so much more. For some of us, reclaiming our souls will mean first facing the emptiness we feel inside, and resolving to no longer attempt to fill it with money, food, drugs, accomplishments, etc. For others, recovering their souls may involve discovering who they truly are, and allowing their authentic selves to have a voice. For still others, embracing their spirit will require that they embrace their bodies as well. There are many paths to the soul...

THE ULYSSEAN ADULT

"I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it too." Diane Ackerman

According to John A. B. McLeish, author of "The Ulyssean Adult: Creativity in the Middle & Later Years," the Ulyssean adult possesses the following characteristics: a sense of quest, courage, resourcefulness, resiliency, creativity, and unexpectedness.

A Sense of Quest:

The Ulyssean adult maintains or rediscovers a sense of adventure. For this individual, life contains valuable lessons, experiences, and challenges.

In an attempt to provide a portrait of the Ulyssean adult, I would like to share with you a true story about a woman whom I have never met. I don't know where or when she was born, who her parents were, or much about her childhood. I don't even know her name. What I do know is that six years before I was born, when she was middle aged, she left her friends, her possessions, and her home behind to start on a quest for peace. She had no organizational backing or money. She carried with her only the clothes on her body, copies of her message, a ball point pen, her correspondences, a comb, and a folding toothbrush. By the time I started Kindergarten, she had walked 25,000 miles across this country and into Canada, sharing her message of peace.

When I was ten, she began her fourth pilgrimage across the United States, her message continued to be that we must each work to create and maintain peace not only in the world, but in our families, our communities, our workplace, and in ourselves.

By the time I am nineteen and in college, she is walking for the seventh time across America. During her journeys she has been physically attacked, arrested, and has faced death again and again.

The month I am to celebrate my fourth wedding anniversary, she dies on her way to a speaking engagement. She does not die of illness or old age. In fact, she is as healthy (she maintained she was healthier) in her seventies (or eighties?) as she was when she first started walking. The woman who walked for 28 years and known to the world only as the "peace pilgrim," said of herself once, "I am a pilgrim, a wanderer. I shall remain a wanderer until mankind has learned the way of peace, walking until I am given shelter and fasting until I am given food."

Courage:

The Peace Pilgrim confronted danger and life-threatening situations on numerous occasions. She shared that the first time she faced death in a blinding snowstorm during her first pilgrimage, "was the most beautiful experience I ever had."

She was walking in an isolated section of the high mountains in Arizona one afternoon, when all of the sudden there was a surprise snowstorm that hit her with more fury then any she had ever witnessed before. Within a short period of time, she couldn't walk without repeatedly falling and could no longer see ahead. Conditions were so treacherous that no cars were traveling on the road. She was freezing, blinded by snow, and totally alone. It grew dark and her body, numb with cold, kept on moving. She had no way of knowing if she remained walking on the road or off into a field. Yet, she didn't panic. She walked on. She began to hallucinate. She heard music and saw beings. She recognized one particular being as a deceased friend of hers. She concluded that it must be her time to die and that her friend had come to greet her. "You have come for me?" she asked, unafraid. Her friend shook her head "no" and motioned for her to go back. Just then, she ran into the railing of a bridge, where she soon found a large packing box with wrapping paper still in it. Slowly and with great difficulty given the numbness in her limbs, she managed to climb into the box and cover herself with the paper. Under a bridge, in a packing box, she slept peacefully while the storm raged around her.

Resourcefulness:

Ulyssean adults don't necessarily possess greater resources than their peers do. They simply use the resources available to them wisely and creatively.

The Peace Pilgrim slept in a bed when one was offered her, and wherever she could find shelter when one was not available. She made use of bridges, dilapidated barns, empty basements, culverts, haystacks, picnic tables, and cemeteries. While another might have walked by a large pipe searching for a place to bed down, she transformed it into a night's lodging by crawling inside.