Maturational Effects

I have left for last a cluster of changes that may be true maturational effects. These changes are an inherent function of the process of growing up and growing old that can speak equally to people of all ages—hopefully with an echo of recognition for readers my age, and with a note of prescience for those younger.

One key maturational change is an altered perspective on time. In youth and early adulthood one rarely thinks of time running out. Psychologically time feels limitless, so if you take one option rather than another, you can expect one day to also experience the postponed option if you still wish it. With age, one begins to rely on a time calculus: if I do X, will I ever get to do Y? If I write a book on kinship, will I ever get to do one on the sibling relationship? Will this be the last time I see Venice or Taormina? As Neugarten suggests, a shift in time perspective occurs when one passes the meridian of life, from viewing life as years since birth to viewing it as years left to live (Neugarten 1968).

Closely related to this shift in time perspective is an altered sense of one's body. Health and stamina are no longer taken for granted; they become things to work at. The sociological concepts of achievement and ascription apply here, at least in a figurative sense. In youth, one's body is an ascribed fact, a healthy instrument one does not hesitate to challenge, push to extremity, and overindulge without fear of the consequences. From middle age that body becomes an achieved fact—an instrument to listen to, tune up, pamper, and, if need be, transcend. An unusual ache or stiff back may be a harbinger of some chronic disability rather than something that will surely pass. These experiences trigger a more cautious use of energy and a reduction of the excesses of food, drink, and exercise that characterized youth. In a sense they are small rehearsals for the acceptance of the loss of close intimates—parents, spouse, and friends—and of our own death.