I met a woman on my hiking trip to Norway who introduced me to the organization Modern Elder Academy (MEA). Their website is HERE. Meeting in Santa Fe, NM or Baja, Mexico, they offer seminars for people in their 40’s, 50’s and 60’s who are at a crossroads in their lives, wondering “what’s next?” The idea of this intensive time to contemplate the next steps in my life is very appealing, even if I rankle at the “Elder” in the name.
When I searched MEA’s website, I came across a quiz that would tell me what type of ‘elder’ I was becoming. I was shocked, but not too shocked, to find that I tested as the “Lone Wolf.”
(If you are interested, the direct link to the quiz is HERE. Just know that you will be on MEA’s mailing list and will get emails from them frequently.)
When I told my immediate family, my parents and daughters, they all chuckled and said that this tracked with their assessment of me. They saw me for who I was. Stripped of how I want to be viewed and laid out so clearly and affirmed by those closest to me, I was chagrinned.
I’m not sure why I was embarrassed by this particular designation. I thought that surely it would be better to be a “Protector” or a “Heartkeeper.” But “better” has no place here. These eight different pathways of elderhood just are; there is no judgement.
As in most personality assessments that I have taken, I probably tested across the board. Reading the description of each type, I self-identified with the “Phoenix,” the “Impact Maker,”and the “Stormwalker.” But “Lone Wolf” was at the fore.
One portion of the description of the “Lone Wolf” really resonated with me—the propensity to go it alone, trusting in my own inner wisdom more often than seeking advice from others.
However, one of the drawbacks for the Lone WoIf is lack of community. Even though I know that I value my autonomy and independence, I also value my friends and family and my wider community. I feel fairly confident that I will continue to make community a priority. I don’t see myself seeking solitude all the time or neglecting relationships as you would expect a true Lone Wolf to do.
I do see the possibility that my independence could be a hinderance in other aspects as I age. I tend not to ask for help. I can do it myself. If there is some task that I can’t do, I will either decide it’s not important or else reluctantly break down and ask. But I don’t like to do that. I am better at accepting help when it’s offered, but even then, I can imagine scenarios as I get older of my community offering to assist me, but me declining it. It’s not that I feel it’s a sign of weakness. It’s truly believing that I can do anything that needs doing. There’s some chutzpa for you!
But what happens if I decline to the point that I can’t take care of myself? Would I be willing to ask or accept help then, or would I continue to try to find workarounds or ignore the need? I truly don’t know, and I hate thinking about it. I also hate thinking that I might become a lonely old woman so bent on maintaining my autonomy and independence that I push people away who genuinely want to help me.
Maybe I should start practicing asking for help. Anybody out there willing to come clean my bathrooms every week? Or edit these musings?