By Natasha Josefowitz, Ph.D.
LA JOLLA, California — Frank entered my apartment and was surprised to find me writing this column long hand. “I can’t believe you’re not using the computer,” he said, looking puzzled and disapproving. I suddenly felt like a dinosaur, falling back to the stone age in one big swoop.
“I write faster long hand,” I replied apologetically. However, I continued to feel defective and wondered in what other ways I’m not keeping up with the times. I work at becoming technologically savvy, but cannot keep up with the daily innovations that are second nature to my grandchildren. I need to rewire my old brain; it resists any changes to how my neurons connect to each other. My synapses are not only slower, they have a tendency to forget by the next day what I have just learned.
In two seconds flat, it feels like my generation went from braces to dentures, from reading under the covers with a flashlight to reading a menu in a restaurant using a smartphone flashlight, from pushing a baby carriage to pushing a walker, from needing a pediatrician to finding a geriatrician, from finding good day care for our children to looking for elder care for our aging parents, from a first job to a retirement party, from a bone broken playing soccer to a hip broken falling down the stairs, from running to shuffling, from first home to senior housing, from first love to remembering love, from looking to the future with the hopes and fears of the unknown to the remorse and regrets and, yes, all the good memories of the past.
We long for what we learned over a lifetime and for what we are comfortable with. Instead we are thrown to the wolves of technology, eaten alive by acronyms such as LOL—does it mean laugh out loud or lots of love? I choose the latter. Today’s emojis seem just like the hieroglyphics of our Egyptian ancestors. From clay tablets to papyrus to the Gutenberg press to the typewriter to the computer, and now, to voice recognition.
While we need to adapt to change, which today happens with mind-boggling speed, some people have an easier time than others. The real issues are choosing to adapt as well as the ability to adapt. Change requires commitment, knowledge, and skill. Commitment is a willingness to take the time and energy needed to move on. Knowledge includes understanding why change is needed and what exactly it may entail. Skill is the ability to perform that task. Some people may be willing, but not able; others are able, but not willing.
Life flows like a river into which you cannot step twice. In order to embrace change, there has to be some benefit to us or to others, some significance, a reason to do it. We tend to accept change easier if it done by us, not to us. Usually with gain there is also loss—loss of the familiar, of the feeling of competence as we go into the unfamiliar, the unknown and become learners again.
Studies have shown that there are three traits that remain constant for one’s life: shyness, eagerness for novel experiences, and friendliness. People tend to retain a basic core of their innate personalities. Even though I am wiser as a I grow older, I am also “none the wiser!” I still give my grandchildren unsolicited advice and speak my mind sometimes when it is not appropriate. I am still working on being less impatient and judgmental.
Epigenetics demonstrates that the events in our lives also contribute to changes in our brains and, therefore, impact our feelings and behaviors. Jonas Salk once said, “We are forever evolving.” So, yes, we can recognize our youthful selves, but we can also marvel at who we have become and are still becoming, evolving into our better selves, less concerned about what people think of us, less preoccupied with trivialities, more confident, better attuned to the needs of others, and able to respond accordingly. We are also more accepting of what life has in store for us.
Because I write this column, people assume I know more than I actually do and so I am asked to test various new technologies that may help seniors who are living alone and isolated. I am grateful to be used as a guinea pig and happily participate in this new world of high tech. Within my lifetime I have gone from horse-drawn carriages to self-driving cars. From yesterday’s writing long-hand to today’s voice-to-text, the only constant is change. So start smiling whenever someone says “you look great,” and keep smiling as they add “for your age.”
© Natasha Josefowitz. This article appeared initially in the La Jolla Village News. You may comment to natasha.josefowitz@sdjewishworld.com