What’s your spirit age?
When Christie Brinkley said she felt so much younger than her 65 years, she coined a new phrase. So...
WE GRANNIES ARE FULL OF ENERGY
Lynne Franks Real age: 70. Spirit age: 30. I HAVE been in my early 30s for almost 40 years. Although clearly my body is older, my enthusiasm for new projects and my energy are the same, and my creativity is as full-on.
At 70, I am opening three new businesses, have moved to a new home and am still optimistic about love and romance.
I know good health is vital to keeping up my energy and I eat well, take the best natural supplements and stay as physically active as I have time for, with regular boxing sessions, daily dog walks, tennis lessons and dancing.
But I think it’s my love of life and excitement for what each day will bring that keep me feeling less than half my biological age.
I meet so many women in my work as a coach and mentor who are my age and planning their next career. It’s as if being grandmothers and well past the menopause has given us a new lease of life.
Laughter, love, creative ideas, hugs and a belief that we can work together to create a new and better kind of world is what keeps me and my friends spiritually 30.
IS IT TIME I FOUND A PROPER JOB?
Libby Purves Real age: 69. Spirit age: 27. IF YOU’RE a freelance, your spirit age stays shamefully young. Actors and musicians know the feeling, too, and I suspect a lot of us still unconsciously feel about 27. It’s understandable: you have never been a serious employee, corporate executive or brisk office manager; never been eligible for a company pension, sick pay, maternity leave or an unfairdismissal tribunal. So you roam the landscape as bright-eyed and wary as a weasel.
You always wonder about the next contract or the next gig, and never mind being busy; you remember how the young Roy Hudd, complaining of overwork, was told by a grand, old, end-ofthe-pier agent: ‘Roy, a full datebook is a happy pro!’
You rather relish the sense of adventure involved in professional insecurity, wondering who might try to hire you next and if you would match up to their style, or be able to tolerate the management’s notorious attitude problem.
Like a twentysomething between boyfriends, you have a giddy sense that something intriguing and wonderful might be just around the corner. And when it isn’t, you learn to laugh it off and scrounge around for anything that’s going.
Yet you’re not a callow teenager: by the mid-20s you had learned to accept nasty rejection without falling into a furious depression. At the same time, you have started to know your value and your price and nerve yourself occasionally to say: ‘No.’ But always there’s that roving eye for a new chance, and a faint sense that maybe you ought to be looking for a ‘proper job’. Even when I had two small children and lived in a field, it was impossible not to read the situations vacant column and go into some mad fantasy of retraining as a psychiatric nurse, PE teacher or automotive bodyshop manager.
And, shame to say, I still do.
I’M IN MY PRIME STILL, AREN’T I?
Roger Alton Real age: 71. Spirit age: 34. MY PASSPORT says I’m 71, but most of the time my body feels 171.
Especially in the morning (come on knees, do your stuff and get out of bed) or the afternoon (try not to snooze with your mouth open), not to mention the evening (have a shower, not a bath, or you’ll never get out). Then there’s the nights (not the bloody loo again).
All a bit embarrassing for a chap who still thinks he’s 34 — physically, socially and professionally in the prime of life, with a rich circle of sporting and friendship associates. Eh! Who are you kidding?
‘Hi guys. Any chance of a game? I heard you were short and I’ve got my kit.’
‘Actually, it’s OK. But we’d love it if you would make the tea.’
I am not alone: Sergio Parisse, veteran captain of the beleaguered Italian rugby team, was asked if he was thinking of retiring before his team played Scotland last weekend. Not really, he said. ‘In my head I’m still 16.’
I know how he feels. Now, if I can only get up and head for bed . . .
YES, THERE’S LIFE BEYOND STRICTLY
John Sergeant Real age: 74. Spirit Age: 74. I GET worried when a young person says: ‘I’m going to go round the world and try to find myself.’
This attempt is unlikely to succeed — for we have many selves, from diligent child to grumpy old man, via many other characters on the way. One of my great joys has been being able to take part in a contrasting range of activities, be it Strictly Come Dancing or reporting and, somehow, making each one my own.
To thine own self be true — but I have preferred to be true to mine own selves.My spirit age is highly variable.
Sometimes I feel like a teenager, reluctant to get out of bed in the morning. Running up stairs is now a fairly rare pleasure — I am more likely to imagine that my 90th birthday looms.
My spirit age also changes as the year progresses. At the moment I have adapted well to being 74.
I feel plenty of adventures still lie ahead. But in just over two months I will be 75, and that is a source of unease.
I think the best plan is to set my spirit age at 74 until I am ready to take stock.