“It’s very hard to stay flexible the older you get.”
I heard Amy Poehler say that on a podcast, and she was referring to much more than limber hamstrings and open hips. This wasn’t a passing comment about why we should stretch. She was talking about something deeper. Something I’ve noticed in myself and have sensed in others.
In essence: We tend to grow increasingly tight — mentally, emotionally, and of course, physically — with age. Unless we pay attention, there seems to be an unfortunate momentum toward getting evermore stuck. Rigid. Hard. Closed.
I felt a tinge of these vibes earlier today.
My husband was confronting me about something that he (quite fairly) didn’t like, and as he spoke, I could feel a tightening in every part of my being. A wall of armor reflexively shot up. My whole system hardened — I literally braced myself — to block what I didn’t want to hear and be primed to fire back.
(PS. I love this man. I’m cringing right now.)
Some examples are less blatant.
A few weeks ago, before beginning our family’s stint in Dallas where my daughter is in intensive therapy, the facility called to tell me about a few changes to our schedule. This objectively wasn’t a big deal, but my unambiguous response at the time: “Nope! No, thank you … sorry, can’t do that!”
Turns out we could, and we did.
I think we tend to become progressively set in our ways and sure about who’s right or wrong and how things “should” be over time. Stuff happens, too. Life has a way of hardening us. It’s often in the name of self-protection. Regardless, left unchecked, this can create some trouble. Anything, or anyone, that’s too inflexible breaks.
Some of that can be counteracted by making it a priority to go the other way — or to “soften” — when we can.
In that conversation with my husband, I caught myself in the act. I noticed the crazy tension I’d activated and inwardly considered: “Could I soften right now?” The answer was yes.
My shoulders and face unclenched. My breath naturally deepened. The pause and release coaxed me off the ledge. Don’t get me wrong, part of me still really wanted to hold on. But instead, we talked about the situation and I remembered this premise: Sometimes soft is strong.
I want to be strong, and I want our relationship to be strong and positioned to grow — not break.
I’m not saying we shouldn’t have boundaries, say no, or speak up when we don’t like or agree with something. Sometimes “no” is essential; sometimes being hard is strong.
But when we notice a lot of tension (on any level), I think it’s worth inquiring: “Could I soften right now?” Just raising the question is a mindful and mighty path. Sometimes the answer will be no, sometimes it will be yes.
An unforced, genuine “yes” involves letting go of physical tightness as an entryway toward loosening our grip on the mental or emotional hang-up of the moment, too. This isn’t usually easy or comfortable. It’s vulnerable. It makes us feel things we don’t necessarily like or want.
But this opening process lends itself to growth and possibilities.
It doesn’t matter how old we are or what kind of shape we’re in — we all can be flexible and strong.