Aging Together: A Journey of Friendship and Pickleball

 

Growing old together means you’ll always have someone to remind you where you left your glasses… because I’ll probably be sitting on them.

Arun Kumar

Arun Kumar + AI: Aging Together

Summary: In a retirement community, a group of us ‘aged people’ arrived around the same time, sharing the journey of settling in and embracing new activities like pickleball. Over time we will grow older together. Though we’re all beginners now, our skills and interests will mature differently, and our paths will diverge. Yet, our true connection lies in aging together. Slowly, our chats will turn from playful banter to comparing aches and pains of old bodies, eventually becoming watchers on the sidelines observe the new arrivals go through a similar drill.

Recently, moving into a retirement community marked the start of a new chapter for us. Although I’m still working, we made the transition for a couple of reasons: to settle into a place where we want to retire while we’re still active and capable of handling the challenges of a big move, and to escape the long, cold winters of our previous home.

We’re now settling in, and part of this process involves engaging in the variety of activities offered by our new community, a 55+ retirement community. While we do that, I’m starting to realize that, as I age, I’ll be sharing a unique journey with fellow retirees — especially those who, like us, arrived around the same time.

We’ve started to establish new routines and friendships, including our introduction to pickleball — a game that we newcomers are all learning to play. For now, we’re united by our inexperience and eagerness to try something new, making each misstep and missed shot part of the fun (and, occasionally, the cause of an audible curse).

As we get our feet wet together, I realize that, over time, some of us will progress faster than others, and our skill levels in pickleball will start to vary. Some will join more experienced players as they advance, others may be content staying where they are, and still others may decide it’s not their cup of tea and move on to try different activities.

But regardless of where our pickleball skills take us, one thing will remain constant: we will age together. Gradually, our conversations will shift from discussing games and learning new skills to comparing aches and pains, sharing doctor recommendations, and reflecting on changes we never anticipated. Over time, as we become less active players and more spectators, our courtside chats will evolve into quieter observations from the sidelines.

Our shared aging would be woven into the life of getting older in this community. None of us arrived here in our youth — we are all here precisely because of the stage of life we’re in — old. Our being here is contingent of being over 55 and we are required to provide evidence for it (e.g., the drivers license).

Our shared aging is part of the fabric of life in this community. None of us arrived here in our youth — we’re all here precisely because of the stage of life we’re in: older adulthood. Our residence here is contingent on being over 55, something we even had to verify (for example, with a driver’s license).

As us, the old people get older together, our days will be marked by shared experiences, and mutual support that the process of aging requires. In the end, this gradual, graceful aging will be our common bond, reminding us that while each of us may have our own aches and individual journeys, we are also on a journey together. Towards that, pickleball is just an excuse for greater adventures.

As we, the older generation, continue aging together, our days will be shaped by shared experiences and the mutual support that growing older requires. In the end, this gradual, graceful aging will be our common bond, reminding us that, while each of us has our own aches and individual journeys, we are also on a shared path. On that journey, pickleball is just the beginning of adventures yet to come.

Ciao, and thanks for reading.

Balancing Novelty and Memory: Lessons from Larry

 

Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards — Søren Kierkegaard

Arun Kumar

Arun Kumar + AI: Balance

Summary: Without memory retention, everything is done the first time, and it could make life interesting. However, this state of being also brings forth a paradox of balancing novelty, memory, and identity. While novelty brings excitement and growth, memory provides stability and a sense of self. Without memory of our past, we would struggle to form deeper connections and an identity. This highlights the importance of balancing new experiences with memory and having a fulfilling life.

Meeting Larry

We finally took the leap and moved to a 55+ retirement community. There were several reasons behind our decision: a desire to escape extended winters and avoid being homebound for a good part of the year; a wish to settle down in a place where we might eventually retire while our bodies and minds are still functioning well; and the appeal of being in a setting that offers ample opportunities for social interactions.

So far, living in this community has been a pleasant experience. The little pond behind our home offers a blend of tranquility, and there are plenty of social activities to choose from. Being here also gave us the chance to meet a fellow resident, Larry. This is a little story about Larry and the life lessons be brought home.

We don’t have any background on Larry and only come across him during our walks. The curious thing about our encounters is that each time we meet, it’s a novelty for him. Perhaps due to the impairments of old age, Larry might be having trouble remembering. At the beginning of each meeting, we go over the same pleasantries again. This repetitive yet novel experience has led me to ponder a paradox: each day is a new experience for Larry, but at the same time, he lacks the continuity of time and the memories that define the self. Given that, what is the utility of novelty for him?

Memory and Who We are

Memory plays a crucial role in shaping our identity. It is through our recollections of the past that we build a sense of continuity and self-awareness. For Larry, however, each day is a blank slate. This raises an interesting question: Is the perpetual novelty of Larry’s experience beneficial, or is there a need for a balance between novelty and the retention of memory?

On the one hand, the novelty of each day for Larry can be seen as a positive aspect. Every interaction is fresh and untainted by the baggage of past experiences, allowing him to live in the moment. This can be particularly beneficial in a retirement community, where the focus is often on enjoying the present, making the most of each day, and trying to brush aside the angst of our finite existence.

However, the lack of memory retention also poses challenges. Memories provide a framework for understanding our place in the world and our relationships with others. Without a clear notion of the past, Larry might struggle to form deeper connections and maintain a coherent sense of self.

Is There an Optimal Place?

The paradox of Larry’s situation underscores a broader truth about life: the need for a balance between novelty and memory. Novelty brings excitement and a sense of discovery, which are essential for growth. It keeps life interesting, prevents stagnation, and makes us look forward to getting out of bed in the morning. On the other hand, memory provides stability and a sense of identity. It allows us to learn from our experiences and build meaningful relationships. However, the capacity of our brains is finite. In the end, we cannot carry everything from the past along. Some memories need to be let go to make room for new experiences.

While not remembering anything and allowing each day to be a novel experience in bad, being forever burdened by everything from the past is not good either.

As we age, this balance becomes particularly important. It allows us to have new experiences while selective retention of memories helps maintain a sense of continuity and identity. A well-lived life is an intricate optimization problem. All aspects of our well-being require balance and moderation — neither too little nor too much exercise is good; both overeating and undereating are harmful; and too much or too little sleep is detrimental.

On one of our upcoming walks, we’ll run into Larry again. Instead of the usual, “Long time, no see. How have you been?” we’ll simply say, “Nice to meet you,” giving Larry the pleasure of a fresh experience. It’s the least we can do.

Ciao, and thanks for reading.

Eternal Bodies, Finite Minds, and the Notion of Reincarnation

 

I did not believe in reincarnation in my past life, and I still don’t — Woody Allen

Arun Kumar

Arun Kumar + AI

Summary: Imagine a world where our bodies are immortal, but our brains have finite capacity. In this scenario, life would become a cycle of forgetting and re-learning, much like reincarnation but without the retention of past memories. With cognitive limits in place, perpetual rediscovery could ensure that life, despite its lack of temporal boundaries, remains dynamic and engaging rather than becoming a tale of boredom.

Immortality

It is the opposite of the finiteness of our existence — a finiteness that, once encountered and internalized, has the potential to shake our comfortable, often unexamined lives. The realization of our finiteness has led to many profound (and mundane) explorations and inventions throughout human history, including religion, various constructs of the afterlife, reincarnation, fortune telling, and dreams of finding the fountain of youth.

The notion of immortality in this discussion focuses on the physical body. It does not concern the continuation of our soul or self in any form; these concepts may simply be constructs to soften the harsh reality of our finiteness.

Can We Become Immortal?

The immortality of the physical self may not be such a far-fetched idea. With medical and technological advancements, most of our body parts might become replaceable. The possibility of 3D-printed body parts may not remain science fiction for much longer. Just as we walk into an auto parts store to buy a replacement for a worn-out windshield wiper, imagine one day walking into a human body shop, providing the required genetic information, and walking out with a new thumb to replace the one feeling twinges of arthritis.

There is, however, a part of our existence — the brain — that has unique limitations. Even if it could be considered physically immortal, its functional capacity has limits.

What About the Brain?

The brain is always working, constantly communicating with different parts of the body to keep us alive. It stores our memories, experiences, and everything we have learned. For humans, it is the seat of our consciousness. With its neurons and the connections between them, the brain is the organ that creates the self. Ultimately, however, the brain’s capacity for information is finite.

For all the intricate functions it performs, the brain has high energy requirements. This small, three-pound organ consumes 20% of the body’s energy. One could imagine that adding or augmenting the brain’s capacity and functionality would only increase its energy demands. Another unique aspect of the brain is that unlike other bodily organs, the brain — and what resides and occurs within it — uniquely defines who we are.

Following this chain of thought, a plausible scenario is that while the physical parts of the self could be immortal, the brain’s capacity and functions might remain limited.

A Counterfactual World

Let us indulge in imagining a world where our physical bodies are immortal, but our brains have finite capacity.

In such a world, our capacity to retain past experiences and memories would be limited. As we accumulate memories and knowledge, we would eventually reach a point where new information could only be retained at the expense of letting some go. This would lead to a cyclical pattern of learning and forgetting, somewhat akin to the notion of reincarnation. We live, accumulate memories that help define the self, die, and when we are reborn, nothing is remembered, and we start from scratch to build a new self.

The cycle of learning, forgetting, and relearning might seem tedious, but it has a silver lining. Even with immortality, we would not face eternal boredom or a lack of novelty. Despite the repetition, the human capacity for novelty and pleasure would persist. Each cycle would allow us to rediscover activities and experiences, deriving joy from them as if they were new. This perpetual rediscovery could sustain our engagement with life, even as our cognitive limits constrain our ability to retain all our experiences.

Sounds Like We are Talking About Reincarnation

Functionally, this existence would mirror reincarnation, with each cycle offering a fresh perspective unburdened by the weight of past memories. The finite nature of our cognitive capacity would necessitate a continuous renewal of our experiences, ensuring that life remains dynamic and engaging along with our immortal bodies.

In conclusion, while physical immortality with a finite brain capacity presents challenges, it also offers a unique form of existence where the joy of discovery and the novelty of experiences can perpetually renew our engagement with life.

The same is true for our finite existence — it is the joy of learning, discovery, and novel experiences that help us age gracefully and ensure a sense of vitality and interest. The challenge, of course, is to balance our desire to thrive with our awareness of mortality, without letting the latter become overwhelming.

Ciao, and thanks for reading.

Having the fortitude...

It was eons ago -
(or it seems to be so) -
I was bicycling
through the lanes of Lucknow:
some narrow, some broad,
some brightly lit,
and others, pitch dark.

Then, I neither knew
where I’d be fifty years from then
nor had the fortitude
to even ask.

And today,
here I am,
fifty years later,
just realizing:
it has been a good journey.
It could have been worse,
but thankfully, it was not.

The least I can do
is to have the fortitude now

to thank the universe for that.