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Active Aging and Self-Esteem

Adjunct Associate Professor of Education and Gerontology University of Southern California 978 Kent Street Altadena, CA 91001 E-mail: philipspradling{at}alumni.usc.edu

Learning to Fly: The Wings of Possibilities. Video/1999/28 min. Directed and produced by Bill Jersey. Distributed by Aquarius Health Care Videos, 18 North Main Street, Sherborn, MA 01770. 888-440-2963. Online: www.aquariusproductions.com. E-mail: info{at}aquariusproductions.com. Purchase $90.

The video opens with the following graphic: "The sedentary life is a sin against the Holy Spirit."—Friedrich Nietzsche.

At 62, Sam Keen learned to fly. This author of classic works from the men's movement, Fire in the Belly: On Being a Man and Inward Bound: Exploring the Geography of your Emotions, brought the dream of a 9-year-old boy to life on a flying trapeze. Keen built a trapeze on his farm, and, joined by a community of equally unlikely flyers, learned the skills of the trapeze. Joining him was Tony Steele, one of the world's great trapeze artists of the 1950s. Steele had not flown in many years, and for some time had been depressed, mourning the death of his wife.

Keen's interest was piqued when he read an advertisement in the newspaper: "Do you want to run away to the circus? Well, you don't have to. Come and learn the art of the trapeze." He went once and returned simultaneously shaken to the bone with fear and possessed with the thought of flying. Since his first trip to the circus at age 9, he had held the image of a suspended trapeze artist in his mind. Keen decided to return for one last look at the trapeze artists. Before long he was hooked; eventually, he reports that he was "mainlining trapeze acts."

An unlikely flyer in his seventh decade, Keen is dyslexic, has a lanky build (most flyers are short and compact), and was not in shape when he began training. Keen admits how difficult it was to overcome his fear of heights. He also summarizes his bouts of tendonitis and bursitis as he trained his "trapeze muscles," which fall into disuse by those of us limited to earthly pursuits. One accident along the way was a spectacular fall that resulted in an injured spine and a two-week break from physical activity. Despite this setback, he resumed training—dedicated to the art of trapeze.

Keen is brimming with metaphors. Flying is like living ... flying is a lived metaphor, a metaphor of transcendence ... changing position in midair is like responding to life's uncertainties. Still, the metaphors ring true.

Viewers are treated to extraordinary moves on the trapeze by Tito Gaona, a contemporary flyer, and the struggling, though successful efforts of Keen, and his "community of mutual dreamers." In Keen's words, "the great flyers have always been great fallers. You should learn how to fall before you learn the trick." An acknowledged risk taker, Keen—as a young man—was coached by the French philosopher Gabriel Marcel to "only take interesting risks." Keen reports, "A lot of people have told me about their clandestine dreams; they are almost always about freedom and the joy of letting go and of utilizing a hidden talent." One member of the flying community is a petite woman who, debilitated by a life-threatening virus, began her trapeze work weighing 92 pounds. Two years later, she has recovered from her illness, weighs more than 100 pounds, and credits her return to health to the discipline of learning the trapeze.

Keen literally "journaled" his way to success on the trapeze. The process taught him to be a connoisseur of his own fear. He asked himself, "Where do I put my fear? What is the nature of it?" Often our fears have to do with feeling the fool. For Keen, the solution to fear is not the macho approach of, "I can do anything." Keen suggests that we must acknowledge and even befriend our fears. He believes that we overcome the obstacles that prevent us from spreading our wings only by taking an unflinching approach that resists yielding to those fears. Keen adds a caution, however: "It's not a matter of shunning our fears. We have to know when to listen to fear through lots of practice." At one point in his training, Keen recounts a particular block he had to letting go of the trapeze bar (which he gripped under his knees) to join arms with his partner. Upon reflection he decided that letting go was part of learning and aging. Keen says, "Every time I come to a new challenge, I'll have to let go more and more ... [and] let go of my fear of trying again."

Trapeze work is not about lofty goals; it is not even about athleticism. Like living into old age, it is about day-in, day-out practice. Great artists are not made overnight. They put in the sweat equity first, and then, perhaps, something surprising will result. Learning to Fly would make a useful springboard for conversation in gerontology courses, for gerontologists to reflect upon their own aging, for elder-issues discussion groups, or for spiritual or religious study groups. Keen's journal notes soon became a book—Learning to Fly: Trapeze Reflections on Fear, Trust and the Joy of Letting Go. Perhaps it is best to close with Keen's own words from this book:

Every day we begin again, knowing that danger and death may be lurking, and we will be fearful and have to cultivate courage. We will need to keep our balance and discern when it's time to wait and when to act. We will take leaps of faith [and] fall and rise again. And if we're diligent in our practice, there will be unexpected moments of grace and joy, a gradual growth of mastery in fashioning our lives into something of beauty.

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