Sentinel Species

Or where have all the Elders gone?

Because I’m trying to find one here; or at least create one.

I wanted to take a step back for a moment and revisit one of my main motivations in chronicling Dad’s Journey (this is mainly for my own benefit as a reminder of the deeper importance of this brand of caregiving—if you find benefit as well, then that would make me happy). I foreshadowed this in the first Dying Wiser post I wrote back in August (gosh…days can drag but the months fly by—that’s Dad Standard Time for ya I guess!):

Dying Wiser #1

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Here’s more from my own Elder teacher, Stephen Jenkinson, to remind us exactly what’s being done here:

“Getting older is inevitable. Becoming an elder is a skill. The sages seem to be departing, elections enthrone change, that’s all. The tribal lines deepen, and there is the weather and the waters, and the appearance of it all is this: there’s a rift between the generations that may not brook healing now. The old deal was ‘respect your elders, and they’ll give you reason upon reason to do so’. But that deal is all but off the table now. If you cast down all that came before you, you write the epitaph of your generation. Elders are sentinel species for humans. Like other forms of life in our corner of the world, they have mysteriously gone missing. Young people are, often involuntarily, looking for them and they can’t find them. How about this: old people are looking for them too. Because something happened. Something happened to ancestors and elders and honour.

“There’s work to be done, there’s an old wisdom to be learned where there used to be the wisdom of old. This is a session at the foot of the withering world tree. It’s for young folk and old folk, for elders in training.”

That Jenkinson quote is powerful and worth reading again.

And then again. Did you?

“…there’s a rift between generations that may not brook healing now. [If] you cast down all that came before you, you write the epitaph of your generation.”

This is a troubling and humbling development in our development as a human species. And it’s a wake up call!

“…[T]here’s a rift between generations…” In my former day job, I bore witness to this mysterious rift every day with parents who kept getting younger and younger. And less skilled to do the hard work of parenting.

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Sentinel species. Hmm….

“You want me to do what again???”

I set out to chronicle this era of Dad’s life because I felt he had some Eldering to do that he wasn’t doing—but more importantly, he had a different form of Eldering to do than the one he was living. No one needs examples of how to age poorly and die in meaningless agony and suffering—unless the students, those budding “elders in training,” know going in NOT to “do as I do.” But that kind of student has to be very astute to do that; so it hardly ever happens in reality. Instead, progeny and descendants tend to repeat the actions of their ancestors—it is, after all, the easiest road to follow because it’s the one they’ve been put on, since their birth, by those very same ancestors. It’s the only thing they are used to. And if they have grown up without an Elder presence in their lives, they don’t even know what they are missing. Which is another provocative point that Jenkinson raises: even the “Olders” are searching for Elders.

Of late, Dad’s “eldered” us mainly through his non-examples: a kind of “Don’t do as I do” kind of thing. But Dad didn’t even have access to the other part of that cliched phrase, namely: “Do as I say.”

Because he didn’t even know what to say.

Without him realizing it, Dad became an Older without an Elder in his life. And he was “involuntarily” searching for one without knowing what they look like or where to even look. In his present now, he sure would have benefitted from some wise teachings, lived examples, and “Elderings” to help him navigate his present journey.

So…THIS is my WHY for separating my service as a principal and being hired as the lone, 24/7/365 employee of Mr. Laugh-a-Minute: Wallace Francis Lenseigne. NOT to be his Elder, but to help him realize his own innate potential to Elder the rest of us through his own life, and current lived experience, as an Older on a rough journey home. Fortunately, Dad is a receptive learner which I think is evidence he knows he doesn’t know how to do “this” very well. So, as I provide him guidance, advice, or even flat out direction, he’ll abide. He trusts me, thank god, thus affirming the tables have turned in earnest between the two of us—something that never should have had to happen.

As mentioned before, no one Eldered Dad in the initiatory ways and means of aging and death. As Jenkinson continues to say:

“It’s not clear that the old know what being old is like. After all, they just got there.”

This is certainly true for Dad. He clearly didn’t know what being old was going to be like. And he got here years ago.

I don’t know exactly when Dad truly “got old.” Even though there is a temptation to feel like he just woke up one day old, which is a feature of time’s seductively slow march, I know each passing week after his retirement from farm-life showcased a diminishment in ability. I know this from Trevor who remained not just physically the closest to mom and dad in proximity, but also the most “Mcgiver-like” capable of solving any problem or issue Dad would either run into or create for himself in the home or on the small plot of land Dad kept. Every “ask” for help was a marker of vulnerability from a man we formally knew as invulnerable. Dad was getting older before our eyes—and even before his own. And he wasn’t recognizing that man in himself.

I’m certain, because I’m living it with him each day now, that he had no idea what being old was going to be like. At least, HIS version of old with the gifts of Parkinson’s and dementia a part of his Olderhood. I want to believe that had he known he really was going to get old, with these particular gifts a forever part of his olderhood, that maybe he’d have been a little more curious about how to become old with a little more skill. Because THAT would have made this journey more smooth while also turning him automatically into a more direct Elder.

Instead, we get Dad as “indirect Elder-emeritus.”

Many of the stories told so far in this blog have been stories and memories from Dad’s past, or poignant moments from the present—those I’ve elected to share so far were moments of important Eldering in and of themselves (e.g. the value of hard work; of showing up every day to do what needs to be done; of pride in workmanship; of commitment to something larger than self; etc.). Dad is still indirectly teaching as he, himself, is still learning—about how to grow old. And even, as hard as it is to say, how to die. He just needs a little help.

Eldering 101: Sentinel Species

You see, Elders have to show up. And more often nowadays, they have to be prompted to share their wisdom—some kind of perverse etiquette is relegating would-be Elders to the “waiting to be asked” crowd. But here’s the thing, NO ONE is asking them. Which is on all the rest of us. This is why Jenkinson says that young people are “involuntarily” looking for elders (btw, he implies this has nothing to do with one’s age; if you aren’t eldering, you are looking for elders—you just don’t know it.) Put another way: it’s what we don’t even know we need. We’ve lost our yearning and motivation to seek for Elders even though WE DESPERATELY NEED THEM. There are lots of reasons why this has come about. And if you stop for a moment to think about it, you’ll come to some of those realizations yourself. The fact is, and this is a generalization, we just don’t take the time to think about things like this anymore—or sadly, don’t even care to, or realize we should, even if we had the time (and note: we should always have the time!). But the truism remains:

WE DESPERATELY NEED ELDERS!

We need Elders IN our lives—not at the periphery or in places we visit only rarely, if ever.

If we don’t ponder and self-correct, or if through our apathy we remain unconcerned with the loss of these ‘northern stars,’ these Sentinel Species, we shall remain adrift and not know why; and come to finally ask ourselves at some point in our own futures, as we ourselves are preparing for our own end-of-days: “How the hell did I get here? I don’t like it here! What do I do? I DON’T KNOW HOW TO BE OLD! I DON”T KNOW HOW TO DIE!”

So, we have to show up, too, as students! Teachings exist all over the place—but the student has to show up to learn—otherwise, there can be no “teachings.” Those would just be ideas, seeds, that “had potential but failed to find fertile and receptive ground.” Students show up by opening their eyes, closing their mouths, opening their ears… and their hearts; oh, and by putting down their cell phones and taking off their AppleWatches. And the best students put into practice what they learn.

In other words…

Let me say that again: WE CREATE OUR ELDERS. We create our Elders when we become willing receptacles of their wisdom. We sustain our Elders when we spend time with them and honor the earned wrinkles, the callouses, and the scars of their life experiences. We glorify our Elders by living the principles mined from their passages through this world. Then, we, ourselves, enhance our own capacity to become Elders—if WE show up and if we serve and if we pass on the well-earned generational wisdom. As the opening quote accurately states: “the best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person.” Because they teach us how to be human.

What do YOU think it means, analogous to canaries in coal mines, to know our Elders are disappearing right in our midst and we aren’t noticing? What losses do we incur if the canary we carried down the mine with us dies and we don’t notice? Or worse, don’t even bother to look?

Did you know? The opposite of love is not anger or hatred.

The opposite of love is apathy.

I bore witness to a lot of that when I was a principal and had the privilege of serving thousands of kids and families. Apathetic parents breed apathetic kids. And apathetic kids are the hardest for teachers to reach. It was among the saddest experiences of my job. Give me an angry kid every single time over a kid who simply doesn’t care. (Well, that’s not really true. Actually, I took EVERY kid—a mantra I lived was “The child who needs love the most will ask for it in the most unlovable ways.” But you get my point, right?)

We simply cannot afford to be apathetic when it comes to our Elders as potential Sentinel Species. And the saddest part of all is that we really don’t realize exactly what we lose if we turn around one day only to discover Elders have become extinct.

I wouldn’t trade ANYTHING for what I’m doing right now, with and for Dad. And that’s because this is a very selfish act on my part.

Dad is also, and at the same time, creating me as a better human. And maybe also a future Elder—if not in the least, an Elder-in-Training. And I receive his Elderings with great pride.

In a very real and purposeful way, I am also creating an Elder in Dad. And so are you through your involvement as a reader. We are forming a community here to recognize the Elder teachings of a lifelong, now retired, farmer and current open-hearted human. But indirectly, and with more subtlety but no less importance, by engaging in knowledge such as this, we are opening ourselves up to the possibilities that exist in finding (and creating) more Elders from those among us in our daily lives. This is an exercise in waking up to a species among us who are dying out but still have so much to offer that would be to our benefit.

Isn’t it sad or alarming to understand we are losing a resource, a human resource, that we might not have ever realized we need?

“WE,” by the way, is a generalization and seems to be relegated to the dominant culture—OUR dominant North American culture that is. There are still cultures in the world, especially Indigenous, Native, and Aboriginal cultures, where this way of honoring generational wisdom remains vibrant. So the models are there for us to emulate. Should we care to do so.

It’s just too darned important to not act in three distinct ways: 1. To seek and learn from the Elders among us; 2. To create them if they are lurking in the shadows of our busy or lazy days; 3. To become one ourselves over time by sharing our wisdom—but most importantly, and just like my Dad’s own way, by embodying and simply living the core values of a kind, ethical, selfless, genuine, and open-hearted human being.

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Sentinel Species: (n); a living organism, typically a small animal, but sometimes plants, used to determine the relative “livability” of a specific environment. Sentinel species are employed to inhabit a place prior to human habitation in order to insure that environment is suitable to sustain life. Examples: think canaries in coal mines or dogs and monkeys in the early spaceships before humans flew in them.

Elders are sentinel species. They have inhabited this place; they have gone before us; they have knowledge of the “livability” of this time from their times’ past; they’ve gained, and have wisdom to share; and they are dying as “olders” instead of Elders.

And we are barely noticing.

The loss of sentinel species meant the environment was inhospitable. We are losing our Elders and they are not being replaced.

What does THAT say about the culture, time, and environment in which we live now?

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“What would an Elder [in training] look like now?” he asks.

Quick, go look in a mirror…and do something.

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T plus 124 days…and counting, and searching, and creating. Elders are among us still. If you don’t see one in the flesh, start up a conversation with someone who looks like they might have something to contribute—and then please pick up a good book—some authors make great Elders. Your Older self, and all those who come after you who might be looking for you in some future time of their need, will be very glad you did.