An old dog can learn new tricks

No matter your age, step outside your comfort zone and have a go at something different that you’ll love. Stay interested and you’ll be interesting your whole life, writes Mark Barnes

As you get older, your outlook on life changes. In some ways you have more choices, in other ways far fewer. One thing most of us are going to enjoy (or despise — there is choice involved) is a much longer life than our ancestors. Life expectancy has more than doubled globally over the last century, and is still going up, though at a lower rate. One consequence is that we’re going to have more time on our hands. More time to think about where we’ve come from and, more importantly, where we’re going to. It’s really important to get that balance right.

Don’t, for goodness sake, live in your past. If someone asks you who you are, don’t tell them who you used to be. I used to do that a lot. I still do it a bit. It sucks. If someone asks where you’re going, they’re not interested in where you’ve come from. Seriously.

There are lots of things I would’ve, could’ve, should’ve done. I had more opportunities than most.

I sometimes indulge myself in a fest of music-video watching, back to back, mostly the same ones, with occasional additions, a familiar place that I go to alone. I did so last Sunday.

I submit to the music, to the voices and instruments and compositions, to the genius of the guitar solo. It remains beyond my grasp, though, to understand how someone can make that stuff up in their heads.

The workings of the mind have always fascinated me, and at the peak of that mountain of interest is the concept of original thought. The word sequence you’re reading now is original, but it is somehow nowhere near the beauty, the complexity, and the simplicity of music. As I allow myself to be swallowed up by the music fest there’s always a point, beyond appreciation and admiration, where I try to imagine myself actually experiencing it, doing it. A kind of extreme interest. As I get deeper, I enjoy it more. Art is not quite as powerful for me, but it’s also there.

These worlds of primal creativity seem far away from the structured world of finance in which I chose to spend my past. I wonder sometimes whether there is that much difference.

I’m not convinced of any either-or certainty in the analysis of how left-braindominant people are more logical and structured, and like mathematics and science and predictable outcomes, whereas rightbrainers are more creative and into art and music and such like. If it is either-or, then being right-side dominant sounds a lot more fun.

I think we all have a bit of both halves, or we can at least flip-flop from one to the other.

Everything (pretty much) I’ve done in my life so far suggests left-brain dominance, but it’s clear to me that my right side has been left out in the cold all of these years, and it’s certainly looking for a turn to be in charge. We don’t have to be same-same forever.

It’ll probably take 10 years to become really proficient at something new (not that proficiency is the test, or even the purpose). So what? Almost no matter how old you are, if you’re reading this, you’ve got time to embark on something new that you’ll love, different beyond everything you’ve tried so far, even if you’re already 65.

It doesn’t have to be a second career, and it may not have to earn you a living. In fact, most later-life pursuits have their rewards measured in currencies other than money. Perhaps the most significant of these is purpose.

For so many people who retire (particularly from positions of authority and influence), it can come as a rude awakening to realise you’re not really wanted any more. At first when you go back to the office to “visit the team” you’ll still feel respected. They listen to your war stories and laugh at your jokes. That doesn’t last, and, in the name of progress, it shouldn’t.

I’ve just started reading An Obsession With Butterflies by Sharman Apt Russell, first published nearly 20 years ago. The book is described by the Boston Herald as a “captivating blend of science, history and wonder”, which proves, I’d like to think, that left- and right-brain influences can come together to create a more enjoyable read, without compromising the scientific base to the story. Thankfully, the author primarily uses common rather than scientific names for the various species, which contributes to the easier flow of the read. Why should you get stuck on Heliconius melpomene when “postman” (the common name) will do?

The point is that we should neither be scared to tread outside our comfort zones nor be put off, as we often are, by the fancy barrier words of experts seeking to preserve their relatively exclusive clubs (like bad mathematics teachers do).

Go on, have a go! Try something new, even if it’s just at hobby level. Stay with it, stay interested and you’ll stay interesting. It’s your life — you only die once.