The Power of Irrelevance
You’ve probably heard an older person lament, “I’m invisible” or “I’m irrelevant.” Maybe you’ve made those statements after young people ignored you. Youngsters often look away from what they fear: the physical effects of aging. They don’t want to be old. Ever. And we get it. We don’t want to be old, either. But we have no choice. Every day the mirror delivers a horror show of wrinkles and sags to our astonished eyes. That’s not me! we squeal at our reflections.
During the first decades of my life, I judged myself by how other people reacted to me. I wanted to be noticed, to be seen as attractive and accomplished. My teen-aged, young adult, and middle-aged selves were perfectionistic overachievers. I drove myself hard, became discouraged and exhausted, then rallied for another round of self-abuse. Rinse and repeat. This might have gone on for many more years, but then I got old.
Somewhere in my late fifties, I began to understand that I was no longer relevant to young people, who were suddenly running everything. Instead of asking the most knowledgeable person in the room—namely me—they looked to their peers for ideas and information. It was disorienting. If my skills and experience weren’t notable or valuable, who was I? What was the point of me?
Those questions sent me on a quest—the inevitable result of asking questions—to identify my options. Turns out, there are endless ways for me to be a relevant human making significant contributions.
There are hundreds of nonprofit organizations in the Bozeman area. In 2023, ProPublica reported 9,463 organizations with 501(c)(3)—tax-exempt—status in the state of Montana. As an experienced writer, project manager, and musician, my older-person skills were valuable to many of these organizations. If they needed help and I had the abilities, they didn’t care how old I was. My irrelevance was, um, irrelevant.
You’re doing what? my friends exclaimed, again and again, during the next few years. They’d still be saying it if they hadn’t become so used to my strange ways. Now they simply smile, nod, and say something like, “Wow, that must be interesting.”
I’ve worked as a grant writer, executive director, newsletter editor, and events coordinator. I’ve done data entry, managed websites and social media accounts, written articles, conducted interviews, and recorded a series of oral histories for an arts organization. Some of the jobs were temporary paid positions, and some were volunteer positions. During each project, I felt highly valued. I found that being of service to others feels much better than striving for status, approval, and attention. And I discovered that being “invisible” to younger people can actually be fun and liberating.
I don’t have to think about how I look (nobody is looking) or my status in professional groups (nobody cares if I’m there) or how to behave (nobody is paying any attention). I’m free! The decisions I make are all about how to use my skills, talents, and experience in ways that make the greatest contribution to my little corner of the world.
Maybe these late-in-life years exist to help us stop judging ourselves by external reactions and standards. Frankly, it has been a relief to stop constantly thinking about me, me, me, and focus on ways to serve others.
It’s simple, really. Contact a nonprofit organization that caters to a cause you’re passionate about and ask them how you can help. The One Valley website, www.onevalley.org, includes a directory of nonprofit organizations in the Gallatin Valley. You can choose from a long list of categories that include disaster relief, seniors, animal welfare, the environment, women’s issues, veterans, arts & culture, education, and social justice.
Ultimately, my quest to serve led me into a happy place. Since I was a teenager, I’ve been interested in listening to oldsters tell their life stories. Now my work includes that, as well as providing entertainment for them. They don’t care about who I was or wasn’t in the past. They don’t care what brand of clothing I wear or which important people I may know. Some of these folks are younger than me and some are older. But we all belong in the category of “old person.” Mostly, we are ignored by the people running the world. Even so, we still have the power of choice.
I’ve chosen to stop striving for significance in a youth-obsessed society. Instead, I choose to relish the personal freedom inherent in my invisibility and irrelevance. And I choose gratitude for this miraculous life. Each and every phase of it.