As I turn 70, I may ache but I also feel growth, gratitude and resilience - Joe Goldblatt

On arriving in Orkney’s lovely harbour town of Stromness, I asked a local about a favourite garden that I had missed over in Thurso, Caithness.

“The council decided to replace the flowers with vegetables to feed the poor people in the town.” the resident said. I was at once shocked and also gratified that in this town where for many years local folk have suffered from unemployment the civic mothers and fathers were still evolving and adapting their public places to meet the needs of the local community.

Whilst I greatly missed the beautiful annual colourful display of tulips, poppies and peonies, I was also happy to know that – just as during World War One - a garden was being planted during difficult times to provide sustenance for those in need. As these public allotments, individually tended by local people, begin to yield fruit and vegetables they will demonstrate the resilience of humankind.

I recently celebrated my 70th spin around the sun on 4 June and I have been thinking a lot about resilience, growth, and of course gratitude.

For example, during my twenties I was blessed with plenty of boundless energy. My thirties then brought the dirty work of career and many moves to support my growing family.

My forties were filled with a last gasp of being naughty as I embarked upon adventures such as driving a horse and carriage for 200 miles to raise money for a three year old child who needed a liver transplant. My fifties were truly nifty when, for the first time, people began to defer to me and even offer me their seat on the bus.

And recently, my sixties were sensational. For the first time, I experienced multiple new sensations within my hips, knees, back, stomach and other parts of my ageing machine that began to silently cry out for new parts.

Joe Goldblatt recently turned 70 - and found there is still much to be grateful for. PIC: Pxhere.

Now, it is the age of 70 which I believe shall be truly heavenly. Although I have increased mobility challenges, such as when I kneel down to scoop our wee dog’s poop and lose my balance, I now have the wisdom of how to overcome this awkwardness and avoid falling in the excrement. As I begin to rise, I simply think that I am once again twelve years old and suddenly I defy gravity and rise miraculously to my full height in great triumph!

Meanwhile, instead of groaning as I struggle to exit a taxi I now shout “whoopee!” and I feel a new spring in my step.

This example of resilience in ageing is just one way I have grown in the past few months. Despite my natural tendency to tell stories about my own life, I have learned to delight in listening to other people’s life stories and encouraging them to further spin their tales for me by my asking the key journalist’s questions of “why, who, where, when and what?”.

These stories provide a new wide open window of human feelings and experiences that allow me to connect closely with younger generations and those of different backgrounds, despite the growing differences in our ages and life journeys.

Finally, I also see this opportunity of turning 70 as a time of daily gratitude for my – just like in Caithness - ever growing garden of earthly and spiritual delights.

As chair of the Edinburgh Interfaith Association, I have a front row seat to many different and fascinating faith traditions and practices. Recently some of our younger members discussed the Future of Faith and the role modesty has played in their religious and spiritual practices. One young woman described how she felt confused and guilty for enjoying fashion as she thought perhaps this was a sign of immodesty. However, over time she came to realise that fashion is primarily a celebration of the aesthetic, the beauty of life, and this beauty is also a pathway to experience the divine in in life. And so it is for me as well.

Whilst visiting my favourite purveyor of wool products in Kirkwall, Orkney, the proprietor of the Orkney Tweed shop sadly told me that my cherished woolen hat was no longer being produced. I have worn this hat in all kinds of weather all over the world for the past seven years and my old beloved friend was finally beginning to show its age, as I suspect I am doing as well.

The proprietor stepped to the back of the shop and produced a rain proof ladies hat with my favourite Orkney Tweed wool now royally wrapped around the crown. I immediately loved it and upon placing it atop my head my wife said “I love it. You look like the Mad Hatter.”

I was relieved and laughed out loud as I delighted in how the wool crowning my new hat perfectly matched my muffler of the same pattern. For this moment, despite the ridiculousness of wearing an over the top hat, all seemed right with the world.

Therefore, 70 is indeed heavenly as I march forward with the 21% of my fellow Scottish citizens who are over 60 and I now have a new crown to

celebrate my modest achievement.

While another individual celebrates a 70th anniversary, I was happy to share my delight that our shops were closed, a long bank holiday weekend unfolded and many street parties were held, just as my own celebration got underway. As we say in Scots upon celebrating each new year, “lang may oor lums reek!”.

Professor Joe Goldblatt is Emeritus Professor Planned Events at Queen Margaret University in Edinburgh. To learn more about his views visit www.joegoldblatt.scot