Walter came to his first class the week after his seventy-fourth birthday. His daughter had given him a pack of ten classes and he said he came mostly so the gift would not go to waste. Three years later he sits with us every Tuesday morning.
The first class
He sat on a chair at the back, near the door. He told me afterwards he spent the whole forty minutes thinking about his late wife, his garden and whether he had left the stove on.
I told him that was a very good first class. He did not believe me, but he came back the next week to find out what I meant.
“I thought I was too old to start. It turns out I was just old enough.”
What changed
He says he sleeps better, but that is not what he talks about. He talks about noticing things: the light on the garden in the morning, the sound of the kettle, his grandchildren's faces when they are telling him something.
He also says he is kinder to himself. At seventy-seven he has stopped arguing with his knees and started listening to them.
Walter's practice
What he does every morning
1
Sits in the same armchair by the window.
2
Sets the kitchen timer for fifteen minutes.
3
Counts ten breaths, then starts again at one.
4
Writes one line in a notebook before breakfast.
Why later, not sooner
When I asked whether he wished he had started younger, he laughed and said no. At forty he would have treated it like another job to be good at. At seventy-four he had nothing left to prove, so he could just sit.
Our Tuesday morning class is gentle, chair-based and open to every age. Walter will probably save you a seat.
