The relevance of irrelevance

Music is a youth-driven profession. This applies to every genre, even classical. Sure, a handful of superstars succeed in remaining in the public eye well into their seventies or even eighties, but most of the rest of us will see our careers wind down earlier than our playing ability may reflect. Our musicianship may not have decreased, but as the years crease our faces, we’re likely to see the work we once enjoyed going to younger performers.

Music isn’t the only profession that favors the young. From business executives to scientists to teachers and industry leaders, many individuals who still feel they have something to offer in their fields find themselves gently (or not so gently) eased out in favor of the next generation. I recently read an essay by a 67 year old retired business executive complaining about this very thing. Not unexpectedly, the author blamed his experience on ageism.

Ageism—like most of the other ugly “isms” out there—is ingrained in our culture.  And as a woman in her late 50s, I know firsthand how invisible and irrelevant we become to younger generations as we age. But while it can feel demoralizing to be dismissed and overlooked, I can’t shake the nagging sense that while ageism is an unfortunate part of society, it isn’t as if I didn’t benefit from it when I was young. The irrelevance I face today feels a bit like payback for the many ways I got lots of work opportunities when I was in my 20s and 30s.

There are many Boomers and older Gen Xers who are fighting back. They present cogent articles and essays. They speak of the wisdom that comes from a lifetime of experience. They address current issues, champion causes, create art, and perform music. They refuse to go silent. Sadly, however, most of the time the only people who are listening are fellow older people—many of whom are themselves pushing against invisibility.

Relevance. In this attention economy, relevance has become the catch-all word that loosely defines who gets recognition and who doesn’t. Everyone wants to be relevant; everyone wants to be heard. But relevance rarely favors the old. Most of the time it is born in the vibrant, ever-changing youth culture, finds itself supported by corporate entities, and evolves into something else just as most of society catches up to it. Trying to capture it is like trying to catch lightning in a bottle.

Relevance fades with age. And as it fades, power and recognition slip away with it. For most of us, this is an inevitable part of growing older but that doesn’t make it easy to bear. And we make it worse when we fight it. Rather than accepting the natural flow of a system we can’t change, we become angry and strident. We bray for relevance and then blame ageism when society dismisses us. Very few of us have the humility to stop begging for attention and start looking honestly at whether or not what we’re offering still applies to younger people. We are all products of the generations we belong to. The issues that formed us have changed. Technology has changed. The music industry has changed. Our abilities and skills may have declined. These are difficult things to face and accept, but I believe they’re necessary if we’re going to find ways to effectively share our wisdom with younger generations.

The task facing all of us is difficult. We have to let go of trying to be relevant. Letting go requires us to stop being angry about feeling invisible and irrelevant, and it asks us to step out of our egos and dispassionately examine what in our thinking and work is past its “best-by” date. It’s helpful if we can accept that we benefited from ageism when we were young because when we do it’s easier to stop being surprised that we’re facing the other side of it now that we’re older. And if we can accept that the gifts we have to offer at this stage of our lives will be given to others in less ego-enhancing ways, perhaps we can stop feeling diminished by our feelings of invisibility.

Here’s a radical proposal: What if we embraced the delicious freedom of irrelevance as a gift rather than an erasure? Imagine the freedom of it. The freedom of not needing to fit our opinions or talents into the current relevant container. The freedom of not having to appear or act younger than we are. The freedom to let go of a lifetime of striving for recognition and to go inward instead. The freedom to walk away from life stages in which we’re no longer living or opinions that no longer apply to us. The freedom to take off the straight jacket of Other People’s Opinions and dare to walk through life living exactly who we are with no need to be anyone else.

When we stop chasing relevance we’re free to nourish the parts of ourselves and our music that are timeless—the parts that tap into the roots of humanity. Ironically, it is only when we dare to do this that we have a shot at becoming revered elders—those whose ideas and creative expressions speak to younger generations. The trick is that there’s no trick. The elders we honor aren’t valued because they’ve made themselves relevant; they’re valued because they are absolutely and completely grounded in who and what they are today, not who they were decades ago. They’re valued because their knowledge runs so deep that it’s eternal, not temporarily relevant.

The road to joining the ranks of revered elders runs through the acceptance and (dare I say) celebration of irrelevance. There’s no shortcut. There’s no formula. There’s just the truth—the truth of the cycle of life, the truth of our own limitations, and the truth of what we can and can’t offer to others in an ever changing society. This is where we’re free to let go of our ego-driven opinions and speak instead from a foundation of truth that transcends time. This is how we find true relevance in a sea of irrelevance.

Photo by Leonardo Callegari, courtesy of UpSplash