They say change gets more difficult as we get older--each year we're more stuck in our ways, more reluctant to learn something new.
A recent study published in the Journal of Neuroscience suggests that one reason it gets harder to learn new things--or even to remember where we put our keys-is the result of the loss of certain structures in brain cells called "spines"--tiny spiky projections on the nerves that make connections with other nerves. So, basically, my little brain nerves aren't communicating with each other the way they once did. They're getting, well, set in their ways--more and more ambivalent about chit-chatting.
Other studies suggest there's a remedy.
When some friends in Portland read that learning new things keeps us young-staving off Alzheimer's and age-related neurological changes by building up our brain's "cognitive reserves"--they started a monthly Saturday Salon dedicated to random education.
One month they might get together and learn to use power tools, the next month they'd create mosaics, and the next month they'd gather for theatrical training and learn to speak with British accents.
I totally admire one of my son's grandmothers: A master knitter for decades, we noticed no needles out the last time we visited. "I got tired of it," she shrugged. "I took up the recorder instead."
How many people do you know who take up a new instrument when they're grandparents?
She seems to know instinctively what neuroscientists are just figuring out: The connections between brain cells can grow stronger or weaker and, with the right stimulation, cells can even sprout new connections.
I wonder if trying to stay young was part of my unconscious motivation when, on the brink of turning 40 this year, I sold my house in the Pacific Northwest, bought a vintage trailer, and moved my family across the country to start a new business I knew virtually nothing about in a town where I know almost no one.
Not wanting to get stuck in my ways.
Onward with my study in living.
Or just restless and kind of wacky?
I've always been a traveler, but I've set up house here and there. Still, ten years in one place was a rain-drenched record.
My restlessness was nothing unusual. According to Pew research, half of all Americans would like to live someplace else.
But do big changes and new skills really keep us young?
Or do we just spend our new so-called "cognitive reserves" trying to find the bank?
As I begin to navigate a new sunny town and learn the ropes of a new candle shop business, I have to admit that I'm not as flexible as I once was. I find myself at turns captivated by the beauty and novelty of it all, and fairly disoriented and stressed out.
How many Our Lady of Guadalupe candles should I order--and how many Turkish evil eye beads?
And where can you get a good vegan burrito around here?
I've never been socially outgoing, but I suspect I've gotten more and more ambivalent about making new friends. I'm irritated by how-do-you-do chit-chat, but that's how new relationships usually begin.
I try to meditate on my brain action: Are those new cells I feel spouting? Or is it just an elevation headache?
Either way, I'm bound to learn something new.
