on turning 70

by Aliza Arzt

When I was a child and car odometers were mechanical rather than electronic, it was always exciting to watch the digits change as they slowly turned during the last tenth of a mile on their way to a new number.  It was especially exciting when we were privileged to watch the transition from 99,999 to 100,000.  Since I was born at the end of the calendar year, I’ve had a similar experience, watching 2025 roll by with plenty of time to reflect and anticipate my approaching entrance to my eighth decade.
 
To me, 70 seems a more weighty milestone than any of the big digit changes that have arrived in the past. In order to help me process it, I’ve thought about what Jewish tradition has to say about this number, as well as my personal thoughts about what this milestone means to me. 
           
One of the most famous references is from Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) where, in chapter 5 verse 21, Rabbi Judah ben Temah discusses what characterizes each age:

He used to say: At five years of age the study of Torah;
At ten the study of Mishnah;
At thirteen subject to the commandments [i.e. B’mitzvah age];
At fifteen the study of Talmud;
At eighteen the bridal canopy;
At twenty for pursuit [of livelihood];
At thirty the peak of strength;
At forty wisdom;
At fifty able to give counsel;
At sixty old age;
At seventy “שֵׂיבָה”
(translated as “fullness of years” and also as “white haired old age”). . . 

This does sound as if we are near the end of the line at 70!
 
I can still take some comfort from what Proverbs (16:31) has to say about this milestone:

  עֲטֶ֣רֶת תִּפְאֶ֣רֶת שֵׂיבָ֑ה בְּדֶ֥רֶךְ צְ֝דָקָ֗ה תִּמָּצֵֽא׃

Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is attained by the way of righteousness

Even though our ancestors in Genesis seem to have lived extraordinarily long lives, by the time we reach the book of psalms, the prediction is much more realistic:

 
יְמֵֽי־שְׁנוֹתֵ֨ינוּ בָהֶ֥ם שִׁבְעִ֪ים שָׁנָ֡ה וְאִ֤ם בִּגְבוּרֹ֨ת ׀ שְׁמ֘וֹנִ֤ים שָׁנָ֗ה וְ֭רׇהְבָּם עָמָ֣ל וָאָ֑וֶן

כִּי־גָ֥ז חִ֝֗ישׁ וַנָּעֻֽפָה׃
Although we may live to be seventy, perhaps eighty granted strength,
our best efforts are but toil and foolishness;
they quickly come apart and drift away (Ps. 90:10)

In this part of our country, many of us are blessed with decades of a healthy and productive life.  If we have children, they are often home with us for a total of 2 decades or more and during that time, our lives settle around the rhythms of child-rearing.  When our children leave, we have more decades of productive work and community engagement.  This activity comes to feel familiar and eternal to us. I find, as I reach the age of 70, that I reflect more on the “end game” of life.  I have more years of productive adulthood behind me than ahead of me.  Things ache that didn’t hurt in the past and thoughts flee from my mind more quickly than they did before.  I find myself asking myself questions that I have no need to ask at this time, though they arrive in my mind periodically anyway:  What will I do when I can’t get into my claw-foot bathtub anymore? What’s going to happen to my books? My pets? My “stuff”?  Believe me, this is not a useful line of inquiry to take given the fact that I have no significant health or cognitive challenges at this time, but they come to mind anyway.
 
In my opinion, the most important question to consider at this time of my life is how to walk the boundary between reveling in the productivity of my current life now that I don’t have to spend time raising children and working while at the same time putting my affairs in order for my eventual demise?  Once again, I turn to Psalm 90 for comfort and advice:

 
לִמְנ֣וֹת יָ֭מֵינוּ כֵּ֣ן הוֹדַ֑ע וְ֝נָבִ֗א לְבַ֣ב חׇכְמָֽה׃
 
Teach us to apportion our days,
that we may come to have a heart of wisdom (Ps. 90:12)

The key word here is “לִמְנ֣וֹת” which is usually translated as “to number”, but more accurately means “to portion out”.  What is still meaningful to me in my life to do for my own edification and to help my community? As I review what I’ve accumulated in knowledge and wisdom during the decades of my adulthood, what legacy do I want to leave and to what extent can I take an active role in crafting that legacy?  Each of us has a different answer to these questions.  To my mind, the most important thing is to ask these questions and to contemplate the answers that arrive.
 
My response to these questions has been fourfold:

• to enjoy and connect with my family.

We are fortunate to be free of significant interpersonal pain and conflict.  I have a spouse and children that I admire and respect and we work together to make sure that we have time to enjoy and engage with each other.

• to continue to learn and explore new pathways.

Although I don’t have the memory skills of my youth, I study Cantonese and Arabic every evening, spend 2 days a week studying the Qur’an and reading meaningful non-fiction books about which I take copious notes in order to be able to access the content at will.  I continue to teach about topics that interest me and that seem to interest the community as well.

• to devote time to my close and extended communities.

            My strong engagement with the Havurah continues. Of necessity, within the last year, I’ve increased political action and community care by driving people to appointments, writing letters, making phone calls and patrolling my city in case there’s a need to witness and document kidnapping and assaults on my neighbors.  I’m finding ways to productively express my distress about what’s going on in Gaza along with my hopes for an Israel of my dreams.

• to preserve the results of my learning in a form accessible to interested people.

            I’m writing about topics that I’ve taught about in the past, for which I currently have only a source sheet, in order to produce a document that explains my train of thought, ideas and conclusions in a way that’s accessible to anyone who’s interested.  I’m still hoping to write an annotated Siddur Birkat Shalom to explain about the changes we’ve made in the liturgy during the past 40+ years.
 
There will come a day when carrying out some or all of these activities is beyond me, just as running up and down the stairs or carrying a 50 pound load is no longer an option.   I continue to hope that when this happens I’ll have the insight and understanding to pivot to other activities that are within my reach and to always be able to fulfill my goal of living a meaningful life

Aliza Arzt is a long-time member of Havurat Shalom.