Inspiration

When I turned 40, I decided to write reflections on the day-to-day things that add up to a life; these were published in a monthly newspaper column for the Monadnock Ledger-Transcript for a decade. In 2018, as I approached my 60th birthday, I decided to take up my pen once again and thought it would be fun to juxtapose new reflections with the ones I wrote 20 years ago. Thanks for coming on the journey!

60: (February 2024)

Two-thirds of the way into my first year of retirement, I find myself wrestling with how to best use the time before me in a way that matters. The word ‘retirement’ evokes feelings of, well, just that: retiring—taking it easy, slowing down, leaving work behind. But that’s not really in my nature; I like work. I’ve always generally enjoyed what would be described as work, because I’ve usually had some sort of passion for what I was doing. Yet, I am truly delighted at being ‘retired’ because I love the feeling of freedom I have now. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do anything meaningful for the rest of my life.

Is it enough to strive to be a good family member, wife, or friend at this point in time? Seems like the answer is no; there is too much wrong in the world not to still try to make a positive contribution in whatever ways might be possible. If I’m lucky, I might have another 30 or so years of life to live; so what is the best use of that time? There is an impulse within me to connect to the greater world, to contribute. There is also an impulse within me to make music and to write. But should I consider that a ‘contribution’? Is it worth anything? I don’t know, but I seem to be driven to do it, so that will undoubtedly continue to be part of what I focus on for the present time.

It is better to make an effort to contribute to the greater good in whatever ways we can during our lifetime than not to try at all. Most of us will only do this in small ways, and that may have to be good enough, because we can only do what we can do. We cannot all be a Martin Luther King Jr, an Alexei Navalny, Amanda Gorman, or Greta Thunberg. But we can strive to be our best, our highest selves. While we may not all be capable of becoming global changemakers, there are many good people in the world doing loving, generous, meaningful acts in myriad ways.

I have encountered many inspirational people just in the last few days alone: the man who rescued a severely injured dog, the woman who spent hours and hours of her time to become a volunteer Emergency Medical Responder, the man who gives so much of himself to care for his elderly mother. Inspiration is all around us, urging us that we, too, can become our greatest selves, and in the process, make the world a little better along the way.

40: (February 2004)

Our two families had played on the beach together several summers ago on Rhode Island. My daughters and the other three children built elaborate sand castles along the surf’s edge, while the grown-ups smiled in admiration from their blankets. A few weeks later the father sent us a photograph of the group of children building one of their masterpieces, full of sun and sand and sweet memories.

Then, sometime later, he and his wife lost their five-year-old daughter to a sudden illness. The little girl was the victim of an aggressive form of strep that took her from a healthy child leading a normal life, to a hospital and death within 48 hours.

I recently spoke with the father on the telephone, feeling unbearably and completely bereft of words: What can one say? How inadequate words were to express my sorrow for this family. How inadequate words were to offer any consolation, any comfort. Yet, he had words that will reverberate within me for a long time.

This man had always been a compassionate, generous person, not resting with the success he had in the business world for himself and his family, but reaching out to do many innovative, charitable projects for the larger community. When I asked him how he had been coping in the months since losing his child, I marveled that he had been able to get up and go to work every day in the face of his grief. But true to form, it did not stop there. He was deeply involved in new, philanthropic efforts to build strong communities. I asked him where he got the strength to go on like this. He said, “I know I’ll see my little girl again someday, and she’ll want to know what I’ve done in all this time. I want her to be proud of me.”

If only we all lived this way. Now, while we have our loved ones with us. Always, even when we lose them. Imagine if we all lived as if we were accountable for each moment, as if we believed it really did matter what we were contributing to the world, each and every day. Heaven and earth might seem a little less distant from each other in such a world. My friend had always striven to live his best; his current acts of generosity are part of a continuum that began a long time ago. And I’m sure she’s proud.

60-40:

The bottom line is, life is short, and we can never predict what turns life will take. The time is now to make the most of our lives, to give what we can.

For those of us in retirement, tempting as it might be to just sleep late whenever possible, eat lots of chocolate, and watch a few pointless television shows (you can guess what my weaknesses are!), it would probably get boring. Retirement is not an excuse to drop out; it’s an opportunity to figure out how to best stay in the game we call life and utilize its relative freedom to bring out the best in ourselves—and then offer that to the world.

Deeds and kindnesses can touch hearts, ideas can enliven minds, and music can reach deep into the soul. Who knows what the impact of a life can be as all that ripples out through time?