knowing when

Kenny Rogers in action

It’s the winter solstice in the northern hemisphere. Thank goodness the next 182 days extend the light as I detest the early evenings. Late sunrises are usually quite worth it but I am ready for them earlier! This was Spa Creek about 0730.

A dear chum of thirty years sent me an email invitation to breakfast yesterday, suggesting a possible next joint project. This fellow and I have worked together on various things since 1993. He always makes me think, challenging me to clarify my objectives. He shares some common experiences with my husband so that is a further bond. I eagerly accepted as I am always game for a new project as it keeps me busy. Busy is good all the time, no?

At least one loyal reader of this column told me months ago that I am overdoing things in my life, especially writing a substack entry daily. I confess some days require greater soul-searching for what might interest people in exchange for their time but I do it because I enjoy the writing and I feel I owe those who support this work.

A college friend counseled me decades ago to slow down as she predicted I would burn out. My response was that life is short, there is so much to share, and I had plenty of energy. I was keen to share the world I had seen living overseas as a kid so why wouldn’t I work constantly?

We do, however, see a life long theme here, I fear. But I make my commitments, have plenty of things stimulating my aging mind, and figure why not? I am lucky enough to have a full life.

Breakfast was not what I expected. It was Kenny Rogers’s song, ‘The Gambler’, in action: ‘You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold them, know when to walk away, know when to run’.

My friend passed the painful news that a recently-diagnosed major illness, something I knew of but he seemed to be taking in his usual upbeat stride, led him to reassess his priorities. Refined slightly, his beloved wife of many years pushed him to recognise he needs to laser-like focus on his health as a counterbalance to the illness. He recognised that, despite preferring to slough off the diagnosis by carrying on with his business as he has for his life, she was right that it is time to restack priorities.

I was so moved for the remainder of the day, thinking of what he has ahead of him but, much more importantly, relieved that he was not going to willfully ignore the difficulties with the hardcore ‘to-hell-with-anyone-telling-me-I-am mortal’ so many of us embrace as we age. Most of us reading this are from the ‘I have conquered a lot worse stuff’ generation so why should I let anything slow me down? We really can’t control everything?

Goodness, I have done it for my entire life, often rather stupidly because I am indeed mortal as this fellow is.

What moved me the most was his grace in realising his wife had a point. I should add I use ‘grace’ as the highest compliment for someone who surrenders something without fighting unnecessarily in an unwinnable situation. I hadn’t spoken with him since his diagnosis so he may well have come to this conclusion himself but our recent email exchanges (several times weekly) did not indicate he was radically reconsidering life. He is still young enough to take on new things, though he has the family and financial assets for a fulfilling life. Put otherwise, if he started a new project, it would be purely out of desire to conquer something else rather than need. He has been there, done that long ago.

Saying those words aloud, however, is bloody hard as is acknowledging that we all have limits. Too many of us seek to surmount those limits to prove to others—or is it ourselves?—that we are not quitters, we are omnipowerful, and we can succeed at everything we do. Right. Even Henry the K ultimately passed on, albeit it after a full century of activity. None of us likely wants to face needing assistance or anything that deprives us of our independence, much less our mortality, as that is an irrevocable step towards things we cannot defeat.

It might well be that he would have made this choice at this point in his life anyway. He has a child and grandchildren he adores on top of his wonderful marriage of nearly fifty years. He is enjoying time spent on family history to pass on to the next generations while traveling with his wife when they encounter the idea of going somewhere for a while. He has a great life, by his own account.

But the harsh realities that the body defies the mind can be so painful to accept. My husband’s aunt lived to an incredible 105 1/2 years old, still absolutely as sharp as any Nobel Laureate. When she suffered a fall at age 104, she insisted the surgery to receive pins was ‘Oh, nothing serious, dear. Just a few pins’ when hypochondriacs at age 45 would have been wailing about everything. Her hip needed the pins but her mind said all was well—which it was until literally her final hours eighteen months later.

I am sad I won’t be working on with my friend, though I hope we will see each other occasionally as we discussed at the end of the meal. It most definitely was not the outcome I expected but left me with a sense of calm that people, in this whirlwind life we lead in 2023, do make sane decisions rather than rationalising irrational and unsustainable behaviour.

There is, of course, a fine line between giving up on anything (rarely a good approach but one I fear some people succumb to when plagued by depression or hopelessness) and making unsustainable choices. The hard part is assuring one considers these realities as overcommitting is like overstaying as a house guest; it doesn’t usually go well. As so often true, the middle path rather than radical left or right options on any major lifestyle question is probably advantageous but humans have an infinite capability to blame others for their own poor thought processes, don’t we?

I only hope I am as smart when confronted by turning points that are truly red lights on behaviour. I suspect my husband must worry about this as I can be so bull-headed, probably fearing my own mortality.

As we close out this year in 10 days, many, if not almost all, of us will be somewhat reflective. How will you know whether you need make radical changes? Is it time to accelerate or to pull back on some aspects of your life? Worthy questions are not always comfortable ones.

Thank you for reading this column as is true each and every day. Wishing you a restful, satisfying couple of days of awe as we come to the end of this calendar year. Please send me any comments as I do read them carefully! If you enjoy this column daily, it also is a gift you could provide to someone else. In any case, your time is important to me.

Be well and be safe. FIN