“The way he lived while he was dying…”
John Carter Cash.
This thought, shared by Johnny Cash’s son during an interview about his father’s last years, has lingered on my mind. We’re all dying, you know. It begins the day we are born.
I used to wonder how much old people think about dying and, now that I’m old, I know the answer. We all should consider the inevitable from an early age, not in a fearful or morbid way, but as a means of deciding how we want to spend whatever time we are allotted. Our society has all manner of suggestions, some of them more valuable than others. For most of us, work is central upon reaching adulthood but, as long as we’re already dying, we might consider whether that work is fulfilling and helpful to others. Attitude can make any job pleasant. We all know folks who work minimum wage jobs and still manage to laugh and joke all day, even though their feet are probably killing them and the last customer gave them a tongue lashing. Those are the places I like to shop, the meetings I enjoy going to, and the organizations I support. Showing my appreciation to them is part of how I’ve decided to live.
Schools, churches, community organizations and the media have various notions of how we should spend the hours of our lives, but it’s important to remember that we are the ones responsible to choose priorities. There’s a lot we don’t have control of, and never will, but if we feel constantly overwhelmed, it’s probably because we are letting others choose for us.
I recently read another phrase that fits in here; “The moment a person acts on the decision to live an undivided life.” That is a decision that many of us put off, or perhaps don’t even realize is an option. An undivided life surely will have different meanings to each of us, but we’ll know it when we see it. For me, it translates this way. No matter how many hats I wear, I need to be the same person under each one. Being consistent requires a lot of reflection and accountability. Some folks build a reputation as a good old boy, a sweet little lady, or someone who’d give you the shirt off his back, but his or her family, or co-workers, would tell an entirely different story.
I suppose one has to achieve a certain age to even consider these matters, and our past doesn’t always match our present convictions. But people change and forget to tell us. Even to tell themselves, sometimes. If we make a decision to change something, to make our lives more congruent, we need to tell someone who will remind us when we slip backward. So, I’m telling you.
I’ve decided to heed my daughter’s advice. “The answer is NO.” To remember what Sarah Ban Breathnach wrote. “Give yourself the gift of time. Certainly, no one else will.” I’m dropping out of some activities I enjoy that required juggling the calendar. I want to watch more sunsets, walk under a full moon, caress the kitten, attend fewer functions that don’t involve family celebrations, and be present to ordinary moments instead of rushing into tomorrow or next week. When someone asks how I am, I won’t answer “busy,” even if I have been. I’ll be able to remember what I’ve been doing instead of watching it go by in a blur. So, if you notice I’ve got the pedal to the metal, remind me to gear down. Thanks, I’ll do the same for you.