What Will You Do With the Rest of Your Life?

This question has been staring me in the face as my seventies flash by.  When I was young it felt like I had all the time in the world to plot my future. Now my future has shrunk.  I go to more funerals than weddings.  I catch my children whispering behind my back, comparing notes on how I’ve slowed down.

    Funerals have become a common occurrence at this stage in my life

Fundamentally I have two choices:  I can anguish over my limited time or I can make the most of the time I have left, allotting for those days when the blues hit or when I simply decide to kick back and have a “nightgown day,” which is code for staying in bed with a good book or streaming a video.

What values do I hold central?

I want kindness to be paramount where I practice compassion towards others.  I try to follow Ben Franklin’s advice to do one kind thing a day.  A little kindness goes a long way and has a boomerang effect where both giver and recipient can feel their hearts expanding.

             A daily act of kindness gives meaning to my life

What gives my life meaning?

The answer is writing, activism, a spiritual practice, and time with family and close friends.

I may not write another book, but I want to take the next year to see if it’s possible.  I remain confused about God/Goddess but I will endeavor to be open to the mysteries of life, attending my progressive church where I often pray for clarity.  A spiritual practice keeps me humble and grounded.

I won’t let these dark times defeat me, but instead work to keep hope alive, adopting Anne Lamott’s concept of radical hope, which she defines as “hope in the face of not having a clue.”

For me radical hope is often a communal act where I protest with others, as we stand against inequality and war. We’re called to be spiritual foot soldiers for one another.

Joining with others to stand up for peace and justice is core to my beliefs

I come from a family where physical affection and words of endearment were extremely rare. In family photos there is a conspicuous absence of touch.  We all stand ramrod straight, our arms glued to our sides.  This legacy has challenged me to be more open with affectionate touch and telling family members, “I love you.”  I won’t shirk from this challenge.

Laughter and play help me cope besides being a great way to connect with my grandkids.

In spite of my family’s physical reserve they loved to laugh and have fun. I have fond memories of family restaurant meals when my playful father would often ask his three kids, “Who wants to have a birthday today?”  Once it was decided he would tell the waiter,  “We’ll need a birthday cake for ___.”   Laughter is my secret weapon for getting through a rough patch.

I will practice self-care where I’m not apologetic for my treasured naps, finding solace in Shakespeare’s reference to naps as “nature’s nurse.”  I won’t beat myself up when I miss a Pilates class and work on not comparing myself to younger, more flexible bodies.

Feeling adventursome at a Buddhist temple in Myanmar, Feb. 2015

I don’t ever want to be too old for adventure although now it has to be scaled back. My big adventure for 2019 is a trip to Iran with the Nation Magazine. Group tours become easier and less demanding as I age.

At my ex-husband’s memorial service four years ago my kids tentatively asked me what my preferences were for my memorial service.  My spontaneous answer was, “I want everyone to wear polka dots.”  I hope I can go out with a smile on my face.