The first challenge of an octogenarian is to correctly pronounce and spell the name itself. I’ve managed that one. But the second and more significant challenge is facing the fact that time is running out, and one shouldn’t “waste” a single moment of it.
As a new octogenarian, I’m wrestling with the second challenge. What does it mean to waste time? For someone like me with a constant to-do list and a family history of the old Germanic work ethic, wasting time is almost sinful. Time is for accomplishing tasks! As a child, I learned that vacation time and Sunday afternoons were for fun and relaxation, but most hours were for work. (On a farm, there was always more work.)
I’m no longer a child on a farm, and I wonder what “wasting time” means in this season of my life. Is it wasting time to read a new book rather than tackle the next job on the to-do list? Maybe. Is it a waste of time to sit on the deck as the sun goes down and colors the field and sky – instead of immediately clearing the table and starting on the dishes? Well, I don’t think so. And what about the hours spent chatting and catching up with a friend while the laundry is waiting? That’s surely not a waste of time!
The truth is that old Father Time persistently, steadily paces the minutes, hours, and days – no matter what I do with them, no matter how I use them. I’ve finally concluded that I can neither waste time nor save time. All I can do is live time, each minute and each hour as it comes rolling along. All I can do is be awake enough so that I live fully.
I believe the only real abuse of time is not to be awake and aware that one is living. Here I am, on a Wednesday morning, in my air-conditioned study with my fingers on a keyboard and my cat sprawled over the papers on my desk. Here I am, driving to work, aware not only of traffic but also of the morning sun and the farmer harvesting the wheat field I’m passing. Here I am, mowing the lawn, aware of the marvel of the machine I’m managing and the graceful sweep of grass before me. Here I am, paying attention to living.
Living is unpredictable though. I could die today, and time would “run out.” No one is guaranteed 80 years. People don’t usually focus on time running out, although octogenarians are definitely more likely to consider it. Facing the unpredictability of our lives helps us “seize the day,” helps us to grab hold of opportunities and even live into adventures. The uncertainty of living can be a stimulus to live more fully.
So let us live today and every day awake and conscious of the present moment. There are gifts in living this way. When I am awake to the individual present moment, the gift of gratitude rises in me. I notice things instead of taking them for granted. I see the blessings of the day: flowers blooming, my fingers using my laptop, the love expressed through my husband’s hug. I am grateful.
Another gift I’ve discovered is that I see the persons around me more clearly, even if I don’t know them. Maybe it’s a waiter or clerk with whom I exchange a few words. I look into his or her face; our eyes meet, and there’s a connection. Perhaps it’s a casual friend whom I’ve known for years. If I can see this person as someone whose life is filled with joys and griefs, enthusiasms and disappointments, and not just as someone in relationship to me, I can care more deeply for this friend.
What’s the wisdom from this octogenarian? Be awake to the present day. Notice the gifts within the passing moments and hours. Go ahead and live fully! It’s never a waste of time.
If this reflection has spoken to you, pass it on!