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!
Nancy, thanks for the latest writing. The photo looked so inviting, maybe overlooking a fjord. I read this to my dad after walking to the woods to sit a while. He said he liked it. We discussed we can’t save or waste time, but enjoy the moment.
It also reminded me of the triad of work, play and rest shared in our “Contemplative Living” program. I’ll send in another email the chalk figure I had made. Thanks again for the reminder of being aware of and enjoying the moment, Trula
Thank you, Trula. I’m glad you shared this with your Dad and that it led to a good conversation with him about how we use time by living it. Nancy
As a recent Octogenarian I resonate deeply with your reflection on intrusions of sweetness amidst challenges of wisdom years. It reenforces my intention to be grateful as often as I am still, paused and contacting with the abundance of my rich long life.
Dear Anne,
I love your phrase about the ‘intrusions of sweetness.” Yes, we have been blessed in our lives” being able to give and receive enriches our living in many ways! Nancy
Beautifully written piece and so very true! Having recently moved from our farm of 40 years, I have been too busy to recognize the wisdom of your words. But we suffer when we try to stuff too much planning, activity, and worrying into our schedules. Now that I am beginning to adjust to this new home, I have caught up with your blogs and feel a sense of peace. Your writing is always a soothing balm to me, Nancy. Thank you.
HI Laurie,
Thank you for responding to this writing. I’m glad you are re-finding a sense of peace after the enormous change. Moving from a farm (and the life there) to a new home is a tremendous transition. May you continue to find your way, living fully in this chapter of your life. Nancy