Wendel Berry Has a Message for You

“The question before me, now that I am old, is not how to be dead, which I know from enough practice, but how to live, as these worn hills still tell, and some paintings of Paul Cezanne, and this mere singing wren, who thinks he’s alive forever, this instant, and may be.”– Wendell Berry

 

I’ve had the above passage on my walls in two different rooms in my home since I first saw it in an OPRAH magazine more than twenty years ago. It spoke to me profoundly way back then, when I was 46 or 48, and it speaks to me now, exponentially more forcefully.

 

I thought I was middle age then, and probably I was. Not many people live beyond 90, and 48 for me was halfway to 96. Today I’m closer to 96 than I have ever been before, with no guarantees I’ll make it that far.

 

But here’s the thing. That passage has prompted me to write the fourteen books I’ve written, to forge my working life as a professional writer (which I love), and to pay closer attention to the things I’ve either ignored or taken for granted for so much of my life.

 

There’s just something about acknowledging that life is short (which we never really believe or think about when we’re young and healthy and no one close to us has died yet), even if we live to 100. A hundred years is a mere blink of an eye–not even that–in the grand scheme of things.

 

Every day that passes seems shorter to me. I can’t believe it’s almost 5 o’clock already; it seems I just hopped out of bed a little while ago (at 6:30 a.m.) but it was almost 12 hours ago already. I played pickle ball, looked for a little writing work, did a few minutes of work for a client, read a little, closed my eyes for an hour or so, and read some in the book I’m in the middle of right now.  And just like that, the day expended itself in what seemed like mere minutes to me, and night time is just hours away!

 

I’ve been noticing this same thing for several weeks now. The days fly by!  It’s like I’ve slipped somehow into warp drive… the last years of my life are whizzing by as if sent forth by way of a slingshot or an arrow!

 

I’m ready to go any time. I’ve pretty much done all I ever intended to do (except have my breasts removed, which I’m heading in the direction of right now).

 

Oh, every now and then a new book arrives in my head, and I get Christmas Tree Brain again, all excited about how to put it down on paper in the best possible way…

 

And I love writing for the clients I write for.  And I love pickle ball and wally ball and my friends and critters and sisters and whoever else I spend time with…

 

…but I’m supremely satisfied that I’ve accomplished just about everything that’s been on my bucket list during my whole life. And I think it was Wendell Berry’s passage, above, that  has kept spurring me on.

 

I have one other thing on my wall that’s similar, albeit more foreboding. It reads: “The trouble is… you think you have time…”

 

I ask myself frequently, “If today were your last day on earth, what have you left undone or unsaid that you want to do or say?”

 

What I come up with when I ask that is, “I hope everybody in my life knows how much I appreciate them, how much I love them.”  I’m at an age now (have been for about 15 years) where I don’t suffer fools anymore; there is no one in my life on a frequent basis that I don’t want in it.

 

Oh, there are outliers who are real creeps (Trump, McConnell, and other mean-spirited public monsters of that ilk) but they don’t know me, and I don’t dwell much on them because they’re downers/scoundrels and I hate wasting my precious time. (I do VOTE and share anti-Trump/McConnell memes and articles, my way of letting them and my followers know what I think of them.)

 

There are also outliers I don’t know personally but who have become very dear to me by way of Facebook, or email. You know who you are. I love you, too!

 

It’s been said that if you have one true friend, you have more than your share. I have more than my share, in that case. (Probably even more than I know of. My readers are true friends. People who help when I ask for it are true friends. People with hearts of gold are my true friends.)

 

It’s also been said that if you have no enemies, you haven’t accomplished much in your life. I have a few enemies. (Well, they aren’t true enemies. They’re mostly, I surmise, merely jealous or envious–and cranky as a result. I’m sorry about that. Since I have no personal experience with the green-eyed monster (jealousy)–never have–I don’t understand it, but I know it exists in some people, and I sympathize mightily!)

 

IF I have an enemy or two, it was strictly inadvertent. I have never set out to make an enemy of anyone.  I have most certainly been ham-handed a time or two with friends who became estranged because of my refusal to become as codependent on them as they wanted to become on me… but that happens to a lot of people with insecure friends. It’s regrettable. It’s tragic, in fact…

 

But if I have enemies, they’re likely the ones who will be raising their hands and offering proof that I deserve to be remembered as more cat-like (aloof and self-contained) than dog-like (effusive, a people-pleaser, lap-dog-like). I’ve always been self-sufficient and somewhat of a loner.  It came with the territory, since I  considered myself an alien for most of my life. (If you’ve read Womb Man, you understand this.) I had to learn to live my life alone, so I finally got to a point where I enjoy it.  There’s no one to disappoint or frustrate when you live alone!

 

Anyway, Wendell Berry’s passage has been a guiding light for me, and I hope it becomes one for you, too, if you haven’t read it before.

 

It’s never too late to create and life you want and to leave the legacy you want to leave!

 

The trouble is…. you think you have time!