An Update on the Third Act

 

"It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can only do a little. Do what you can.” Sydney Smith

I am pleased to report that I am still on the green side of the grass. One of the few perks of retirement is coming to realize we are human beings and not human doings. All my working life I made to-do lists, tickler files, and a variety of post-it notes to remind me of all the various things I needed to do. I was basically a go-go dancer, but with a collar.

My pace is slower, of course. It has taken me a few years, but I’m discovering I don’t have to be constantly doing something (beyond pulse and respiration) to be alive. When I reach the end of the day, I don’t look back to see how much I’ve done or not done. Generally I scratch my head and simply wonder, where did the day go? 

The fact is I do what I need to. I engage in “activities of daily living,” taking care of routine ablutions, consuming calories sufficient for the day (or more, according to my bathroom scale), drinking coffee, catching up with friends online, and keeping up on the housework enough to where I don’t need to bring in a bulldozer to handle the dusting.

Yesterday the little lady and I zipped down to the orange big box store and picked up some garden mix and plants. We live in a “zone” where it is still too early to do much in the garden, but warm enough where we can show the world we’re still alive and kicking. 

I went to my book club after the garden-run; we ignored the book for the most part, shifting our conversation to different matters of importance. We enjoy the books we read and the lively discussions of history, spirituality, and philosophy that flow from our studies, but we don’t mind shifting gears to check in on one another to see how we’re doing. We’re all retired, and over the years our organ recitals have become more extensive, and that’s OK. 

Yes, we are readers, but we’re also friends. Doing our assigned readings is good, but being together is even better. 

We’ve given each other permission to grow old (not that we have many options), but it’s nice having permission to let things slide, to do what we can and leave the rest for another time. Sometimes we need the permission of others because we don’t often want to give ourselves the OK to slow down, stop, or leave things alone.

I am generally my own harshest taskmaster. I have often preached (praught? Why isn’t the past tense of preach praught, like the past tense of teach is taught? Another mystery to explore). Anyway, I digress (something else we increasingly do as we age). I have shared often the story from Exodus, where slaves in Egypt suffered under the lash of the whip and the tyranny of Pharaoh. 

God sent Moses to demand release for God’s people. “Tell Pharaoh to let My people go!” commanded the Almighty.

What God said to Pharaoh, God says to us, too. I am often my own worst Pharaoh! Do this! Do that! Make bricks, and while you’re at it, gather your own straw (and don’t be late serving me supper, either)! I need my friends to be Moses, to give me permission to put down those bales of hay, to climb out of that muddy pit, to walk away from the fiery brick-maker’s furnace.

I never was one to boss people about, and yet ironically I quite regularly boss myself about hither, thither, and yon. I am blessed to live amongst people and friends who know how to tell me to just stop all that nonsense, to not be a Pharaoh!

I’m in that period of life often called “the third act.” Work and school lie in my wake. I suspect that means an Iceberg lies dead ahead. Hmm. I wonder if I should even use the word “dead.” Well, whatever lies ahead, I’ll not fret, for the One who tells me not to be a Pharaoh has also promised to walk beside me as I pass through the valley of the shadow. That’s quite comforting here in this, our valley (and that ain’t no act).

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)