In the lives of my grandparents, precise knowledge of the year or day of their birth was not guaranteed.
Unlike those who lived at a slower pace, we have become preoccupied with time, perhaps beginning with the railroad trains in 1854. They were able to provide “on time arrival.”
We are at the mercy of time; we lose time, we search for time, and are sometimes early or late.
Magnificent works of art, music, books, and theater are called timeless. Why? Because they defeat the passage of the years by remaining seen, read, and performed long past their creation, just as they were.
Those towering man-made creations tell us that we can produce the timeless, but we — the creators —are not timeless.
For the young, the passing seasons matter only when it comes to Christmas presents, birthdays, and the dates that order the school calendar, signaling the beginning and end of summer vacation.
Somewhat later, the mirror watches us in recognition of our aging. Do we look back? That depends on how brave we are.
One thing we neither read about nor hear much is that we live in different stages, to the point of being one person or personality at one age and a different person at another. Our bodies, knowledge, experience, brains, and chemistry are constantly transforming.
It follows that we will not live in the same way at 45 as we do at 25. Nor can the 45-year-old live as he will at 65, or even predict what his nature will be at that time.
In a sense, this turns the question of mortality on its head. The person we were earlier is not the person we are later. If we live with an eye on the person we are now, we will not plan for the person we will be. Indeed, we have no certainty about who we will become anyway.
The unfathomable alterations in the seasons of our lives underline the significance of living well as a 20-year-old, when you are 20. Fall in love, use your body to its fullest potential, and excel in age-sensitive skills like math if you have the talent.
Remember, you live on a moving walkway.
Enjoy your favorite foods until you develop a taste for something different. Baseball players tend to peak around the age of 27, so play, sprint, or swim as much as you can. Don’t make bucket list plans. The old man you will be at retirement won’t be you.
Understand this. I had no recognition of any of this until I experienced it firsthand. I am still living it and watching friends in the same process of transformation. Younger people, too.
I doubt that most of you will internalize any of this. Unless, that is, you are in the grasp of the sculptor we call time.
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The painting above is “Clock ” by Philip Guston, sourced from Wikiart.org.
This is so great and well written. I am, like you, at a later stage of my life. Looking back at my earlier stages, I am much easier on myself and I certainly love and accept myself more. Looking backward and looking forward only goes so far. What is more important to me is the present, which quickly becomes the future anyway. Thanks for your weekly messages that help me put things in perspective. By the way, I first discovered you when I was going through a difficult erotic transference with my therapist. It was driving me crazy. You helped. I am “so” not that person now. Now aging is my big issue. I guess that’s the price of living.
Indeed, the price of living, Enid. Thank you for your thoughtful words and our shared perspective. And, a special thanks for telling me that I helped you some years ago in my writing. Therapists sometimes wonder “what happened to X” as the time passes since their therapy. I am grateful to know that I helped. Best wishes.
If we are lucky, we get to see pieces of ourselves in the younger members of our family. My oldest granddaughter (18) saw a photo of me when I was younger and seemed shocked that I could have looked beautiful. She had a hard time reconciling the photo with how I currently look, which is a bit older now than the photo in my avatar. It’s a good thing we don’t get our self-esteem from the kids! My spirit feels young still, but my body tells me to “take it easy kiddo!”
Agreed, Tamara, we hear things from our kids and our grandkids. It sounds as though you accept what the 18 year old says in light of her age, and I don’t doubt the beauty she found shocking. Vanity isn’t worth very much to me at this stage. I also accept that I have come to look more like my father. Since I admired much about him, the likeness is more than acceptable.
Retirement has given me the blessing of trying new things that I never had time for when I was working. It behooves us to strike a balance between planning for tomorrow and living for today. Part of the challenge is admitting our bodies won’t allow us to do what we could ten years ago.
Well said, Pete. Balance is always helpful and once we are old enough, planning takes on greater importance. At the stage I am in, I find it useful to take a day at a time. Good health to you!
Such a thoughtful post, as always, dear Dr. Stein. I think Tamara captured what’s in my heart…how often we see “pieces of ourselves” in the looking back. In the faces of family memories or wrapped in potent memories – sometimes popping up like my very own reel-in-review. A slideshow both bittersweet and joyful. 💕
The old photos are informative, aren’t they? I have framed photos of my parents in my office. In a sense, it is nice to see them. My mother in her early beauty is captured in one and I’d bet she would be pleased to know that I remember her at her best. The one I enjoy about my father is him on the beach with friends, about age 20, and having the time of his life. He wouldn’t mind that one, either. Thanks, Vicki.
So good to keep them near! ❤️
Yes. Making peace with them helps a lot, something you know about very well, Vicki. Thank you.
Dr. Stein, your words capture so much truth—they make me feel both comforted and inspired. Reading your reflections is like catching my breath and remembering it’s okay to grow, change, and even marvel at who we’ve been and who we’re becoming.
If I have helped to comfort and inspire you, Erin, I have done my job for all the days of this week. Very kind of you to say so! You have had quite a ride, more than remarkable and triumphant. Who knows what the world holds for you ahead? Something quite fine, I’ll bet!
Thank you, Dr. Stein. The world (and this little corner of the internet) are so fortunate to have your wisdom and grace. 🫶
I don’t recall ever being told I possessed grace, Erin. Many, many thanks.
“Remember, you live on a moving walkway.” – wow, that image is so powerful. Thank you for the beautiful reminder to enjoy the season we’re in!
You are welcome, Wynne. I borrowed the “moving walkway” line from the endless number of times I have heard it at O’Hare Field in Chicago.
An important reminder, Dr. Stein, of the changing seasons of our life. In the fast pace of our working lives, we rarely notice how we are changing with each new life experience. Only those who have not seen us for several years will notice how different we have become. Sad to say, my sons still expect me to be the strong woman I once was. For my part, it has been interesting to watch them mature and become the men they are today. In the slower pace of our elder years, we have the time and insight to observe the ongoing process of transformation.
Agreed, Rosaliene. It is only in our elder years that we can get a more informed perspective on our lives, if we choose to think about it. It helps if most of what we control of our transformation pleases us, I think. On the other hand, as the great Negro Leagues baseball pitcher, Satchel Paige, used to say, “Don’t look back. Something might be gaining on you!”
I love getting older. Now I’m more focused on my immediate family and on helping those around me as much as I can. Back when I was young, I let the fast life and what others thought of me drive a lot of my choices, but I’m glad I’m past that now. Life feels easier in that way, and I can finally enjoy the little things, the ones that really matter. Like mowing the lawn on a Thursday morning so my weekends are free for family time. That’s just beautiful. Gotta love retirement. Another excellent post, Dr. Stein. Thank you!
Sounds like you have hit the sweet spot, Edward. May you continue to “Live long and prosper,” as the Vulcans (like Mr. Spock) like to say!🖖
Wow, I haven’t heard that line in years. Thank you, Dr. Stein. 🖖🏼