“I can’t do what I once did,” the man in the checkout line at the pharmacy bemoaned. “I’m taking all these prescriptions. I have aches and pains. I’ve slowed down in so many ways. Furthermore, now that I’m retired I don’t have the contacts I once had. Sometimes it feels like life has passed me by.” Apparently I overheard the very last part of a conversation he was having with another gentleman about to leave the store.
The line was long, as would be the wait. It had not been my plan to go to that store to offer free counseling. Plus, I had never met the man before. But my only other option was to stand there and read the signage in the pharmacy area. So, I intruded, “If you don’t mind my being nosy, what do you mean when you say that life has passed you by?”
“I guess I mean I don’t have as much to offer as I once did. And, nobody would be interested even if I did.” He spoke those words not so much with a sense of frustration as with a sense of resignation. The man waiting for his pills seemed sad. Maybe he wondered if the prescription he was about to pick up was just prolonging his emptiness, his general sense of living without purpose. Just as I had not come to the drug store to provide counseling, he had not come to hear a sermon. Even so, he looked at me clearly expecting a response.
“I agree,” I started, “that the passing years take some things away. Time doesn’t just change things. It changes us. Even so, I’ll bet you have more to offer than you’re giving yourself credit for.” He shrugged his shoulders and gave one of those palms up “Who knows?” gestures. So, I plowed ahead.
“This morning I read a quote on a university website,” I told him. “It’s from the late Arthur Ashe.” The man interjected how Ashe had been one of his sports heroes, inspiring him to take up the game of tennis. “I loved tennis,” he said, “but these knees won’t let me run around the court anymore.”
“Well,” I continued, “here’s the quote from Ashe: ‘Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.’ It makes sense, doesn’t it?,” I asked him. He answered, “You know, it kinda’ does. Just because we can’t do everything we once did doesn’t mean we can’t do something. Ashe was a smart guy.” About that time the pharmacy tech called his name. His medicine was ready. Did he have any questions for the pharmacist?, etc. You know the routine. As he exited, with a grin he pointed at his knees and said, “I can’t play tennis. Maybe I ought to try pickleball.” I gave him a thumbs-up just as the pharmacy tech looked at me and said, “May I help you?”
The stranger at the check-out counter made a valid point. As the years pass, there are things we cannot do anymore. Or, cannot do as well. Or, as quickly. But, that doesn’t mean we are without power or opportunity. “Start where you are,” said Ashe. Just look around. Pay attention. You’ll find numerous options for joy, and even more opportunities to be of service in a broken world. Don’t obsess over what once was. What matters is now. “Start where you are.”
“Use what you have,” Ashe advised. As people age, maybe we can’t cover the tennis court or lead a fast break or run a 5K like we could thirty years ago. But, we have other gifts in our arsenal that only aging can provide. We have experience. And experience properly interpreted turns into wisdom. Furthermore, we have time that was not available when we worked forty-plus hours a week. “Use what you have.”
Ashe concluded, “Do what you can.” For many, that may mean walking instead of jogging. Or, as the man in the drug store suggested, it may mean pickleball instead of tennis. It may mean discovering art, theater, or nature instead of living your life in a cubicle at the office. The point is, there are things you can still do to find joy. Life has not passed you by unless you allow it to.
And, just as importantly, there is something you can do for those who can do nothing for themselves. Volunteering. Tutoring. Contributing. Even just listening. We may not have the power to fix all the problems of a broken world, but we do have the ability to make the world a little better than it would be without us. If you’re interested in creating a legacy, that’s not a bad one to aim for. “Do what you can.”
I didn’t catch his name. But, I’m guessing we’ll bump into one another again when our prescriptions need to be refilled. When I ask “How are you?,” I hope he answers, “Busy.”
Thanks Michael! Quite timely, as you so often are!