Have I lived a life worth living?
Did I always do my best with what I had?
Have I made peace with everyone I may have hurt or who has hurt me?
If your answer to all three of these questions is “yes,” don’t waste your time reading further.
This is for people who know that we have sucked at life.
A lot of us review our lives as we live into the Third Half of Life. If we are honest with ourselves, we face the fact that one or more (or all ) of the following may be true.
I sucked at being a son or daughter
I sucked at being a brother or sister
I sucked at being a friend
I sucked at being a spouse
I sucked at being a parent
I sucked at my job
I sucked at saving money
I sucked at being generous
I sucked at being honest
I sucked at taking care of myself
I sucked at being myself
I sucked at ______________
Life forces this review because in the Third Half of Life we suffer the consequences of our choices. As George Burns said as he neared his 100th birthday, “If I had known I was going to live so long, I would have taken better care of my teeth.”
This is what Eastern religions call “Karma.” It’s what we mean when we say, “What goes around comes around.” Now the Bible’s words come true, “We reap what we sow.” The seeds we planted earlier produce the fruits of regret, loneliness, or ill health. That is bad news.
But, it does not have to be bad news. Remember what I said about sucking at things in my first post in this series?
Try this: substitute the words “was unskillful at” for the word “sucked” in each of the sentences above. Try it on some you wrote for yourself. Does it feel different when you read them?
The New Testament Gospel of Mark says that the Good News begins with a single word from Jesus, “turn.” “Turn” is an exact translation of the Aramaic word that Jesus used. Mark, writing in Greek, used the word “metanoia.” You know that we call a caterpillar becoming a butterfly “metamorphosis.” “Metanoia” is the same radical change in your soul/mind/heart as a caterpillar turning into a butterfly.
When we say, “I sucked at being a friend,” we probably feel a sense of shame and failure. Life feels like a courtroom and we have been judged guilty. That is bad news. It is such bad news that we may defend ourselves or blame others for what happened.
The words, “I was unskillful at being a friend,” radically change Life into a classroom. Instead of denying our responsibility or blaming others, we can learn from our mistakes. That is good news. We no longer have to defend ourselves, or live in a prison of shame and guilt. Even if it is too late to go back and make it up to an old friend, it is not too late to practice being a better friend now. That is a small sample of what that big word “Turn” (AKA “Repent”) means.
Learning from bad choices does not only make us more skilled. Facing our unskilled choices squarely and honestly can also make us wise. Seeing life as a classroom and not a courtroom does not minimize the seriousness of our errors, nor the difficulty of changing them. There are religions that believe it takes many lifetimes for us to learn to live life well. I am agnostic about that. But that belief does point to how difficult it is to live a life, any life, including yours, well.
OK, this is a curmudgeonly aside. This is why I can’t stand “happy, chirpy Christianity” which “celebrates” rather than worships. The music is unfailingly upbeat. The sermon series promises the perfect marriage in just six weeks. My criticism is not fair, though. It’s the kind of spirituality that works in the first half of life.
I am more interested in the spiritual journey that begins after life kicks the shit out of us, to use my mother-in-law’s favorite phrase. The journey often stops at that point because we stop to judge ourselves as failures, or to lay blame others. When we don’t let go of these things, it’s like being in prison.
The journey begins when we quit seeing Life as a courtroom. When we quit denying, blaming and defending. The journey begins when Life becomes a classroom. When we see how little we know about love and life, we are precisely at the point where the Teacher begins His Sermon on the Mount.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit (without an ego to defend).
Blessed are those who mourn (who feel remorse)
Blessed are the meek (who have become teachable)
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness (want to make their relationships right).”
If you have reached that point, you may be interested in what I have to say in upcoming posts.
Have you read Richard Ruhr’s The Divine Dance and then his new follow-up The Universal Christ (How a forgotten reality can Change everything We see, hope for, and believe)
Bill, sorry to be so slow about replying. Got on to a new project coming out of the results from GC19. I have not read either of those books. I’ll try to get hold of them. Rohr is always worth reading.
Thanks, we needed this. Our Trustees (At the urging of the minister) just “excused” us from any further service at First Cong, and the news from the UMC is making it impossible for me to function in organized religion. I guess I need to look at it from the perspective of a “classroom” and use it as a learning experience, an opportunity. Learn to do God’s work the best I can outside the church.
Jeannie, Wow! I cannot believe the church would do that. Something is not right there. I am sorry.
I found your musings on the second half of life meaningful, but short-lived. Not getting this “third half,” or what differentiates it from the second half.
Sorry, I need to make it clearer that the phrase is defined up above. Basically, most people did not expect to live as long as we are living.
Roger, I feel your pain regarding the GC19 and the impact it’s had on you. I have confidence that you’re a good swimming, so that hanging from the edge of the raft will find you on lush dry land in short order. – You ask how we’re experiencing our own 3rd half. Mine seems to be defined by a recent diagnosis of early stage Alzheimer’s. I had felt it creeping up but to put a name to it was a bit daunting. But I find I look at it from afar every now and then, wondering what it’s going to be like over time, worrying about things I don’t even want to name because that gives them energy which gives them life. One experience I’m having these days is having difficulty processing information that comes at me too fast, like our minister’s messages on occasion. So it’s a great pleasure to be able to absorb your concerns, insights and wisdom at my own leisure, and I’m grateful for that. Thanks and a very special Easter to you and Jacquie. (How are you with hugs these days?!)
Apologies for my having not proofread my previous entry (2nd sentence). Another thought I want to share: I’m learning how to make lemonade out of that tired old ‘lemon’. Based on the recommendations of a prominent Alzheimer’s doc, I’ve totally given up sugar (never would have thought it possible!), exercise more (added in an aqua aerobics class), meditate more, etc., and it makes me feel good. So my lemonade lacks sugar but it sure is satisfying.
Thanks for both of your comments, Gay. I can identify with the Alzheimer’s issue. Too much of it in my family. I worry about it every day, although less so since I went entirely vegan. It has cleared up a lot of “brain fog.”
You are right about swimming. If I’m knocked off, that is an option, as long as the raft isn’t rushing over the rocks and rapids of WV’s New River.