'My Time Here Is Short — What Can I Do the Most Beautifully?'

Old age is a time for turning inward.

To say my time here is short is a comical understatement. From a cosmic view, humans have been here for 200,000 years — my 80 to 100 years are an eyeblink.

From my point of view, at 80, the final sunset is closer. As poet Mary Oliver said, “Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Recently, a reply to Mary Oliver’s question arrived with my morning coffee in the form of writing advice from novelist James Patterson. I don’t know Mr. Patterson. I was watching CBS Sunday Morning, as I usually do, and during an interview about his umpteenth book, Mr. Patterson revealed a quote by the writer George Saunders.

My time here is short — What can I do the most beautifully?

Those words caressed me like a gentle breeze and sent me looking for a pencil. It’s a philosophical, even religious, question anyone can benefit from asking — especially anyone pushing 70.

When we’re young, we try to do things efficiently, quickly, or productively. When we’re older, we have time to make beauty a priority. We see beauty in art, commerce, or a stranger’s face. Everyone has a beauty that shines from within if you pay close attention.

I used to value sarcasm, irony, and dark humor. My approach to life also had an undercurrent of anger.

My wife would say, “What a beautiful day!” and I would joke, “I’ve seen better.” Sure, it was a joke, but why did I need to be a contrarian and ruin her enjoyment? “I was kidding,” I’d say. But the fact that I said it was revealing.

I used to respond to almost everything with that attitude. It was the armor I needed to protect myself from my emotions. But I have changed. I’ve gotten older and quieter of mind.

Now, I write to help seniors like me and young people who are conscious enough to face up to old age while they’re still young. Young people can help us oldsters spread a positive view of aging — a view of aging as a new beginning, not a depressing, downward slide to our end.

I’m already doing that on a small scale here on Substack. Whether I can scale up my efforts or not, I’ll keep doing what I’m doing because it’s the right path for me.

Old age is a difficult path, and we all look for clues and inspiration on how to tread it. I have no doubt this is my calling — even if I’m only reaching a small number of faithful readers, it will be worth it. I hope I’m helping.

Contributing beautifully fans out from the personal to the wider world.

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The Personal

I used to hang out in jazz clubs and go to Coachella-sized concerts like Altamont. I still love modern music of all kinds, especially loud music if I’m listening on headphones or in a movie theater.

But huge concerts? No — as I’ve aged, I’ve changed. I don’t need some aging hippy standing up and grooving to the music, ruining my view, at the Steely Dan concert. I’m too old for that. But I was probably jealous that she was spontaneous and having such a good time, and I was sitting back angrily, judging her. I had a bad attitude.

Regular silence is the medicine we need in old age. As our lives become less hectic, we can easily make room for it— a meditative silence with our morning coffee or a mindful walk in the park. There are many ways.

In old age, peace and quiet have become my preference. Noisy concerts and restaurants now feel jarring. Having time alone is a priority. I need quiet time to meditate and write. Meditation nourishes my writing, and I want my writing to reflect a meditative mind.

We older adults need stillness to awaken our intuition so we can make better decisions and listen more attentively to ourselves, our family, and the world.

To get that message across, I need to be walking the walk. I meditate and write daily — both are solitary activities that enliven my intuition so I can hear the muse (Like George Saunders) whispering clues.

Meditation is careful listening in the present moment. That skill carries over to my writing and my interactions with others, such as my family.

I need to be at peace to say my piece. I need a kind and generous heart, or my writing won’t connect.

The World

Confucius taught,

To put the world in order, we must first put the nation in order; to put the nation in order, we must put the family in order; to put the family in order, we must cultivate our personal life, and to cultivate our personal life, we must first set our hearts right.

After 25 years of Zen practice, I am just beginning to live the Mahayana Buddhist vow to save all beings. I took that vow in 2002 at my Zen Buddhist lay ordination ceremony.

I have not kept the vow. It’s an outrageous, impossible vow that Zen students take on even when they don’t understand what it means or know how to do it. Zen students worldwide chant this vow daily in their ceremonies and early morning services. It’s called the Bodhisattva Vow, which is the commitment to put others before oneself.

Beings are numberless, I vow to save them.
Desires are inexhaustible, I vow to end them.
Dharmas gates are boundless, I vow to enter them.
Buddha’s Way is unattainable, I vow to attain it.

Striving to live by this vow, no matter how halting or incomplete your effort, is the answer to the question: What can I Do The Most Beautifully?

Quiet your mind, know yourself, and help others. That’s how you do something beautiful.

Gary
August 2025