ZIELSCHMERZ

n. the dread of finally pursuing a lifelong dream, which requires you to put your true abilities out there to be tested on the open savannah, no longer protected inside the terrarium of hopes and delusions that you started up in kindergarten and kept sealed as long as you could.

In 2008, I sent a short essay entitled It’s Never Too Late to Northwest Prime Time newspaper. These words, the first I ever submitted for publication, were accepted. 

I was sixty-two years old. 

This was a lifelong dream come true. What dreams of yours remain unrealized? Pull them out of the closet, dust them off, and begin. Unless your unfulfilled dream is to summit Mt. Everest, become a Formula 1 race car driver, or achieve other goals out of reach at this stage, it is never too late. 

But I don’t have the energy or the drive to learn anything new. 

You don’t have the stamina you once did. But what you do have is the knowledge that you can tackle new hobbies and adventures and succeed. Look in the rearview mirror! There’s a string of successes behind you.

What you do have, if your working years have been fruitful, are the funds to take classes, buy crafting materials, start a business, or travel to exotic locales. 

What you do have, if you are retired, is time!

A few examples of It’s never too late: 

Remember Clara Pellar of “Where’s the beef” fame? She was 81 when she began doing those commercials for Wendy’s. Grandma Moses began painting at 78. Angela’s Ashes author, Frank McCourt, started writing when he was 65. And most surprising to me, Laura Ingalls Wilder completed the first book of her Little House on the Prairie series at 65!

There are three splendid examples of It’s never too late in my orbit. 

When my eighty-two-year-old friend, Diane, is not chauffeuring her oldest granddaughter to and from high school and soccer practice, she does crafts and cooks gourmet meals. She lives in San Jose, California, and sends me handcrafted greeting cards on every major and every minor holiday! A sure enough cartoonist, her joyful personality shines through every whimsical creation.  

And when she decided it was time to downsize, characteristically, she and her husband, David, a sculptor, built their own retirement home. They conceived a vision for David’s studio, hired an architect, and converted it into an ADU (Accessory Dwelling Unit). They thought it took longer than it should. What building/remodel project doesn’t? It took just a year: Hiring an architect, applying and waiting for permits, demolition, installing water and sewer, and finally, building the 560 sf unit. They expect to move in soon. I am writing this in mid-April.

Their new home is in their daughter’s backyard, so they have created a lovely intergenerational neighborhood! And, of course, I just received a handcrafted “We have moved” announcement (see image above).

Downsizing has been painful, but Diane writes that in a way, it feels good to simplify.

For another friend, art is a family affair. Joanne’s youngest daughter, Andrea, was in the first grade when she volunteered for a PTA art appreciation program. For six years, Joanne spent time every month in the children’s section of the Bellevue Library researching the artist chosen for a given month. The kids learned to appreciate art by studying colors, style, shapes, and innovations.  

Fast forward a few decades. Joanne’s middle daughter, Ashley, began bringing watercolors on family outings, hiking, camping, and road trips, to pass the time. Ashley’s seven-year-old nephew, Garrett, thought that was way cool, and Joanne mused, Why not me, too?

She began taking watercolor classes at the Kirkland Senior Center one and a half years ago. Why not you, indeed! You have found your medium! 

One recent November, I gave Joanne an Amaryllis bulb as a thank you for rides to church. Before I knew what happened, she presented me with a framed watercolor of that Amaryllis! That’s a generous soul. I have three of her watercolors. My favorite is a perfect Iris. We can’t decide if it is purple or blue, so I’m calling it indigo. It is posted in the images above. You decide.

Diving into her new hobby is its own reward. She writes: “I find it takes my complete focus. I consider that focus a ‘gift’ to myself.”

I have another friend, Lyn, whose father, Bill, just turned 96. He was a country doctor and the only doctor in the tiny hamlet of Drain, Oregon. These memories are captured in a soon-to-be-released memoir, Memories from a Country Doctor: Humor, Health and Personal Salvation. Almanac might be a more appropriate designation, as he adds medical tips and diet tips, childhood vignettes, whimsical poems, and, most amazingly, his days as an adult planting 180,000, mostly Douglas Fir trees.

  

Curious, I just looked up tree planting and found this. One acre of trees provides enough oxygen for eighteen people to breathe for a year. Wow! How many trees to an acre depends. You can find a tree spacing calculator online if you are curious to know how many humans are breathing thanks to Bill.

He is also writing a science fiction short story. Even as a man of science, he likes sci-fi because anything goes. The plot is so intriguing, I don’t want to share it here, but it is one of those uplifting tales in which a ghost hangs around to assist a loved one left behind.

Bill made up his first story at the age of five. It was brief, but imaginative. “A mama radio gives birth to six baby sewing machines.” How prescient! Did he know at five years old that he would grow up to become a doctor? Between this ‘tome’ and his recent memoir were fishing and hunting stories written in junior high school, and a weekly column in his college newspaper.

And my friend, Lyn, is just as awesome as her dad.

Then there’s me. Thanks to Michelle Roedell, editor of Northwest Prime Time, who believed in me, I never stopped writing. My first award-winning children’s novel, Wishes Are Free, published when I was seventy-five, continues to receive praise. Every review describes this book as a heartwarming tale about empathy and friendship appropriate for readers of all ages (You can check Wishes out at King County and Snohomish County libraries or purchase it at Amazon).

I started late. But I don’t regret it. Everything happens as it must, and I’m not done. I am now seventy-seven years old, and just published my first book of poems, Reflections. The follow-up to Wishes Are Free, entitled Be Careful What You Wish, will be out this summer. I began a new career when I could have just retired. Oh, the joy and satisfaction I would have missed if I had retired instead of believing in my potential.

But let’s take a closer look at the options available to you. Perhaps a debilitating illness keeps you tethered to your house or a chair. There are games, puzzles, needlework, painting, reading, music, coloring, yes, adult coloring books, journaling, and creative writing for you to pursue. It’s never too late to begin something new. Maybe you would like to read all the works of Pearl S. Buck or write down your family history. If you’ve always been interested in the law, you could take online courses and become a certified paralegal.

For those fortunate to be physically fit, additional hobby opportunities await: Quilting, yoga, swimming, hiking, exercising, photography, painting, dance, and adult education classes. You could become a certified genealogist or a master gardener!

Now that we’ve established that you can do it. Why should you? 

According to PositivePsychology.com, setting goals builds a positive self-image and supports emotional and physical well-being. And you will look forward to get-togethers with renewed enthusiasm. “Guess what?” you’ll say. “I have taken up needlepoint! I’m taking a class on Mendelssohn: Nineteenth Century Genius, I’m enrolled in a class called Auto Crazy: The Impact of the Automobile, or I’m learning about The Science of Earthquakes.” These are actual courses offered by the University of Washington Continuing Education Department. 

Classes and certification programs on every subject are offered online and in person by colleges, senior centers, and recreation departments in cities across Washington. 

Our final years are precious. Make them stimulating and productive, show what you can still do! Goal-setting keeps us young, focused on the positive, and helps us forget aches and pains. 

Earth is a magical place, it’s never too late to explore new horizons.