Getting old can be hard. My dad used to say, “It’s not for the weak.” That would always make him chuckle. 


One of the harder things is maintaining a sense of purpose and relevance. After the kids are  gone and don’t particularly need or want your advice; after the all consuming job is not so all consuming, or just isn’t; after all the people you knew and thought were friends turn out to have been more acquaintances linked by shared activities, not lasting companions, -- what do you do? 

A few years ago, I was driving home late one night listening to NPR. A guy named Daniel Pink came on and talked about his new book, “DRIVE.” I was still teaching full time and what he said about intrinsic motivation lit me up. I ordered  10 copies of his book that night and gave it to all my surprised colleagues. I also tried to implement his basic findings into my teaching: that motivation for the hard things (inventions, tough problems, etc) does not come through the classic carrot-and-stick approach. He posited that scientific research had found that the difficult problems need the intrinsic motivation approach. The approach that combines autonomy, mastery, and purpose. They had even found that monkeys and rats were more motivated by challenging, complex (but not too complex!) puzzles and mazes than they were by rewards such as food. Wow! 

When I stopped teaching, I still had Pink’s voice in my head. It told me that I needed to find something where I could have those three components. That was the goal. I also had Jesus’ voice in my head where he tells us about the three men who were given money (talents) and what they did with them. The one who hid it in the ground so he would be sure it was there later was the loser in this parable. He had to give to the man who had used his talents to their utmost. 

We all have talents. We may not even know it, but we do. And, often, they appear because of something hard that has happened in our lives. 

I was listening to two friends tell their “life stories” and I kept thinking, “See? It all worked out.” Not in a “Polyanna” type of way, but in a “hard things can turn into good things and, in fact, they usually do” kind of way. One of the women I was with pointed out that my other friend had managed to succeed even when all the odds were against her. That she had done the hard work and it had made her stronger.  I sat there nodding my head and wondering how many other stories there are, unseen, unheralded, of people doing hard things so that their families can survive; so that they can honor their beliefs; so that someone else’s life can be a little brighter. How many?

But why do things have to be hard to be useful? Any athlete would be able to answer that question. Or a musician. Or ______. 

But this is not always what we are led to believe. In fact, I was flipping through a fancy summer catalogue the other day and came across the picture you see above. I couldn’t quite believe what I was reading: A kickboard you didn’t have to kick? One that was specifically meant for kids!? How was that possible? Have we really gotten that lazy, that self-indulgent as a culture to think this is a good idea for children?

My friend Daniel Pink has his own take on the issue as it relates to kids and school. He says, “children who are praised for “being smart” often believe that every encounter is a test of whether they really are. So to avoid looking dumb, they resist new challenges and choose the easiest path. By contrast, kids who understand that effort and hard work lead to mastery and growth are more willing to take on new, difficult tasks.”

― Daniel H. Pink, Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us


My younger brother had a classmate who used to say, in a strong German accent, “You must wooork to progress.” He'd gotten the idea.

So, what if you don’t know what to do next as the chapters of your life fly by? My only advice, from my own experience, is to decide what you are passionate about (child welfare; spiritual growth; writing; the environment) and then listen. Listen for the leadings that cause you to volunteer at your local food bank; or substitute teach; or write that book that is just below the surface. 

The fact is, if you’ve gotten to the point where you are asking these questions, you have already learned what you need. What you need in order to find a bigger purpose; to help in meaningful ways; to continue to matter. So that, as Ralph Waldo Emerson said, we might “ leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived — that is to have succeeded.”