by Dr. Kevin Purcell, D.C.
As we mature and move onward, so may the way we view our health, and by extension, performance.
Performance can be measured in the work place, in a home setting, in our communities, as mentors or in any number of athletic endeavors. Then there is the all-important measurements done “in our heads.” Each of the areas probably age in different ways and some of them seem to overlap.
Readers have probably heard the expression “getting old sucks.” I feel the ache each morning out of bed. My feet, my back; like the tin man! No doubt, that saying came from somebody who was aging because aging supplies that kind of context. Drilling deeper, a guy or gal expressing that feeling, in any number of ways, may recall strong memories of “what it used to be like.”
To be clear, in my view, there is nothing wrong with holding onto memories of the good old days unless the memories make the good new days seem less good. Making the present seem less attractive by focusing on memories of the past is not productive; and unless you live alone or in a cave it has the unintended risk of affecting those around you. Thanks for reading because I am lecturing myself on this point. I find that publicly sharing a goal to do better helps hold me accountable.
To be fair, relative high levels of performance typically do not happen by accident; and that means we invested years, countless hours, sacrifice and an emotional toll that went into a personal best in any area of a life. Hopefully, the hard work brought a modicum of lasting happiness of deeds well done. If not, it could be viewed as time spent in an odd way.
There are legit reasons why a person would let a skill fade or disappear that they had worked decades toward mastering it. Perhaps no longer being able to employ that skill at a level that was once a “joy” is enough of a reason. I don’t offer any judgment. I have enough trouble trying to figure me out, let alone somebody else’s motivation.
I recently enjoyed an indie film titled “The Last Quartet”. In it, Christopher Walken plays a hypersensitive aging cellist. He is diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease and cannot continue to perform at a world class level for long so he plans to stop playing music altogether. He proposes to the quartet that he retire after they perform Beethoven’s celebrated String Quartet No. 14 in C-sharp minor (Op. 131). He explains to a music class that this technically and physically demanding work must be played without pauses for more than 40 minutes, leaving the musicians with no time to retune.
Done badly, Walken’s character explains, the piece can end up a mess. The metaphor of music as life is clear. “What are we supposed to do?” he asks of Beethoven’s quartet. “Stop? Or to continuously adjust to each other up to the end, even if we are out of tune?”
I propose that we continually adjust to ourselves and changing environments; even grow. I wish I had started riding my bike in a serious way 30 years ago. I’d be really good at it! And that reminds me of the exchange I had with my future wife, LP, a professionally trained jazz saxophonist, thirty-seven years ago. I was twenty one and she was nineteen and it is/was powerful:
KP “I wish I could play the saxophone like you do.”
LP: “Apparently not badly enough.”
Keep it rolling….
change graphic via shutterstock.com
Dr. Kevin Purcell, DC. Dedicated to serving others …