MANY PREACHERS AND religious writers have had a long history of writing about how “less is more” during the penitential seasons, both Advent and Lent; why, I’ve done it myself, in both genres.

It’s a good message in those times that seek to offer us a way to step back from our busy, or even too busy, lives. But these are temporary measures, a means of offsetting the busier and less solemn times of joy.

In my tradition, Advent and Lent are quiet times of preparation, with Christmas and Advent just around the corner.

I don’t mean this in any morbid sort of way, but I’ve realized that, following retirement from a very busy professional career teaching writing and literature, that I am at the very first steps of running out of time.

There aren’t all that many stages of life left, even though I am only in my mid-60s. The hubbie is slowing down, for sure, in his 70s, and has warned me that his days of putting together cheap furniture from Walmart and Amazon, as fun as it is for me to buy, is less so for him when having to fit part A to part EE (1 of 6).

As I write, he is on his very last table, but we’re beginning to go to resale shops such as Habitat for Humanity rather than adding to the burdens of the earth by filling up junk yards and dumps.

Meanwhile, my health has been, for years, a matter of patching together this elderly body of mine.

Basically, I have many small conditions that are each easily controlled, but that require balancing.

A simple ear infection can trigger vertigo that in turn triggers another set of symptoms.

My memory is still great, but I can find it difficult to put together words in real time.

God’s gift to me is that I find writing easier with each passing day, even if I occasionally fall down in a heap at the altar sometimes.

God’s other gift is that I can turn to my husband and tell him, as I did on Friday, “Oh, that’s not what I meant. Tell them what I was trying to say,” and after decades of living together, he can usually make things clear.

I know younger readers, if they’re reading me at all, are going “Poor guy, falling apart but he is really old.” But my older readers are saying, “That’s just my Tuesday.”

Some days we have energy, some days … not.

Now at this point, this kind of essay, the “I’m growing older, your turn is next” essay can take a celebratory turn: “look at all the wisdom I have!” And that’s true enough. I do know things now I wish I’d known in my 20s.

I sometimes wish people now in their 20s would listen to us older folks.

We have made mistakes, we have screwed up, but some of us fought like hell for civil rights and liberties.

We each, young and old alike, have things to say to each other and things to learn. Indigenous people are right to celebrate and honor their elders, but there is, for me and for others I know my age, another side: there is loss at this moment of life.

On one hand, as I put it to one of my pastors, “I may not want to be Type A anymore, but I don’t want to huddle at home either.”

I need to find a balance between always busy Martha and a quiet Mary, between activism and contemplation. It’s possible to have both.

My current crisis, and those around my age, is that we still are called to what we wish we could do, but find we can’t. We need a middle place.

As one person I know put it, “there are the go-go years, the slow-go years, and the no-go years.”

He was speaking of travel and even that is becoming as issue. Flying is just a bit much, not enough reward for the effort.

So my energy is shifting from the direct action I did as a deacon back in Louisiana and in my youth, to my current busy time as a writer, painter and musician. And while that may not be enough to some, and some days not enough for me, God will accept whatever we have to give.

And for young people, I have a prophetic word for you.We, Boomers, have screwed things up badly. It’s your turn.

I fought for equal access to HIV medications. You fight for what you want to fight for. But register to vote.

Run for school boards taking away the novels that describe your life in all its glory, wonder and wideness.

Kick all us old folks out from the power positions we hold.

We’re a dying breed. Make a quiet revolution.

Don’t trust our politics. Make your own.

________

Issues of Faith is a rotating column by religious leaders on the North Olympic Peninsula. The Rev. Dr. Keith Dorwick is a deacon resident in the Episcopal Diocese of Olympia.