Thoughts of Hazel, one of my heroes, comes to mind. She had her 89th birthday soon after our meeting. Still chewing on life, as if a piece of gristle, Hazel could put many to flight with her questions and ideas. It did not take long to learn the secret of this woman’s personal agility and mental acumen, as Hazel’s abilities were daily in demand. Her life is pledged to the care of a physically challenged daughter, then 56. This octogenarian is hot on the trail of what many, much younger folks have perhaps not even thought about: the pursuit of patience needed for moment-to-moment endurance. She was extraordinary.

Years back, Jessica Savitch interviewed Whoopi Goldberg on television. Whoopi told of her mother referring to her as “extra ordinary,” when she was a child. Whoopi said, “I used to think she meant extraordinary. But, all the time she just meant ‘extra ordinary.”’ Whoopi believed she could do extraordinary things. So, she has! Her keen ability to impersonate common people and ordinary events, while bringing humor to the mundane has enriched many lives. Historically, Whoopi has shared her extraordinary ability to shed delightful color on the simplicity and silliness of our everyday selves.

Clearly, the “extra ordinary” person Whoopi’s mother spoke of could best describe Hazel, my new found hero. She has not experienced fame, yet “extraordinary” describes Hazel well, as her dedication is carried with such grace and fortitude as to be challenging for some and encouraging for others.

So often we go through life longing for extraordinary experiences, eagerly awaiting the exceptional, the remarkable to take place. When all the time the real joy of living is found in being content with and discovering pleasure in the commonplace—in the present moment, especially while listening to the stories of others.

Extraordinary happenings of life, which always come, bring great surprise along with that occasional bit of rapture so good for the soul. However, if we are constantly on the hunt for the “peaks,” of finding what is superbly uncommon—the experiences that can titillate or otherwise thrill—then ordinary happenstances, like hearing the stories of another’s life, could just seem dull.

For sure, the conversation of a person who has traversed the earth for 7-9 decades can take a little more time and perhaps more patience while listening. Being in a hurry, may mean wisdom is lost. A prevalent “On with the action” mode of being is easy to slip into.

Fascinated by the unusual, all sorts of memorabilia entice us. We collect stamps, papers, dolls, books, bottles and old coins—antiques of every sort. And, what happens to people who have accumulated great age? Those seen as “spent” are warehoused far too often; as if human souls can be pushed into “attics” until “collected” by someone who stumbles onto the truth of their value . . . long after the person’s demise. Then they may exclaim, “Hey, this person had it together!” Yes, surely some must live out the last months and sometimes even years of their lives in care centers. But must they be deserted mentally and emotionally?

The following segment of a poem by William Wordsworth, the English poet (of 1770-1850), speaks of this:

“I heard a thousand blended notes,

While in a grove I sat reclined,

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts

Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

 

To her fair works did Nature link

The human soul that through me ran;

And much it grieved my heart to think

What man has made of man.”

There seems to be a bit of “bareness” as people reach their later years. But, what if we determine to affirm the elderly—the “antique people” and seek out their stories. Envision our ability to validate them in such ways as they feel there is still beauty and purpose in being here.

My dream for this year is for growth in the ability to enjoy the ordinary, while also honing in on the stories of my fellow globe-trotters. I want to listen better and be able to perceive their richness, solidity and wisdom. It is similar to how those of us who live in the Arizona desert develop a keen ability to see past barrenness, as our eyes are ever finding the beauty that is there for those who have the “eyes to see it.”

The Bible holds great hope. Psalm 92:12-14, shows people “in old age” as “still bearing fruit . . . fresh and flourishing, declaring their faith in the Lord.”

Way to go!