Have a look at this week's New York magazine, which honors nine current high achievers who are in their nineties or over a hundred. (In their hundreds?)
For example, composer Elliott Carter has published 14 new pieces of music since he turned 100.
Turning through the portraits in New York, I was wowed and inspired by what it's possible to do (as long as you're breathing.)
Though maybe it helps to breathe Manhattan air (the location of my most recent and delightful "bonus life" adventure.)
Bold Bonus Life Tip #3: Age is no deterrent. You can get an extra life at any age.
Here's a provocative and bracing quote sent by Mamie of Can I Do It?
Risk! Risk anything! Care no more for the opinions of others, for those voices. Do the hardest thing on earth for you. Act for yourself. Face the truth. - Katherine Mansfield
Now, taking this literally, the hardest thing on earth for me would be doing one of several things that I don't want done.
But the hardest thing that needs doing? That I'm in favor of. I almost always save answering the most complicated email until last -- and then maybe waiting a day. And I'd love to stop doing that. So why don't I? It's not exactly saber-toothed tigers I'm fighting here.
Bold Bonus Life Tip #2: An "extra life" could simply be a period of sticking to a resolution. This never occurred to me until now. One could decide to get a personal trainer for three months...or volunteer an afternoon a week for x period ... or meet all deadlines early for a set period. Or, what the hell, have red wine and dark chocolate daily for a while. This kind of bonus life could spill over into the regular one, which could (maybe) be a good thing.
My own most recent "extra life" was, as regular readers here know, the 18 days I spent in August as a New Yorker. I was apartment-sitting on the Upper West Side. For a year and a half, I'd had in mind the goal of enjoying a spell as a Manhattanite. It was a 60th birthday present to myself and I'm now veering dangerously close to 62.
So it took me a little while to get there, but I did and it was marvelously satisfying. I do feel as if I had an extra life. And it was my third one. The first was a month at Berkeley when I was 29, a grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities to study fiction. The second, three months in the Hindu holy city of Varanasi when I was 42, was when I did my research for my novel Sister India.
I'm now a permanent fan of the idea of fitting in extra lives: abridged immersions in other places, cultures, or jobs. Experiences so different from the usual, and so concentrated and intense, that they truly feel like a different life.
I mean to keep a running list of tips and thoughts and experiments here on the subject. Starting now.
Bonus Life Tip #One: Try out a bonus life with a different career. There are companies that offer the opportunity. Example: Vocation Vacations. Here's a chance to try out (very briefly) the experience of being, say, a chocolatier, a music producer, a horse trainer, a wedding planner, a bed and breakfast owner. This is one way to go get a tiny extra life in a different career.
Maybe you build and repair your own cars and refrigerators and such, but not me.
I like instant oatmeal. Processed foods. Processed plumbing. Things already done.
But now and then in the case of my familiar trusty sits-with-me-all-day computer, I get the idea I can fix a problem myself.
Now and then I can and it's greatly satisfying.
But just now I tried to fix a little problem with my blog and accidentally wiped out my entire blogroll. My whole set of lists of links.
And I don't even know yet if I solved the original problem.
Well, I'm told that scientists, inventors, artists, CEOs, etc. should always embrace failure because it shows that we're taking enough risks.
So I'm embracing my lack of a blogroll and calling it a FRESH START.
And I will not let this deter me from further attempts at minor fixes.
Ooh--just stumbled onto an article in the Chicago Tribune that tells me: "'Fear of fixing things is typical of women in their 40s, 50s and 60s... because they were reared to believe that only men are capable of doing home repairs.'"
But the article came out in 1987 so it applies to women who are now at least two years older than me. I certainly don't want to be a predictable stereotype.
Do you fix things? Or hesitate/refuse to? Down with stereotypes!
I was just Friended by a writer in California I haven't met, Nina Vida. (We have lots of friends in common.) I looked at her page and was inspired.
It begins: "When I'm tempted to look at life as a series of successes and failures I remind myself that the journey is all."
Note: she became a writer at 50 and now has seven books out from major publishers, most recently The Texicans from Soho Press (with a Starred Review from Publishers Weekly. And she looks about 51, maybe.
Also on her page: "Don't let anyone tell you you're too old to do something you want to do."
This is a woman who is packing in an extra life or two.
Cherished careers don’t always stay on track from beginning to end – especially in wobbly economic times.
This can be frightening and painful. A bonus life as a grocery bagger is not what anybody went to school to prepare for.
A commencement speaker at Harvard Divinity School, Professor Kimberley C. Patton, thinks that in profound ways, the difficult, uncertain periods are a good thing.
“…In these career detours, lie gestation and receptivity, what the Japanese call "hollowness" to the divine. In these nonproductive times, new things are hatching, being born in the darkness, if only we do not panic.”
How to avoid this panic?
Simply remember that the time may be very useful, that good things are germinating that cannot be forced. Keep coming back to that thought, because it so easily slips away.
I made this announcement yesterday on Facebook and the responses have been so lovely and enthusiastic that I'm going to keep on posting the news everywhere. (Of course, I have other good reasons as well.) Here it is:
My brother Harry Payne is running for the NC Court of Appeals, election day in November. His expertise is labor and employment law--and being a particularly good guy, scrupulously ethical and fair. He has served six terms in the state Legislature, two terms as state Labor Commissioner, and 7 years as the Employment Security Commissioner.
If you're a NCian, please vote for brother Harry Payne in November. His big sister thanks you.
One of the ultimate bold acts, in my view, is to take an unblinking look at one's finances.
I've just read a book that has relieved me of that dread -- and of the guilt and blame that come from discovering the precise results of one's less good decisions.
Figure out the message I got about money in childhood. Replay a specific moment that gave me that idea and catch on that maybe I misinterpreted what was going on, maybe I jumped to some unnecessary conclusions. Come up with some other possible endings to the story.
Okay, just reading this summary of mine, I have to say it doesn't sound so convincing. But for me, it has already worked.
So, if you have mental money issues, forget my little summary and get the book.
(A clear-eyed bold approach to money is very helpful in setting up an extra life.)
It's almost a week now since I returned from my 18-day bonus extra life as a New Yorker.
I've noticed a couple of significant after-effects of having tucked in this Plan B Life.
1. I feel very optimistic, as if almost any good thing is possible (and I'm capable of making it happen.)
2. I've been ordering different items for lunch (stuffed pepper!?) at the cafeteria, not my old "regulars."
3. I've had to go off of the dessert-and-pasta binge that I enjoyed so much as a New Yorker.
Number One is a very nice feeling, and likely to be more productive than the rather worn-down feeling I had at the time I got the welcome invitation to apartment-sit on the Upper West Side.
I've had this sudden attitude change happen once before, immediately after my first extra life: when I spent a month as "a Berkeley student" when I was twenty-nine and had received a National Endowment for the Humanities grant to attend a fiction seminar on the California campus.
Shortly after I returned, I passed an acquaintance in the grocery store who abruptly said: "You changed. It changed you."
I didn't feel any different except in one way. My thought was: if I can get the federal government to send me to the Bay area for a month to read good novels and listen to jazz and hang out with a major literary critic and interesting writers from all over the country, there's just no telling what I can do.
And that's when I started publishing fairly frequently in national magazines.
Number Two? Changing my lunch menu? Well, that's not a huge deal, but does indicate that I'm making conscious decisions rather than staying in a rut.
Number Three: What a mistake it was to schedule my annual physical a few days after a major prolonged sugar experience. I flunked triglycerides, and now must eat virtuously.
I'd heard the name Kickstarter, but somehow the startling opportunity there didn't register until recently when my artist stepson Jay Dick brought a particular project to my attention.
Kickstarter is a site/service that allows "artists, designers, filmmakers, musicians, journalists, inventors, explorers..." to raise money for their projects. People can pledge any amount for a project that strikes their fancy, in return for rewards if the project is fully funded. If the full amount isn't raised, then no cash changes hands.
Jay alerted me to a project he's helping to support: for creation of a major catalogue on the work of John M. White. From the project description:
"White has made a significant contribution to California art for more than four decades. An innovative and highly respected performance artist, accomplished painter, sculptor, and inspirational teacher, White has exhibited consistently to overwhelmingly positive reviews. In spite of his remarkable accomplishments, White’s groundbreaking oeuvre is not nearly as well known as that of many of his contemporaries. This retrospective exhibition seeks to locate White’s work in the place of prominence it deserves."
The goal is to raise $7500; and the more money raised, the more extensive and well-designed the catalogue will be. Today there are 33 days left in the fund-raising period, and the money pledged is more than 200% of the goal. Obviously a lot of people care that this project be accomplished and done well. It's surely going to produce one great-looking catalogue.
This kind of money-gathering is called "crowd funding." It identifies a market as well as bringing in bucks.
Think of the possibilities: essentially you could pre-sell books or other art. You could put an invention into production. So Bold!!
If you have a project that needs a financial kickstart, go get it. And let us know when your project is up on the site.
And congratulations to John M. White, Jay Dick, and other White supporters.
Writing Books, Seeking God, Teaching Writing, and Coping with OCD
I’m a writer who dodged being a minister; I saw that my dharma, my calling, was instead to write about body and spirit, to explore in fiction my metaphysical questions. I’ve spent the past 35+ years as a freelancer, with 2 novels, 2 nonfiction books, magazine and newspaper articles from 25+ countries, a few seasons as a TV reporter, copy for ad agencies, a winter in India, and my manuscript and career consulting services for writers.
It’s not because I’m naturally lion-hearted that I’ve chosen the topic of bold living and bold writing. It’s because I aspire to living and writing with courage. I wrestle with these matters; I even have a touch of an anxiety disorder, specifically obsessive-compulsive disorder. You probably know the saying: we teach what we need to learn.
I post here about daily fears and triumphs, about writing and, if I ever get my courage up, about mysticism, the ultimate brazen act: direct experience of God. I hope you’ll leap into the wide-ranging conversation here and come back often. I hope you’ll find the talk here encouraging for your own adventures.
"Everything Peggy Payne has critiqued for me has gotten published and in venues such as Image, Shenandoah, and The Missouri Review. Her advice on structure was indispensable in revising my memoir, Gods of Noonday."
