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Aug. 13th, 2024 at 3:48 AM
Geeks find an obsessive interest that most others don’t share, then pursue it intelligently. That’s why they’re having so much success at the Summer Games.
My neighbor lived to be 109. This is what I learned from him.
Nurse began working at hospital during WWII and hasn’t stopped. She’s 97.
(great story but a somewhat misleading title)
Comments
Yay nerds!
He learned early — and never forgot — that the crucial measure of one’s existence is not its length but its depth.
This is the message at the end of one of my favorite poems, "A Measure of Life", by Marjorie Wright Miller:
Whether the notes of life are short or long,
From end to end what matters is the song
Thank you, I shall have to look that poem up. There's a somewhat similar one by Ella Wheeler Wilcox--
Our Lives
Our lives are songs. God writes the words,
And we set them to music at pleasure;
And the song grows glad, or sweet, or sad,
As we choose to fashion the measure.
We must write the music, whatever the song,
Whatever its rhyme, or metre;
And if it is sad, we can make it glad,
Or if sweet, we can make it sweeter.
One has a song that is free and strong;
But the music he writes is minor;
And the sad, sad strain is replete with pain,
And the singer becomes a repiner.
And he thinks God gave him a dirge-like lay,
Nor knows that the words are cheery;
And the song seems lonely and solemn--only
Because the music is dreary.
And the song of another has through the words
An under current of sadness;
But he sets it to music of ringing chords,
And makes it a pean of gladness.
So whether our songs are sad or not,
We can give the world more pleasure,
And better ourselves, by setting the words
To a glad, triumphant measure.
The smallest flower that breathes but a day
Distills its fragrance into sweet perfume
Garbs itself with grace in bright array
Exquisite, brief intensity in bloom
Whether the notes of life are short or long,
From end to end what matters is the song.
But (and this isn't relevant to the article) I think there's a big difference between being Stoic about and for oneself, and enjoining Stoicism on others. Particularly when they're suffering.
I had a kind of funny experience here last week. I consented to be stopped by a fundraiser for a Kidney Research society on the high street, and I was even going to spot a small donation. (I declined to sign up for a small monthly donation. I have already visited more than enough of those on Sheeyun, should I predecease him.) During the course of what he (but not I) knew was signing me up for the eternal dribble, he asked for my date of birth, which I gave. He appeared genuinely startled and exclaimed "You're in good form! How do you do it?" I am 64. It's a variable-looking age, but my appearance is well within the central standards for the age, I think. Feeling blank, I said "good genes and being interested in everything." Which would indeed by my advice.
(There's a big class gap visible in appearances here in Yorkshire. But Harrogate is famously full of the ancient rich. Maybe the young man was from out of town, though.)
An interesting experience ;)