“He not busy being born is busy dying.”
                                                                                       - Bob Dylan

I never knew this lyric back in the day, but it has come to my attention lately for some reason – probably not random. Things seldom are.

It resonates strongly for me as I explore the third act of life. However, the ‘act’ in which we find ourselves doesn’t matter; the principle still applies.

I watch women like Jane Goodall, Joanna Macy, Pema Chodron, Barbara Marx Hubbard, (and need I mention Mother Teresa during her lifetime), all of whom are solidly into their third act and making themselves newer everyday. Authors/activists Jean Houston and Jean Shinoda Bolen qualify as well. They continue shaping the world with their wisdom and creativity.

Then I notice other women and men at this stage of life who, as far as I can tell, have checked out. Despite their physical body remaining Earth-bound, the spirit has given up trying. And they are ‘busy dying’. As sad as this is for the loved ones watching this regression, it is even sadder for the abandoned spirit and for the planet. These are our elders – the wise ones, with a wisdom earned through their years, tears, and triumphs. We need their insight, understanding and experience now more than ever.

What does it? What is it that creates the apathy, and the curtain call on that last act?

I see it as a kind of chicken and egg thing. Did their world start to dismiss them as useless or did they decide they were useless. Which came first?

The good news is that we’re getting smarter about the old pattern of creating silos in our Western society. We’re mixing up college students and seniors in the same residence. And there’s been some success with programs plopping primary school kids’ classes into seniors’ buildings. Everyone has more fun.

(I have always balked at being put with people my own age. What a drag! This is not to denigrate octogenarians. It’s simply about exploring other perspectives.)

And then there are those who are far from the last chapter of life, but are still ‘busy dying’. These souls have given up on their ‘wild and precious life’ for any number of reasons. It’s hard to watch – for anyone who loves life, but especially for the ones closest to these wretched souls. The Rx for those broken spirits that I recommend? Take a sabbatical and live out of doors. Nature is the great healer/restorer.

Suddenly I ask myself, “Why choose such a topic for exploration in this merry month of May?” It’s my favourite month. All of nature is singing! The Earth is laughing in flowers!

Well, yes. It’s ‘busy being born’ isn’t it?

AND a pair of robins just paid me the richest possible homage by building their nest on a joist under my front porch roof. Each day I watch as momma flies in and out with juicy worms and tidbits for those four starving chicks that never, ever close their beaks. In fact it takes both parents on the fly to staff the nest 24-seven! Four scrawny bobbing necks sway back and forth in constant motion like a child’s battery toy. Spring. Spring. Spring!

And at the same time, I learn that a longtime, dear, best friend passed away this week. Carol was ‘busy being born’ right up to the end and would have celebrated her 80th on June 1. Instead we will celebrate her entire lifetime on her 80th birthday.

The yin and the yang. The being born and the dying. The joy and the grief.

Here’s to life, and all the joy and grief that it holds for us! And here’s to making our shining self newer each day, facing the future with curiousity and openness and enthusiasm, no matter what.

Let’s wrap this up with one of my all-time favourite passages. It’s from ‘The Summer Day’ by Mary Oliver:


                                           Doesn’t everything die at last and too soon?
                                                   Tell me, what is it you plan to do
                                                with your one wild and precious life?