Note: This article is Day 8 of David Claassen’s book, Growing Older Gracefully: 31 Reflections on Finishing Well.
Pastor and writer Calvin Miller wrote in his memoir, “I’ll stop looking ahead and look around more.”4 He wrote these wise words later in life, when he was old enough to write a memoir. Growing older often means life slows, sometimes not, but most times, yes.
I sometimes ride my bicycle or take a walk on a road that I frequently drive with the car. I see, hear, and smell so much more when I travel the same mile on a bicycle or on a walk rather than in a car. Growing older is like traveling each day more at the speed of a bicycle or a walk rather than that of a car. The slowed pace offers the luxury of stopping and smelling the roses.
Yes, growing older can give the gift of slowed time. We older folks often have the time for embracing the moment and hugging the hour.
True, everyone has the same number of hours, minutes, and seconds in a day. However, we who are in the senior years aren’t as likely to cram as much into a given time as those who are in the child-rearing and working years. We can’t slow time, the clock ticks at the same tempo for everyone, but we can move along the timeline at a slower pace. A comparison is moving from microwave living to slow cooker living.
I’m wondering what would happen if an ant and a snail, meeting beneath a mushroom, could bridge the communication gap between species, having a conversation about time. Would the ant tell the snail he’s living nearly a stationary life? Would the snail tell the ant he’s but a blur going by? Time might be the same for both the ant and the snail, but it appears they experience time differently. Humans are the highest order of God’s created species, way above the ant and the snail. We have the God-given ability to choose how we handle the time we’ve been given on this earth.
Hurried living seems the norm but doesn’t always pay off. There’s the story of a man who hiked to the riverbank to catch a ferry. When he came around the last bend, he caught sight of the ferry that was about six feet from the dock. “I’m too late,” he thought to himself, then realized he could jump the distance from the dock to the ferry, so he ran as fast as he could. At the dock’s edge, he pushed himself into the air with all his might. He landed hard on the ferry’s deck, much relieved. The ferry pilot said, “Great jump! You made it. But you could have just waited. I’m coming in, not going out.” Hurried living is not always helpful for living well. In fact, we can, in our later years, find delight in taking a slower pace.
Years ago, my wife and I spent several days tent camping in Turkey Run State Park in Indiana. The area has about two dozen covered bridges, built in the late 1800s or early 1900s. Each bridge has its name painted on both ends, along with the reminder, “Cross the Bridge at a Walk.” The warning goes back to the horse and buggy days. People believed that letting horses run across the bridge would cause enough vibration that would damage the bridge.
People were often in a hurry way back then, much as they are today. Now more than ever, we should take the warning to heart. Instead of “Cross the Bridge at a Walk” we might say “Take Life at a Walk.” We who are in our senior years are in the best place for putting this into practice, modeling it for those who are younger.
For three years, Jesus journeyed around a significant part of what we now call the Holy Land. We read in the Gospels that he walked or took a boat from place to place, frequently with his disciples alongside him. His was not a fast pace—along with being rowed in a boat, he walked. We don’t have record that he ever jogged. He took boats propelled by oars or wind. They didn’t have speed boats back then. The disciples, if they were to follow him as he instructed them, had to set their pace to match their Master’s.
The slower pace during the senior years allows for experiencing the Lord’s presence more deeply. He is with us, and we are with him every moment. At a slower pace, our moments with Him are sweeter. The psalmist affirmed, “Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, Lord. They rejoice in your name all day long; they celebrate your righteousness” (Psalm 89:15–16).
Once I found a tortoise on the campground where we stayed. Being a serious amateur photographer, I’m always looking for interesting and creative images to photograph. In this case, I placed my wristwatch on the tortoise’s back, then took its picture.
“Tortoise Time” is the title I gave the image. We seniors can rejoice in having given up much of the rat race to living more at the tortoise’s speed.
Unless we have an early doctor’s appointment or must watch the grandkids, we usually don’t have to jump start the day with the alarm clock. We can slowly drift into consciousness, though a demanding full bladder might speed up that awakening process. What a blessing to retire the alarm clock when we retire.
The blessing of a leisured pace means we can allow more time for reading. Regular trips to the library can become part of the weekly routine. A slower pace also gives an opportunity for exploring extended time in prayer. My daily prayer walk formerly was about twenty minutes in length. Now, it is about an hour. A relaxed pace can afford us the option for connecting with people more, either in person, by phone, through email, messaging, or even texting.
The blessing of slowed time provides us with opportunities for blessing those around us, who are younger and in the rush hours of their lives. When they’re with us, they must slow their pace to match ours, if there’s to be any meaningful relating, especially if we refuse to increase our pace. We can gently help them slow their racing thoughts, transforming them into reflective thoughts, even if for a short time, replacing some rushing with some resting. When they share a meal with us, they’re not “grabbing lunch” but savoring a meal.
Slowed time as a senior also means we can give our undivided attention to others. We don’t have one eye on the clock, so we can focus both eyes on the one with whom we’re in conversation. We have time for listening, for building in long pauses between what they say and our response. This is a precious gift for the children in our sphere of influence. Their parents are often busy, sometimes distracted. We can fill the gap.
Arrival in our senior years brings with it the sobering reality that we don’t have unlimited time here on earth. This perspective can prompt a deeper appreciation for the time we have left, intentionally holding on to each moment, embracing it, making the most of it. We don’t have to rush on to what’s next but can appreciate what’s now. This is unwrapping the gift of slowed time.
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