And thereÂfore my opinÂion is, that when once forty years old we should conÂsidÂer our time of life as an age to which very few arrive; for seeÂing that men do not usuÂalÂly last so long, it is a sign that we are pretÂty well advanced; and since we have exceedÂed the bounds which make the true meaÂsure of life, we ought not to expect to go much furÂther. —Michel de MonÂtaigne
After his retireÂment at age 38, renaisÂsance essayÂist Michel de MonÂtaigne devotÂed sevÂerÂal pages to the subÂject of morÂtalÂiÂty, as pressÂing an issue for him as for the clasÂsiÂcal philosoÂphers he adored. And no less pressÂing an issue for us, of course. The brute fact of death aside, the qualÂiÂty of our lives has litÂtle in comÂmon with those of Cato, Seneca, or MonÂtaigne himÂself. We meet needs and wants with comÂmands to Alexa. We are beset by globÂal anxÂiÂeties they nevÂer imagÂined, and by remeÂdies that would have saved milÂlions in their time. Even in the age of Covid-19, life isn’t nearÂly so preÂcarÂiÂous as it was in 16th cenÂtuÂry France.
But whether we set the threshÂold at 40, 80, or 100, “to die of old age is a death rare, extraÂorÂdiÂnary, and sinÂguÂlar,” MonÂtaigne argued. Few attain it today. “It is the last and extremest sort of dying… the boundÂary of life beyond which we are not to pass, and which the law of nature has pitched for a limÂit not to be exceedÂed.” For these reaÂsons and more, we look to the very aged for wisÂdom: they have attained what most of us will not, and can only look backÂwards, seeÂing the fullÂness of life, if they have clarÂiÂty, in panoramÂic hindÂsight. Such vision is the subÂject of the 2016 short film above, in which three uniqueÂly lucid cenÂteÂnarÂiÂans disÂpense advice, reflect on their expeÂriÂence, and remÂiÂnisce about the jazz age.
“I have always been lucky,” says now-108-year-old Tereza HarpÂer. “I’ve nevÂer been unlucky.” No one lives to such an advanced age withÂout facÂing a litÂtle hardÂship. HarpÂer immiÂgratÂed to EngÂland from CzechoÂsloÂvaÂkia durÂing World War II to reunite with her father, who had been a prisÂonÂer of war. She lived to witÂness the many horÂrors of the 20th cenÂtuÂry and the many of the 21st so far. And yet, she says, “EveryÂthing makes me hapÂpy. I love talkÂing to peoÂple. I like doing things. I like going out shopÂping. Once I go out shopÂping, I don’t realÂly want to come back…. I’m not going yet. I’m still strong. I’m very very strong. I nevÂer realÂized how strong I am.” ”
What is the source of such strength and joy in the ordiÂnary repÂeÂtiÂtions of daiÂly life? A proÂfound conÂtentÂment marked by a sense of comÂpleÂtion, for one thing. “I don’t think there’s anyÂthing that I realÂly need to do,” HarpÂer says, “because I’ve done pracÂtiÂcalÂly everyÂthing that I’ve ever wantÂed to do in the past.” LikeÂwise, 101-year-old Cliff CroziÂer, who died last year, remarks, “I think I’ve done all that I wantÂed to do.” LatÂer, he adds some nuance: “I don’t have many failÂures,” he says. “If I’m makÂing a cake and it fails it becomes a pudÂding.” (He also says, “It always pleasÂes me that I can keep robÂbing the govÂernÂment with my penÂsion.”)
Are there regrets? NatÂuÂralÂly. 102-year-old John DenÂerÂley, who passed away in 2018, says rueÂfulÂly, “If I’d have been more attenÂtive at school in my earÂly life, I’d have studÂied more, and hardÂer…. Well, I didn’t do too bad in the end. But I think the soonÂer you start studyÂing the betÂter.” CroziÂer expressÂes regrets over the way he treatÂed his father, a relaÂtionÂship that still causÂes him grief. These three are not, after all, superÂhuÂmans. They are subÂject to the same pains as the rest of us. But they have achieved a vanÂtage from which to see the whole of life from its limÂit. Whether or not we achieve the same, we can all learn from them how to make the most of the “extraÂorÂdiÂnary forÂtune,” as MonÂtaigne wrote, “which has hithÂerÂto kept us above ground.”
RelatÂed ConÂtent:
Ram Dass (RIP) Offers WisÂdom on ConÂfronting Aging and Dying
Josh Jones is a writer and musiÂcian based in Durham, NC. FolÂlow him at @jdmagness
In 1978, we had a celÂeÂbraÂtion at our church for a man who turned 107. A news-crew was there to record the event, the Era of Live-teleÂviÂsion. Upon the Ron BurÂgundy-type anchor askÂing the man his secret to a long-life, the old man replied: “I have a steak, and a 6‑pack of Blue RibÂbon Beer, every day…and I get myself a colÂored-hookÂer to rock-my-world every week!” There was stunned-silence, could of heard a pin-drop. Good for him!