There are a dozen different lives I wish to live. We only get one, but we can have etas. I loved my college era and young children era. I loved my newspaper editor era. My current poor-writer era isn’t bad and my second marriage is warm and rewarding. Grandchildren are everything. Denied to me were my desires to work at the NYT, have more children, achieve any level of financial security, write The Great American Novel, travel the world and move in literary circles. Conversely, I also didn’t end up with a hobby farm, which I somehow also thought I wanted. I’m 58. Maybe there is more to come.
At 58, your future is well ahead of you. Time to do loads of things. I speak from the grand old age of 82 (a doddery age in today’s newspapers, but I still write- and think - and stand on my head). Here’s to some surprises yet to come. And I agree with you wholeheartedly about grandchildren.
Well, I don't know anything about you, but I am always keen to tell people that – with a little bit of luck – you can keep going and having an interesting life. My father started an affair at the age of 90! I have written things all my life, but I'm sure my best stuff has been in the last ten years. I have actually written a book about why I like being old, with the same title as my Substack. And come look at me stand on my head (there's a two minute video). And the older we get, we have so much to give. No 58 is just getting started!
There's a saying attributed to some anonymous Rabbi, "May you have many troubles." It sounds like a curse, but it's meant as a blessing because if you have many troubles, then none of them are so terrible as to be overwhelming. So you have many shadows, which i think is better than just one big one.
Like many, I’ve had pretty significant shadows in the past few years. There’s really nothing you can do but keep moving forward. I always keep Churchill’s advice in mind: “When you’re going through hell, keep going.” It helps to remember prior hells you’ve managed to walk through.
At the end of the novel, one of the greatest in our language, Wharton shows that Archer has become one of the architects of New York’s institutions and has lived a very useful life. She suggests that our civilization is built on the personal sacrifices of such people. So it’s a sort of happy ending, though not exactly for him.
True, Harvey, that he/Wharton tries to rationalize his life. He calls himself a "brick" in the wall. Still, his memories of the Countess affect him so that he won't go upstairs to see her. My reading of it is that he's still lost in his fantasies. But it's a credit to the book that we can find different meanings and nuances.
Love this post and can very much relate to it. I think the general culture puts a lot of weight on the individual by suggesting that if we don't go after our dreams is for lack of trying hard enough. But the reasons could me so many and many times the main reason is because our ambitions were not meant to be realized to begin with. As hard as it is to do it there is a lot of peace to be found in that realization.
I wish there were more choices than the "like" button here. Because I LOVED this essay. You showed me your vulnerability and the honesty with which you view(ed) your life and aspirations.
"As much as I tell myself that my grand ambitions have always been at odds with my character, periodically my hopes and regrets still rise up. Something will happen to convince me that I possess exceptional problem solving and decision making skills, and that I should use them on a bigger stage."
You are using your skills, especially as a forthcoming, expressive writer on this bigger stage called Substack. You've given me so much to think about today. No regrets! We are living the lives we're meant to live, realizing our true natures, and sharing ourselves in bold and generous ways.
As always, I hung onto every word of yours. I think anyone can profoundly see themselves through your longing, as well as viscerally feel yours specifically - which is such a fantastic talent.
So maybe you’re not ruthless, but I would say - at least in this regard - you’re pretty magnificent.
I loved these lines: “He never understood that had he succeeded in escaping with Countess Olenska, it would have been a disaster. He never fully grasped that his appeal to the Countess was wrapped up in her admiration for his sense of duty and doing the right thing, and that by running away with her, he would have squandered that appeal.”
How that is so true of all the things we overly fantasize about, achieve and then eventually wish we could slowly back away from…
Thanks Cici. Yes, I would have been disaster as a politician or as bureaucrat in the state department. My batteries and my patience can run out very quickly.
I too wanted to be a big behind-the-scenes influencer until I got to university and began to see how complicated decisions were. My somewhat introverted personality would have been a problem but my much bigger problem would have been knowing what to advise! The occasional question has an obvious answer but much more often, it’s on the one hand x but on the other hand y would happen. It’s a real killer for decision making! In the end, I became a researcher, helping others to understand the world and make the decisions.
It's great when you find out what you enjoy and are good at. Your example of helping decision makers as opposed to being the decision maker is a wonderful one.
Yes, another example of my good luck. I fell into a job as a junior researcher at the London School of Economics, as it was something I could do part-time with a small baby. Neither desk research nor interviews are time-sensitive as long as they get done, so I was given a lot of freedom – and it was not normal for mothers to work in 1970. It was only later that I realised it was a job I was good at and suited my personality. I eventually went freelance and did all sorts of research jobs, as well as writing for hire, until my 70s.
Your secret power appears to be introspection. A blessing and a curse. My husband was a brilliant mind, leaping over the pedantic stepping stones the rest of us doomed to tread. His Vp told me he was the smartest and most honest man he ever met. A man of few words but brilliant ideas. He was saved from the torture of philosophic musings by his childhood. On a farm without running water or electricity! He told me once there was no time to do anything but focus on growing the wheat to stay alive. Although he had dreams of many poetical things, very Victorian.
This is the key: "I eventually came to realize that my youthful ambitions were fantastical because making them happen was diametrically opposed to my character traits and abilities." Dreams may be fantasy and yet they are where many start in order to fulfill their ambitions and desires. A friend once said to me, "Nothing ever was except it was first a dream." I came across this quote from gratefulness.org which seems to fit here: "There are many fine things which you mean to do some day, under what you think will be more favorable circumstances. But the only time that is yours is the present." Grenville Kleiser
My question is do you have any dreams now that propel you forward?
This is spot on, David, as you are pursuing a "dream" of becoming a writer and the evidence is clearly in your favor. That it is taking you forward seems to be sign of a positive addition in your life and work. Who knew 10 years ago that you would become a writer with this new vocation? Maybe you did. When we love what we do, it's good work and a joy to pursue. This is a good example of the difference between work and a job. I call a job what we sometimes have to do to get to our work. I enjoy your writing as one of your loyal readers. Thank you for your continuing contributions!
You have to listen even harder for the knock that does come, for the sound of the one that does come and the one that doesn't are almost indistinguishable. I still keep my ear cupped. It keeps me alive - though I don't hear as well as I used to.
This is wonderful. I enjoyed reading this as a 20 year old— on the cusp of decisions and wondering what I’ll think of myself in 30 years, looking back at myself right now.
Thanks Julianne. You'll have the great advantage of being able to look back at your Substack posts and know what you were feeling and thinking (and what delicious food you were making!).
Love this self-analysis and connection to Newland Archer. I left one life and started another at 51., quit a good job, left a safe little East Coast town for L.A., on my own. 12 years later, I don't regret it but it has taken a huge toll and didn't turn out as I imagined. There was some magical thinking going on, to be sure. Sometimes I feel that all thinking is magical thinking...but that too may be magical thinking. Thank you for this post.
Absolutely beautiful. I love how you braided your personal experiences with the literary and historical, and with your larger cultural observations about longing. I will definitely share this piece during our final week of the read-a-long!!
At the moment I feel like I'm living in one big long shadow. Not of regret, but of "what might have beens." What if the professor who ruthlessly cut down Alice Munro in a writing workshop hadn't also intimidated and frightened me out of the creative writing program at UVic? What if I became the photo journalist/documentary filmmaker I had always dreamed of becoming? Now that my kids are grown and I am faced with a major life and career transition, I am finding myself trying to go back and find the threads that were dropped when I was young. To see if there is anything there I can mine to guide me towards my future self. The only thing I've come across so far is the writing, and even there I feel woefully inadequate most days. On the brighter side, I did get a knock on my door yesterday. An old colleague who wanted to ask me to work on the upcoming provincial election setting up the various polling stations and training people. So, maybe this is the knock that will send me in a direction I hadn't even yet imagined for myself. At least for a time.
We MUST talk West Wing. I inhabit many characters, but if I have a favorite it's Toby. So you and I have to walk briskly down a corridor someday trading witticisms!
There are a dozen different lives I wish to live. We only get one, but we can have etas. I loved my college era and young children era. I loved my newspaper editor era. My current poor-writer era isn’t bad and my second marriage is warm and rewarding. Grandchildren are everything. Denied to me were my desires to work at the NYT, have more children, achieve any level of financial security, write The Great American Novel, travel the world and move in literary circles. Conversely, I also didn’t end up with a hobby farm, which I somehow also thought I wanted. I’m 58. Maybe there is more to come.
At 58, your future is well ahead of you. Time to do loads of things. I speak from the grand old age of 82 (a doddery age in today’s newspapers, but I still write- and think - and stand on my head). Here’s to some surprises yet to come. And I agree with you wholeheartedly about grandchildren.
Thank you for saying this. My mother died at 50, my only sister at 52, so I always feel I’m on borrowed time.
Well, I don't know anything about you, but I am always keen to tell people that – with a little bit of luck – you can keep going and having an interesting life. My father started an affair at the age of 90! I have written things all my life, but I'm sure my best stuff has been in the last ten years. I have actually written a book about why I like being old, with the same title as my Substack. And come look at me stand on my head (there's a two minute video). And the older we get, we have so much to give. No 58 is just getting started!
Ann,
I love that attitude.
Hi Michelle,
There's a saying attributed to some anonymous Rabbi, "May you have many troubles." It sounds like a curse, but it's meant as a blessing because if you have many troubles, then none of them are so terrible as to be overwhelming. So you have many shadows, which i think is better than just one big one.
Like many, I’ve had pretty significant shadows in the past few years. There’s really nothing you can do but keep moving forward. I always keep Churchill’s advice in mind: “When you’re going through hell, keep going.” It helps to remember prior hells you’ve managed to walk through.
At the end of the novel, one of the greatest in our language, Wharton shows that Archer has become one of the architects of New York’s institutions and has lived a very useful life. She suggests that our civilization is built on the personal sacrifices of such people. So it’s a sort of happy ending, though not exactly for him.
True, Harvey, that he/Wharton tries to rationalize his life. He calls himself a "brick" in the wall. Still, his memories of the Countess affect him so that he won't go upstairs to see her. My reading of it is that he's still lost in his fantasies. But it's a credit to the book that we can find different meanings and nuances.
Love this post and can very much relate to it. I think the general culture puts a lot of weight on the individual by suggesting that if we don't go after our dreams is for lack of trying hard enough. But the reasons could me so many and many times the main reason is because our ambitions were not meant to be realized to begin with. As hard as it is to do it there is a lot of peace to be found in that realization.
Thanks Mariella for the comment.
Wonderful read. Here because I, too, was moved by Laurie Stone’s essay. Thank you for the recommendation of the closely reading stack.
You're very welcome.
I wish there were more choices than the "like" button here. Because I LOVED this essay. You showed me your vulnerability and the honesty with which you view(ed) your life and aspirations.
"As much as I tell myself that my grand ambitions have always been at odds with my character, periodically my hopes and regrets still rise up. Something will happen to convince me that I possess exceptional problem solving and decision making skills, and that I should use them on a bigger stage."
You are using your skills, especially as a forthcoming, expressive writer on this bigger stage called Substack. You've given me so much to think about today. No regrets! We are living the lives we're meant to live, realizing our true natures, and sharing ourselves in bold and generous ways.
Thank you, David.
Thanks Nan for the generous comment, which means a lot to me.
As always, I hung onto every word of yours. I think anyone can profoundly see themselves through your longing, as well as viscerally feel yours specifically - which is such a fantastic talent.
So maybe you’re not ruthless, but I would say - at least in this regard - you’re pretty magnificent.
I loved these lines: “He never understood that had he succeeded in escaping with Countess Olenska, it would have been a disaster. He never fully grasped that his appeal to the Countess was wrapped up in her admiration for his sense of duty and doing the right thing, and that by running away with her, he would have squandered that appeal.”
How that is so true of all the things we overly fantasize about, achieve and then eventually wish we could slowly back away from…
Thanks Cici. Yes, I would have been disaster as a politician or as bureaucrat in the state department. My batteries and my patience can run out very quickly.
I too wanted to be a big behind-the-scenes influencer until I got to university and began to see how complicated decisions were. My somewhat introverted personality would have been a problem but my much bigger problem would have been knowing what to advise! The occasional question has an obvious answer but much more often, it’s on the one hand x but on the other hand y would happen. It’s a real killer for decision making! In the end, I became a researcher, helping others to understand the world and make the decisions.
Ann,
It's great when you find out what you enjoy and are good at. Your example of helping decision makers as opposed to being the decision maker is a wonderful one.
Yes, another example of my good luck. I fell into a job as a junior researcher at the London School of Economics, as it was something I could do part-time with a small baby. Neither desk research nor interviews are time-sensitive as long as they get done, so I was given a lot of freedom – and it was not normal for mothers to work in 1970. It was only later that I realised it was a job I was good at and suited my personality. I eventually went freelance and did all sorts of research jobs, as well as writing for hire, until my 70s.
Your secret power appears to be introspection. A blessing and a curse. My husband was a brilliant mind, leaping over the pedantic stepping stones the rest of us doomed to tread. His Vp told me he was the smartest and most honest man he ever met. A man of few words but brilliant ideas. He was saved from the torture of philosophic musings by his childhood. On a farm without running water or electricity! He told me once there was no time to do anything but focus on growing the wheat to stay alive. Although he had dreams of many poetical things, very Victorian.
Thanks Kathryn. Your husband sounds like a fascinating man.
This is the key: "I eventually came to realize that my youthful ambitions were fantastical because making them happen was diametrically opposed to my character traits and abilities." Dreams may be fantasy and yet they are where many start in order to fulfill their ambitions and desires. A friend once said to me, "Nothing ever was except it was first a dream." I came across this quote from gratefulness.org which seems to fit here: "There are many fine things which you mean to do some day, under what you think will be more favorable circumstances. But the only time that is yours is the present." Grenville Kleiser
My question is do you have any dreams now that propel you forward?
Thanks Gary.
Writing is the vocation that propels me forward. Where it might lead I don't know, but it seems to fit with what i like to do.
This is spot on, David, as you are pursuing a "dream" of becoming a writer and the evidence is clearly in your favor. That it is taking you forward seems to be sign of a positive addition in your life and work. Who knew 10 years ago that you would become a writer with this new vocation? Maybe you did. When we love what we do, it's good work and a joy to pursue. This is a good example of the difference between work and a job. I call a job what we sometimes have to do to get to our work. I enjoy your writing as one of your loyal readers. Thank you for your continuing contributions!
This is a beautiful piece. Thank you, David. Love your writing!
Thanks Rachel.
You have to listen even harder for the knock that does come, for the sound of the one that does come and the one that doesn't are almost indistinguishable. I still keep my ear cupped. It keeps me alive - though I don't hear as well as I used to.
Definitely a Koan, Sam!
This is wonderful. I enjoyed reading this as a 20 year old— on the cusp of decisions and wondering what I’ll think of myself in 30 years, looking back at myself right now.
Thanks Julianne. You'll have the great advantage of being able to look back at your Substack posts and know what you were feeling and thinking (and what delicious food you were making!).
I read The Age of Innocence in a 92nd St Y writing workshop taught by Sandra Newman! I **love** that novel 🖤
Thank you David! Wonderful essay. Oh I have all kinds of unfulfilled ghosts pulling at me. It gives life a nice patina 😅
Thanks Rasha. Is it your favorite Edith Wharton?
Yes it is!
Love this self-analysis and connection to Newland Archer. I left one life and started another at 51., quit a good job, left a safe little East Coast town for L.A., on my own. 12 years later, I don't regret it but it has taken a huge toll and didn't turn out as I imagined. There was some magical thinking going on, to be sure. Sometimes I feel that all thinking is magical thinking...but that too may be magical thinking. Thank you for this post.
Thanks Kirsten,
Your comment reminds me of my favorite Milton quote: "The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven."
Absolutely beautiful. I love how you braided your personal experiences with the literary and historical, and with your larger cultural observations about longing. I will definitely share this piece during our final week of the read-a-long!!
Thanks Haley. You've made this reading experience a tremendous pleasure.
At the moment I feel like I'm living in one big long shadow. Not of regret, but of "what might have beens." What if the professor who ruthlessly cut down Alice Munro in a writing workshop hadn't also intimidated and frightened me out of the creative writing program at UVic? What if I became the photo journalist/documentary filmmaker I had always dreamed of becoming? Now that my kids are grown and I am faced with a major life and career transition, I am finding myself trying to go back and find the threads that were dropped when I was young. To see if there is anything there I can mine to guide me towards my future self. The only thing I've come across so far is the writing, and even there I feel woefully inadequate most days. On the brighter side, I did get a knock on my door yesterday. An old colleague who wanted to ask me to work on the upcoming provincial election setting up the various polling stations and training people. So, maybe this is the knock that will send me in a direction I hadn't even yet imagined for myself. At least for a time.
P.S. I watch and re-watch West Wing and I am C.J.
Kim,
We MUST talk West Wing. I inhabit many characters, but if I have a favorite it's Toby. So you and I have to walk briskly down a corridor someday trading witticisms!
Plus you have time for all of the above.