A New Author in His Eighties Shares Thoughts on the Meaning of Life

A few months ago, I got an email from a friend asking one little question: “Do you edit?” She told me there was a local author, a man in his eighties, who wanted help publishing a book. I wrote back immediately and said yes, I’d love to meet him.

Then, I looked at my calendar and all the little boxes stuffed full of meetings and commitments and wondered what I’d just done. It would be a stretch to fit an editing project into those days (weekends, mostly), but I had felt a zing when I read her email. And you know how I am when I feel a zing.

So, for the past couple of months, I’ve been editing a soon-to-be-published book called The Lemon Grove, and it’s been one of the most fun projects I’ve ever been a part of. I’ve sent long and short emails back and forth with this new author friend of mine. I’ve read story after story about his life. We’ve talked about books, bikes, social justice, women’s issues, religion, politics, and everything in between over coffee, tea, and popovers.

The one thing we disagreed on was my not being a fan of poetry. And then, last weekend, I opened a poem of his I loved so much that I asked his permission to share it with you (and also rescinded my former prejudice against poetry). Thankfully, he gave me a yes.

Here it is.

Turning thirty a definitive decade.

Teens and twenties left in the wake,

true youth relegated to memory.

Been there felt that.

You did or will.

BUT

Time relentless.

Little did I know how young I was.

Forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, 

with each turn, 

a gather of nails

and a bit more angst.

But at eighty a gratuitous epiphany.

Holy cow! I’m still here. 

Still me. 

Still on my bicycle, a magic machine.

FLYING

Well… kinda.

Lower altitude

And what no longer matters?

How great I never was.

The author’s name is David Balkin. He’s new. He’s in his eighties. You don’t know him yet, but he’s a gem. Getting to know him and his writing has made me wish every person who reaches his or her eighties and still has a big heart for the world and a big commitment to making it better could publish something fun, wise, and real for the rest of us to read and share with our friends for years and years after they’re gone. I’m so thankful I followed that zing.

When I met David for the first time, he gave me his first book to read as a get-to-know-you. I loved it. I thought it was lovely, clever, fun to read, thought-provoking and real. But this new one The Lemon Tree is better (& not even in the slightest because of its editor).

As soon as it’s out, I’ll tell you all about it one Friday morning. In the meantime, I hope this little part of it will stick with you the way it’s been sticking with me all week long:

And what no longer matters?

How great I never was.

Maybe it’s strange to be writing to you this morning about a book that hasn’t been published yet, about a new author in his eighties whose work isn’t all that well-known yet and whose editor isn’t well-known at all.

Or maybe, just maybe, you could use a break this morning from the 3,000 ads on your social media feeds and the 10,000 sales emails in your inbox.

A break to sit and think about what really matters.

And what doesn’t.

A break to let yourself stop worrying about any amount of competition, striving, or performance creeping into this season.

I hope this gives you that break.