By Lydia Caros
Queries have been used since the time of the early Quakers as a way of keeping track of personal and community progress. The Queries ask us to examine our lives, our spiritual activities, our connections with others in our meetings, and in the rest of our daily lives. Taking a few minutes for introspective responses is a good way to check in on ourselves.
I would take it one step further, however, and suggest that we should actually take a written “test.” Each of us should regularly document and save the lessons we learn and the progress we make in our lives. This can help us on our own path, and can benefit our loved ones and generations who come after we have gone.
I became convinced of this recently because I was privileged to play a small part in a friend’s preparation for what he called his “Last Lecture.” A 90-year-old retired professor, Don wanted to share his thoughts and beliefs to an audience one last time. He wanted to talk about his life, but even more importantly, about his values and his concerns about what is needed in this world to protect it for a better future.
Don is quite a talker. He has a great deal of knowledge and experience and it’s not an easy task to get him to stop telling you about it once he starts. Aware that this could be a challenge in his lecture, he asked for help from a couple of friends in its preparation. We met with him on a few occasions, giving feedback about his many drafts and multiple sections. He received our critiques graciously, and then decided which things to edit and which to keep.
Don arranged the meeting space for his presentation at the university where he had taught. He wanted a room large enough for all the groups that he had been involved with over the years: various peace groups, academicians, Quakers, and scattered friends. He made arrangements for all the fliers, submitted the announcements in various newsletters, and checked on the angle of the podium in the hall. On the day of his talk, I was anxious for him and worried about how many people would be able to attend. He had focused most of his energy and attention to this talk for several weeks.
The night of the presentation we found Don talking to people as they came into the hall. There was a table set up that had several books on it—books from Don's personal library that had been meaningful to him on his journey through life. Along the window of the very long room he had various tee shirts on display from all over the world, featuring the logos of multiple causes, projects, and countries he had worked and traveled in. People came in slowly at first, but then eventually filled all the seats. They had to bring more chairs in.
The vice president of the college introduced him, remarking that Don had done more since retiring than many people do in their entire lives. When Don came up to the podium, everyone stood and applauded, showing their affection and support for him. When he began to speak, he made it clear that he was trying to stay within time constraints. People chuckled in recognition of this challenge. He went through his prepared materials and shared his life, his beliefs, his academic endeavors, his travels and activities for peace.
During his talk, the audience responded to various points with laughter, gasps, and sighs, clearly engaged in what he was saying. The loving and supportive energy in the room was almost palpable. He became even more open and expressive in response. When the talk was finished, everyone stood up again, applauding. Don was beaming. The rest of the time was filled with greetings and congratulations from friends and there were hugs and compliments all around.
The summation of 90 years is a profound thing, a sacred offering. Experiencing this process has convinced me that each of us should make summaries of our life and distill what is most precious and meaningful. We don’t have to make a public statement, but I think we should be taking the written (or recorded) “test” periodically.
When we take a course of any kind, we expect and accept that there will be a test or written report that will reflect what we’ve learned. Life provides rigorous training for growing in the Spirit. It’s a journey that needs regular evaluation and assessment. Early Friends did this by recording ideas and progress in their journals over the years. It is due to their efforts that we can “listen” to how George Fox and John Woolman thought and struggled and grew spiritually. Because they wrote it, each of us can benefit from their voices from the 1600s. We can do the same.
Our summaries could be written on an annual basis (shared at our birthday or New Year’s celebrations). Or we could choose to summarize each decade or important junctures such as career change, empty nest, retirement, old age. We could share them with family or close friends for discussion and reflection, or use them just for personal reflection. These summaries would be saved and collected together to complete the memorabilia of our life, along with photos, diplomas, or trophies.
I wish I knew what my great-grandparents thought, how they lived in their era; what their dreams were, their disappointments, and inner accomplishments? I never learned the answers from my grandparents, whom I knew better, and even the generation of my parents, aunts, and uncles has been too quiet with this kind of information. When we see the elders of our family, how often do we have conversations with them about these issues? To document the personal summaries of the older generation would be a wonderful gift for those who love them, and for the generations to come. Perhaps lessons they have learned can help us on our own journey.
How well are we examining our own journey? Do we summarize where we’ve been and where we hope to be going? Are we using queries such as: “Am I on the right path? What was the most important lesson this year? Am I growing into the person I want to become?”
Do our friends and family know our answers to these questions? Don and his family and friends know because he has given the gift of his Last Lecture. We should all take time to consider our own written or recorded summaries, and save them. It could be an ongoing personal guide for us as we continue to learn through our remaining years. And if we’re lucky enough to get to live to be 90 years old, we can decide then about whether or not to have a public lecture of our own.
Lydia Caros is a member of Twin Cities Meeting in St Paul, Minn.
Queries have been used since the time of the early Quakers as a way of keeping track of personal and community progress. The Queries ask us to examine our lives, our spiritual activities, our connections with others in our meetings, and in the rest of our daily lives. Taking a few minutes for introspective responses is a good way to check in on ourselves.
I would take it one step further, however, and suggest that we should actually take a written “test.” Each of us should regularly document and save the lessons we learn and the progress we make in our lives. This can help us on our own path, and can benefit our loved ones and generations who come after we have gone.
I became convinced of this recently because I was privileged to play a small part in a friend’s preparation for what he called his “Last Lecture.” A 90-year-old retired professor, Don wanted to share his thoughts and beliefs to an audience one last time. He wanted to talk about his life, but even more importantly, about his values and his concerns about what is needed in this world to protect it for a better future.
Don is quite a talker. He has a great deal of knowledge and experience and it’s not an easy task to get him to stop telling you about it once he starts. Aware that this could be a challenge in his lecture, he asked for help from a couple of friends in its preparation. We met with him on a few occasions, giving feedback about his many drafts and multiple sections. He received our critiques graciously, and then decided which things to edit and which to keep.
Don arranged the meeting space for his presentation at the university where he had taught. He wanted a room large enough for all the groups that he had been involved with over the years: various peace groups, academicians, Quakers, and scattered friends. He made arrangements for all the fliers, submitted the announcements in various newsletters, and checked on the angle of the podium in the hall. On the day of his talk, I was anxious for him and worried about how many people would be able to attend. He had focused most of his energy and attention to this talk for several weeks.
The night of the presentation we found Don talking to people as they came into the hall. There was a table set up that had several books on it—books from Don's personal library that had been meaningful to him on his journey through life. Along the window of the very long room he had various tee shirts on display from all over the world, featuring the logos of multiple causes, projects, and countries he had worked and traveled in. People came in slowly at first, but then eventually filled all the seats. They had to bring more chairs in.
The vice president of the college introduced him, remarking that Don had done more since retiring than many people do in their entire lives. When Don came up to the podium, everyone stood and applauded, showing their affection and support for him. When he began to speak, he made it clear that he was trying to stay within time constraints. People chuckled in recognition of this challenge. He went through his prepared materials and shared his life, his beliefs, his academic endeavors, his travels and activities for peace.
During his talk, the audience responded to various points with laughter, gasps, and sighs, clearly engaged in what he was saying. The loving and supportive energy in the room was almost palpable. He became even more open and expressive in response. When the talk was finished, everyone stood up again, applauding. Don was beaming. The rest of the time was filled with greetings and congratulations from friends and there were hugs and compliments all around.
The summation of 90 years is a profound thing, a sacred offering. Experiencing this process has convinced me that each of us should make summaries of our life and distill what is most precious and meaningful. We don’t have to make a public statement, but I think we should be taking the written (or recorded) “test” periodically.
When we take a course of any kind, we expect and accept that there will be a test or written report that will reflect what we’ve learned. Life provides rigorous training for growing in the Spirit. It’s a journey that needs regular evaluation and assessment. Early Friends did this by recording ideas and progress in their journals over the years. It is due to their efforts that we can “listen” to how George Fox and John Woolman thought and struggled and grew spiritually. Because they wrote it, each of us can benefit from their voices from the 1600s. We can do the same.
Our summaries could be written on an annual basis (shared at our birthday or New Year’s celebrations). Or we could choose to summarize each decade or important junctures such as career change, empty nest, retirement, old age. We could share them with family or close friends for discussion and reflection, or use them just for personal reflection. These summaries would be saved and collected together to complete the memorabilia of our life, along with photos, diplomas, or trophies.
I wish I knew what my great-grandparents thought, how they lived in their era; what their dreams were, their disappointments, and inner accomplishments? I never learned the answers from my grandparents, whom I knew better, and even the generation of my parents, aunts, and uncles has been too quiet with this kind of information. When we see the elders of our family, how often do we have conversations with them about these issues? To document the personal summaries of the older generation would be a wonderful gift for those who love them, and for the generations to come. Perhaps lessons they have learned can help us on our own journey.
How well are we examining our own journey? Do we summarize where we’ve been and where we hope to be going? Are we using queries such as: “Am I on the right path? What was the most important lesson this year? Am I growing into the person I want to become?”
Do our friends and family know our answers to these questions? Don and his family and friends know because he has given the gift of his Last Lecture. We should all take time to consider our own written or recorded summaries, and save them. It could be an ongoing personal guide for us as we continue to learn through our remaining years. And if we’re lucky enough to get to live to be 90 years old, we can decide then about whether or not to have a public lecture of our own.
Lydia Caros is a member of Twin Cities Meeting in St Paul, Minn.
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