Nudge no 191. When you get to the end, this is what you'll find.
a nugget of wisdom from my 91-year-old client
Dear friends,
One of my book editing clients is 90 going on 91.
Ah! That is such a delightful sentence to write, I almost want to end this post right here. But I’ll go on, because there’s more to this inspiring story.
So, okay, my editing client—we’ll call him Hal—is 90, going on 91, and asked for help with publishing his first-ever book.
It’s about listening. Hal views listening as a language we were never taught; Hal wants people to know that by taking the time to learn listening, we can reclaim our connection to ourselves, to each other, and the earth.
His message is bright, and his passion is strong.
“I want the words to make sense to young people, but it’s not happening yet!” he said, shaking his crinkled fist in the little Zoom square on my screen.
You see, Hal and I hadn’t seen each other in a long time.
When we last connected, I encouraged him (and his granddaughter, who is co-writing the book) to refine the structure and flow before polishing the words.
As disorienting as it was to pull apart and reassemble a manuscript that was 85% complete, they agreed this was the right next step for the book. This process required trust in the unknown, in the yet unseen order of things to emerge, align, and carry the bulk of his beautiful message.
But even at the age of 90, with all your lived experience (and urgency to get shit done based on your life expectancy!) it’s not so easy to trust what you can’t yet see and undo the thing you can see in front of you.
And so, Hal’s trust in the next step waxed and waned.
The editing work halted for an entire eleven months.
Then, he returned to the arena.
Seeing Hal shaking his fist with frustrated enthusiasm made me tender-hearted. And staring into his softly wrinkled, quivering eyes, I realized something:
At the end of our fighting and struggling with something that won’t conform to our will, we’re left with one choice: do I guard against hurt and disappointment, or release my will and lean into the unknown?
No matter our age or the particular paths we've taken, for as long as we live, we aren’t spared the choice between closing or opening our hearts, between the known and the unknown.
We may have intuition and inner guidance, but we still must choose whether or not to listen.
And, to my utter delight, 91-year-old Hal is making the vulnerable choice to walk his talk, listen, stay alive, and publish a damned good book.
Permission slip of the week
Trust what can’t be proven just because you feel like it.
P.S. Here’s a tribute song to everyone making the brave choice to trust the pull of something that doesn’t make sense and go for it.