The Death clock and What is left
"Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy" Thomas Merton
I’m fortunate; my body has moved easily these past 78 years. Times are a-changing. I noticed when I went out for my morning walk to meet up with a neighborhood walking group that my right leg doesn’t move so well anymore. My gait is off and at the end of 4.5 miles, I had a blister on my second toe. I never get blisters. Things are changing. Also, going uphill takes more effort than it ever has. Duh, you tell me, that’s normal aging. Is it? At what point do you accept bodily decline? I’m still fighting it. I’m aiming for a knee replacement later this year. Maybe it will re-align me and give me a better gait. And the huffing and puffing may well ease if I lose a few pounds. So I tinker away at ingrained habits and learn new ways to ease the discomforts I experience.
I came across an AI app called Death Clock. By answering 23 questions on my health and current lifestyle, it told me my likely time of death. Mine came out at 94. How do I get to 94? I wonder. How will I use the next sixteen years? Certainly not sitting and watching news on TV.
The aging advice that is available tells us that staying engaged combats loneliness; connecting with family and friends gives purpose and belonging. Exercise improves physical and mental wellbeing. Hobbies and passions improve cognition. This advice all focuses on physical and mental wellbeing. Like preparing a child for adulthood, we prepare retirees for their senior years. In the middle years the adults are coached on how to be more productive, more relaxed, more successful, more mindful, more active, more sexual. Observe the onscreen advertisements. AI has figured out what will make you want to be and do “more”. No such ads for seniors. Yes, more travel, and more chair-yoga, but basically we are not the largest consumption group on which our society thrives.
What are my options for the next sixteen years, other than aiming for self-sufficiency and minimizing reliance on others? Very few talk about the increasing loneliness, the loss of peers, friends. Losing physical functioning. New parents look forward to taking care of their newborn. They want to invest in the child, give it everything it may need. Nobody looks forward to taking care of an old person, invest in their well-being. There’s no pay-off. The child grows up and can become an asset to society. Old people cease to be a burden when they pass away. Who wouldn’t want to speed up that process?
What if we prioritized values beyond productivity, focusing on what truly makes life meaningful? Love, happiness, anyone? Babies are cute and we want to love them. Old people not so.
I volunteer at our local secondhand bookstore/community center, because that is what it is: a place for gathering, workshopping, browsing, exchanging ideas, finding treasured books. An older man walked in and asked if he could plug in his computer. I saw no issue; few shoppers were present, plus an outlet was free. He plugged in. Next, a volunteer requested assistance displaying specific information for him. I helped him, while he told me he was learning to use this computer. For an hour, I became his go-to assistant to help him navigate his computer world. I praised him for learning about technology. He was happy, I was happy. Understanding how difficult it was for him to step into this new technological world, I taught him just the basics he could retain. I didn’t hover. I gave him space, and he asked when he needed help. I gave him autonomy.
Another visitor in the store started talking to me. He passed the store every day, he told me. He looked like an older version of John Lennon, leaned on a cane, longish hair brushing his face, the round John Lennon glasses. He told me how he played rock and roll on his guitar in the square in Lhasa, Tibet, in 2002. His stories continued with Morocco. Then he asked if he was talking too much. I told him he was fine, I knew the places he had traveled. When I couldn’t hear him very well, he explained he had Parkinson’s disease. Ah, that explained the trembling, the cane and the soft voice. I told him my husband had Parkinson’s, and I understood the symptoms. He talked to me until I finished my shift.
Two aging people with different needs. A senior me to help them. The value of love and kindness at work to create momentary happiness. I walk a neighborhood walk with people who exchange ideas. One walker gave me an idea for the title of a book I’m working on. That made my morning. She was happy, and I was happy. Is there a better way to spend our time?
Can we switch from productivity to creating love and happiness around us? What if that becomes the priority in our society? What if we teach our children and teenagers that’s what life is about? I encouraged love and kindness when I raised my (now successful) adult children, but I have to admit the achievement factor stood ready at the door. And as my youngest daughter later told me, society reinforced it. What are you going to be? A firefighter, a doctor! Ever heard anyone say, I’m going to be a kind person? Mid-life reflection on mortality spurred a commitment to kindness. My paternal grandfather was not a kind man. But, as my mother said, he softened as he aged.
Most of my kindness has come through action, helping others walk and hike the trails, helping to feed others, helping others help themselves (my professional career). Toward the end it may come to just offering a kind word, showing patience when someone needs to unload or talk. A passive kindness. That takes love, love for humanity. Maintaining an open heart requires effort, enabling overflowing love. I can easily fill the next 16 years doing that.
Dami Roelse is the author of several books on walking/hiking and transformational travel: “Walking Gone Wild, how to lose your age on the trail” and “Fly Free, a memoir of love, loss and walking the path”. Her next book, “Body and Grace, a hike to wholeness on the PCT, is forthcoming March 2026 from Mantra Books.
The act of being — as I’ve told my now grown children through the years — a “good human” has little to do with how our society has trained us — “What are you going to be? A firefighter, a doctor! Ever heard anyone say, I’m going to be a kind person?”
It’s my measure of success as a father — are my children kind and caring? That’s all that matters.
Love that opening quote and this post! Thank you.