“I’ve made a decision tonight that this is going to be my
last show. There’s a lot more to me than playing on the road and this is the
last one I’m going to do.” Elton John, 1977
“This is my farewell tour. I’m never coming back. I swear to
God.” Cher, 2002
Many musical artists declare their final tours—over and over
again. Is it for money? That allure of performing? Connecting with their fans?
The rush of creativity? Not knowing when to stop even if their voices have
weakened?
As we get older why is it so difficult for people to take a knee?
Granted, I personally don’t know any rock stars or live that
glittery life, but I do witness people not stepping down in other areas. I’m
always observing how women approach their athletic decline, wondering how I’ll
be and whom I’ll emulate in the coming decades. I’ve witnessed stubborn
tenacity, a willful ignoring shrug. Last year in my tennis contract a sweet 70-ish
woman could not hold her own with the rest in the group. At the end of the
season she surprised us by declaring that she was coming back—certain she would
have bowed out.
On the flipside last week I was blown away by a different
older lady on the court. After our ninety minutes she slowly walked to the bench.
As we gathered our things she quietly uttered, “I need to find a different
group. My playing is weaker than yours—and it’s not fun for you or me.” Of
course we gave her our support, saying we’re just playing for fun, she should
think about that decision. But I was so impressed that she was willing to take
a knee. She emitted a graceful honesty—true, laced with some sadness—but how
differently these two women interpreted their abilities struck me.
There’s a consistent rush with always having hope, that
thinking you can improve, that you are still up to par—and I admit that inertia
creates an exciting energy. There’s a youthful elixir brewing in that spiritual
force of strong belief in self. But at some point you’d think you’d look in the
mirror and reflect. Do some checks. As I’ve been considering this post and its
meaning—my theory is taking that knee requires a lack of ego, a welcoming
acceptance, and an honest respect/awareness of others.
I’ve seen legends like Ray Charles and Tina Turner perform
past their prime, and I had goosebumps in the audience watching them, grateful
to experience their brilliance. But in real life—most of us aren’t legendary
artists. We all age. We all weaken. We all become a different version of
ourselves. I hope when that time comes—in whatever life arena---that arthritis
or stubborn self-denial will not prevent me to purposefully take a knee when
I choose to. Like Cher will sing during her 2018 Here We Go Again tour, I
hope I’m “strong enough.”
