The following excerpt is a lovely story of three hard-working, successful men who take a short timeout to relax. Their timeout was initiated by a woman who read an inscription that stated, "Enjoy yourself, it is later than you think."
It is implied that after their vacations the men resumed their hectic, productive lives with perhaps a bit more leisure thrown in. It makes sense to me that their lives were happier as a result.
But I don’t think that means we can apply “Enjoy Yourself” as an unqualified key to happiness. To some people, this advice might be taken as license for hedonism.
For example, what if these men had decided to enjoy themselves as young men?
Perhaps the doctor would have dated more and studied less, never becoming a doctor at all. He would not have had the satisfaction of helping to heal the sick. Would he be happy at the end of this life?
Perhaps the steel man would have drunk more and aspired to less. His country wouldn’t have grown from his work. At 55, would he have been happy?
I think the advice “enjoy yourself”should be given to those you naturally work hard, not to those who hardly work.
After reading the essay, do you agree?
Cathy
cathryngoodman@yahoo.com
by Frederic Loomis, M.D.
Condensed from The Bond Between Us
published in 1946
"Enjoy Yourself: It Is Later Than You Think"
“A few years ago the aphorism above, which is the inspiration for this little story, was widely used. It was, in part, the theme of a poem written years ago by Robert Service. It was used in 1938 as the title of a book by Max Lerner on the perils of democracy. If Robert Service coined the expression, if others saw and read it in a Chinese garden, or if like other Chinese sayings it made its way into our lives by other means, I do not know.
“I have told many times the story of a certain letter, which I received years ago, because the impression it made on me was very deep; and I have never told it, on ships in distant seas or by quiet firesides nearer home, without a reflective, thoughtful response from those around me. The letter:
“Peking, China”
“Dear Doctor:
Please don’t be too surprised in getting a letter from me. I am signing only my first name. My surname is the same as yours.
You won’t even remember me. Two years ago I was in your hospital under the care of another doctor. I lost my baby the day it was born.
That same day my doctor came in to see me, and as he left he said, ‘Oh, by the way, there is a doctor here with the same name as yours who noticed your name on the board, and asked me about you. He said he would like to come in to see you, because you might be a relative. I told him you had lost your baby and I didn’t think you would want to see anybody, but it was all right with me.’
And then in a little while you came in. You put your hand on my arm and sat down for a moment beside my bed. You didn’t say much of anything but your eyes and your voice were kind and pretty soon I felt better. As you sat there I noticed that you looked tired and that the lines in your face were very deep. I never saw you again but the nurses told me you were in the hospital practically night and day.
This afternoon I was a guest in a beautiful Chinese home here in Peking. The garden was enclosed by a high wall, and on one side, surrounded by twining red and white flowers, was a brass plate about two feet long. I asked someone to translate the Chinese characters for me. They said:
Enjoy yourself
it is later than you think
I began to think about it for myself. I had not wanted another baby because I was still grieving for the one I had lost. But I decided that moment that I should not wait any longer. Perhaps it may be later than I think, too.
And then, because I was thinking of my baby, I thought of you and the tired lines in your face, and the moment of sympathy you gave me when I so needed it. I don’t know how old you are but I am quite sure you are old enough to be my father; and I know that those few minutes you spent with me meant little or nothing to you of course—but they meant a great deal to a woman who was desperately unhappy.
So I am so presumptuous as to think that in turn I can do something for you too. Perhaps for you it is later than you think. Please foregive me, but when your work is over, on the day you get my letter, please sit down very quietly, all by yourself, and think about it.
Marguerite
We will find out tomorrow what the good doctor does with this advice.
In a Chinese Garden, continued
Dr. Loomis continues with his story:
“Usually I sleep very well when I am not disturbed by the telephone, but that night I woke a dozen times seeing the brass plate in the Chinese wall. I called myself a silly old fool for being disturbed by a letter from a woman I couldn’t even remember, and dismissed the thing from my mind; and before I knew it I found myself saying again to myself: “Well maybe it is later than you think: why don’t you do something about it?”
I went to my office next morning and told them I was going away for three months.
It is a wholesome experience for any man who thinks he is important in his own organization to step out for a few months. The first time I went away on a long trip, some years before this letter came, I felt sure that everything would go to pieces. When I returned I found there were just as many patients as when I left, every one had recovered just as fast or faster, and most of my patients did not even know I had been away. It is humiliating to find how quickly and competently one’s place is filled, but it is a very good lesson.
The story will continue on Monday…
Chinese Garden, part 3
May 28, 2012
“I telephoned to Shorty, a retired colonel who was perhaps my closest friend, and asked him to come to my office. On his arrival I told him that I wanted him to go home and pack a grip and come on down to South America with me. He replied that he would like to but that he had so much to attend to in the next few months that it was out of the question to be away even for a week.
“I read him the letter. He shook his head. ‘I can’t go,’ he said. ‘Of course I’d like to, but for weeks now I’ve been waiting to close a deal. I’m sorry, old man, but maybe sometime—sometime—’ his words came more slowly. ‘What was that thing again that woman said? ‘it is later than you think’? Well—’
“He sat quietly for a moment. Neither of us spoke. I could almost see the balance swaying as he weighed the apparent demands of the present against the relatively few years each of us still had to live, exactly as I had the night before.
“At last he spoke. ‘I waited three months for those people to make up their minds. I am not going to wait any longer. They can wait for me now. When would you like to go?’
We went to South America. We spent day after day at sea on a comfortable freighter, feeling our burdens slip off with the miles and our tired bodies being made over by the winds that swept across the Pacific from China. In the course of time we found ourselves in one of the great cities of South America. By good fortune we were entertained by one of the prominent men of the country, a man who had built enormous steel plants and whose industries were growing rapidly.
“During the visit Shorty asked our host if he played golf. He replied: “Senor, I play a little, I would like to play more. My wife is on a vacation in the United States with our children. I would like to join her. I have beautiful horses here which I would love to ride. I can do none of these things because I am too busy. I am 55 years old and in five years more I shall stop. It is true I said the same thing five years ago, but I did not know how much we should be growing. We are building a new plant; we are making steel such as South America has never known. I cannot let go even for an afternoon of golf. My office boy has better leisure.’
“‘Senor,’ I said, ‘do you know why I am in south America?’
‘Because,’ he said, “because perhaps you had not too much to do and had the necessary time and money to permit it.’
‘No,’ I replied, “I had a great deal to do and I did not have too much of either time or money. We are sitting here on your lovely terrace because a few weeks ago a girl whom I wouldn’t know if I saw her looked at a brass plate in a Chinese wall in the city of Peking in the heart of China.’
“I told him the story. Like Shorty, he made me repeat the words: ‘Enjoy yourself: it is later than you think.’ during the rest of the afternoon he seemed a bit preoccupied.
“The next morning I met him in the corridor of our hotel. ‘Doctor,’ he said, ‘please wait a moment. I have not slept well. It is strange, is it not, that a casual acquaintance, which you would say yourself you are, could change the current of a very busy life? I have thought long and hard since I saw you yesterday. I have cabled my wife that I am coming.’
“He put his hand on my shoulder. ‘It was a very long finger indeed,’ he said, ‘that wrote those words on the garden wall in China.’
“Many years have been added to the average expectation of life but each individual’s fate is still a hazard. The most valuable people around us have lived largely for others. This seems the time to remind them that they will have more years, and happier ones, to do good for others if they start right now to do something for themselves; to go places and to do things which they have looked forward to for years; to give those who love them the happiness of seeing them enjoy some of the rewards which they have earned; to replace competition with contemplation.
“The ‘Shorty’ in this story lived only a few years more. I spent the last hours at his bedside. Over and over again he said, ‘Fred, I am so happy that we went to south America together. I thank God we did not wait too long.”