It's a Measure of a Life
Updated: Sep 4
Our lives are gardens to tend. When all is said and done, we will be measured by the love and respect we offer as we share our gardens’ gifts with others.
The oldest member of my family, Marian Maciag, passed away recently at the age of ninety-five. A Felician Sister, she taught for forty-four years. She was still taking college courses at ninety.
Her passing followed my recent attendance at the band Rush’s “Fifty Something” tour. A major theme was a tribute to the band’s acclaimed drummer and lyricist, Neil Peart, who passed away tragically in 2020 from brain cancer, only five years after retiring.
I first heard Rush in the mid-1980s while in high school. A fellow percussionist, I was initially attracted by Neil’s intricate and innovative orchestrations.
However, what began as an admiration for his musical virtuosity became a deep appreciation for his lyrical brilliance and, moreover, his profound philosophical reflections.
For all these reasons, and the fact that he looked a bit like a character from Gilligan’s Island, he was known by fans as “The Professor.”
His lyrics were consistently introspective and autobiographical, documenting his own journey of love, loss, and longing.
Neil was also an astute observer of the world around him.
He was habitually extrospective, observationally depicting and pondering the joys and tragedies around him. He searched for meaning in the regularly random and sometimes designed events of life. (1)
Through his lyrical catalog, he was everyman—speaking to the rest of us who have, are having, and will have analogous experiences and inquiries.
Across Neil’s observations and musings, he most often left us with commentary and questions, offering few resolutions or answers. We had to find those for ourselves.
Until the end.
His final and, perhaps, greatest gift was his last song on Rush’s final studio album. Called “The Garden,” Neil finally draws a conclusion to forty years of questions, searching, and scrutinizing.
What was life’s purpose, after all? Here’s his answer:
The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect;
So hard to earn, so easily burned
In the fullness of time
A garden to nurture and protect
The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect:
The way you live, the gifts that you give
In the fullness of time
Is the only return that you expect
It’s the measure of a life.*
Neil gave forty years to his fans, and his final tour to Alex, his friend and guitarist, who worried that arthritis would limit his playing.
He ended his musical career in 2015 with a tour that caused him agonizing pain due to a foot infection and tendonitis. Yet, he pressed on for the love and respect of his bandmates.
Then, Neil gave his final few years entirely to his family.
He retired for the love and respect of his wife and daughter, choosing to volunteer at his daughter’s elementary school library instead of remaining a public icon.
And only ten months after that choice, he noticed symptoms that resulted in his terminal cancer diagnosis.
In return for the gifts he gave, our love and respect only grew.
He tended his garden extraordinarily, developing a remarkable character in the process. And he set an example for the rest of us to follow.
Marian tended a quieter garden. She asked to be placed at schools in Boston’s poorest and most disadvantaged neighborhoods and stayed at those for twenty-three years. She paid to educate three Haitian students and a Polish immigrant and expected nothing back. However, her measure is the same.
From one professor to another, thank you both for your love and respect.
It truly is the measure of a life.
Yours and, hopefully, mine.
Dr. Aaron Bujnowski is an adjunct professor of strategy and marketing at Trinity University in San Antonio, Texas, and is a strategy and leadership expert.
*Lyrics to “The Garden” © Anthem Entertainment
(1) Here are a few examples of the themes Neil Peart contemplated in his lyrics, with references to the band's songs that are associated with them:
He communicated his own isolation as a self-proclaimed misfit and his restlessness as a dreamer (Subdivisions, The Analog Kid), his yearning to express the beauty and influence of his individuality (Tom Sawyer, Driven), the tension between his desire for privacy and his notoriety (Limelight), and his own struggle with feelings of both hubris and inadequacy (Bravado, Resist).
He observed the control and corruption of power and profit (2112, A Farewell to Kings, The Big Money, Grand Designs, Manhattan Project), called out the toxic impact of jealousy, fear, and hatred (Witch Hunt, The Weapon), bemoaning their attendant pain while celebrating their resultant resilience (Red Sector A, We Hold On, Marathon). He also traced envy to its consequences (The Trees).
He celebrated positive patterns of beauty and integrity, noting our ability to achieve and lose them through our choices (Natural Science, New World Man, Freewill). He hailed the power of music (The Spirit of Radio) and noted the swings of life’s ups and downs (Far Cry).
He lamented loss of hope (The Pass), capability (Losing It, Middletown Dreams) and loved ones (Afterimage). Following the tragically sequential deaths of his own daughter and first wife, he documented the near loss and eventual redemption of himself (One Little Victory, Ghost Rider, Sweet Miracle).
He saw the grandeur of the world, its people, and its cultures (Mystic Rhythms, Tai Shan) and the threats from not protecting, respecting, and nurturing them (Red Tide).
He reveled in the happiness and memories found in life’s simple joys (Lakeside Park, Making Memories, Red Barchetta), hoping to make those moments last (Time Stand Still). He grieved the loss of real heroes while others made idols of popularized ones (Nobody’s Hero).
He saw the possibilities and problems in our personal relationships (Emotion Detector, Open Secrets, Entre Nous, Chemistry) and in our societal connections (Second Nature, Territories).
He pondered the perplexity of life’s seeming randomness (Roll the Bones, The Big Wheel, Dreamline), asking intricate questions about its ultimate meaning.
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