Real Talk: A Different Era, A Different Rhythm

Lately, I’ve been sitting with something I can’t quite shake.

I keep noticing how often people call off work — not because of a major illness, but because their bodies are simply spent. Sometimes it follows a weekend of socializing. Sometimes it shows up mid-day as dizziness, fatigue, or needing to step away. These are separate moments, separate people, separate situations — but they point to the same bigger question.

And I’ll be honest: this is a world I don’t fully understand. I can observe it. I can explain parts of it. But I can’t truly relate to it.

I come from a different era.

Two Separate Observations

In one situation I’ve noticed over time, socializing seems to come at a cost. Not joyful connection — but forced connection. Pushing oneself to be social, then needing recovery days afterward. Calling off work. Catching whatever is going around. It’s not about blame; it’s about pattern. When socializing becomes obligation instead of joy, the body often pays the price.

In a completely separate moment, I saw something else. Fatigue. Drowsiness. Dehydration. A body waving a flag. That situation had nothing to do with socializing — it was about little sleep, too many energy drinks, and not enough water. Again, not judgment. Just biology doing what biology does when it’s running on empty.

Different causes. Same outcome: the body saying enough.

The Era I Was Raised In

I was raised watching my parents live with purpose, responsibility, and structure.

My father worked, ministered, preached, led Bible studies, served on committees — even in retirement. My mother kept a home with a daily rhythm and order. There was an understanding that your word mattered. Responsibility mattered. Being early — never late — mattered.

That wasn’t about pressure. It was about respect. Respect for other people’s time. Respect for commitments. Respect for yourself.

Life had margin. You weren’t always rushing. Your nervous system wasn’t constantly in catch-up mode.

I carried that into my own life.

I worked hard — for purpose and a paycheck. I socialized, but it was fun. I went dancing every weekend when I was young. I still showed up to work early and did my job.

Coffee was normal. Coke was probably the harshest drink around. Later on, yes, I drank energy drinks when I worked graveyard shifts — but they were occasional tools, not daily lifelines.

And I didn’t get sick all the time.

What My Children Witnessed

My children grew up watching that same rhythm. They saw me show up. They saw responsibility modeled, not explained.

They’ve had energy drinks too. They’ve worked hard. They’ve socialized. But it was never excessive. Never constant. Never at the expense of sleep and basic care.

Today:

Mariko is 45 and not sickly.

Brittany is 38 and not sickly.

Kimora is 17 and not sickly.

Now I’m watching my grandbaby grow in a home where love, structure, and rhythm still exist.

That tells me something important.

This isn’t about age.

It’s not about genetics.

It’s not that “people today are weak.”

It’s about how life is being lived now.

What Feels Different Now

This era encourages people to override their bodies. To stimulate instead of rest. To normalize exhaustion. To blur the lines between work, social life, recovery, and responsibility.

There used to be natural guardrails:

work had clearer boundaries socializing ended naturally

rest wasn’t labeled — it just happened

responsibility was steady and expected

Now everything overlaps. And bodies respond the only way they can.

The people I work with see my work ethic too. I show up the same way every day — steady, prepared, responsible.

I don’t think they see it as something to emulate. I think it just gets quietly categorized as, “that’s just grandma.” And honestly… I’m okay with that.

Because what they’re really seeing is a different rhythm. A way of living shaped by purpose, responsibility, integrity, and being a person of your word.

This isn’t about going backward.

It’s about remembering what worked.

Being social should add life — not take it away.

Work should have meaning — and limits.

Energy shouldn’t always be borrowed from tomorrow.

I may not fully understand this era.

But I do understand bodies, patterns, and lived experience.

And I know this much:

When life has rhythm, people tend to be healthier — across generations.