"I Know I Haven't Been At My Best This Past Decade"

A few years ago, I read a biography of Daniel Boone by Robert Morgan (succinctly entitled Boone: A Biography). Knowing, basically, nothing about Boone before-hand, it was alright. (I am pretty sure it inspired a pretty good June Carter Cash song, "The Road to Kaintuck," though haven't attempted to corroborate that with any evidence.) What stuck with me about the work was Morgan's thesis that (great?) men have, roughly, a decade in their lives which is pivotal. If they are prepared properly, and a little lucky, this decade is their best. Everything beforehand prepares them for this, while afterwards their life is largely dealing with the consequences, and, inevitably, a bit of a let down. To whit: Wes Anderson's The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.

Zissou is clearly a man past his prime. That he is portrayed by Bill Murray may have seen, at the time, to be a bit of a harsh judgment on Murray - though the past decade has certainly been a renaissance for him. We can read in Zissou/Murray, a man trying to make sense of the notion that while he is still the same, it no longer seems good enough. Of course begging the question: was it ever? Among other ideas, The Life Aquatic wonders what happens after the curtain falls. If, as Morgan suggests, we all have our big performance, how do we make sense of what comes after? Or, as Jack Black asks in High Fidelity:

"Is it wrong to criticize a once-great artist for his latter day sins? Is it better to burn out, or to slowly fade away."

I think he is quoting Patton.

How do each of us find peace when our motivations are outlasted? How do we continually become in a manner suited to our world?