A very close friend of mine keeps reminding me that since about the age of 50, I've been saying, 'I'm finished. I haven't got another one in me.' But somehow you do.
Athol Fugard’s quote reflects on the resilience and unexpected perseverance that can emerge in the face of age and self-doubt. He acknowledges that around the age of 50, he repeatedly expressed the feeling of being "finished"—as though he had reached the limit of his creative potential and had no more work left to give. However, despite these thoughts of being "finished," he admits that he continues to find the motivation and energy to keep creating, suggesting that our limits are often not as defined as we might think.
The phrase "I haven’t got another one in me" captures the self-doubt and fatigue that can arise as we age or face challenges. Fugard’s words speak to the emotional struggles that many individuals encounter when they feel they’ve exhausted their capabilities or potential. Yet, his comment also illustrates the surprising power of perseverance and the human capacity to keep pushing forward, even when it seems like there’s nothing left to give.
Fugard’s reflection on this "very close friend" who constantly reminds him of this pattern reveals the support and encouragement he receives from those around him. It suggests that even when we feel like we’ve reached the end, those who believe in us can help us push through our self-imposed limits. His friend's reminder serves as a reminder that sometimes we need others to help us recognize our continued potential, especially when we doubt ourselves.
Ultimately, Fugard’s quote speaks to the idea of resilience and the capacity for continued creativity and growth, even as we age. It encourages us to keep moving forward despite feelings of exhaustion or doubt, reminding us that the human spirit often has more to give than we initially realize. The quote is a celebration of endurance and the ongoing potential to surprise ourselves with what we can achieve.
NTNguyen Tuan
This quote made me smile and wince at the same time. It's comforting to know that even great artists like Fugard wrestle with burnout. But it also raises the question—why do we equate age with creative decline so easily? Maybe it’s not about having another 'one' in you, but just trusting that something meaningful is always possible, no matter what stage you're in.
NDNguyen Nhu dat
I love the quiet optimism tucked in here. That despite his own doubts, he kept going. But I wonder how much of that drive is internal vs. external. Was it habit, passion, deadlines, or maybe that friend who kept nudging him? It raises a deeper question: when we think we’re out of ideas, is it because we’re truly done—or just afraid to begin again?
VVVan Vu
There’s something deeply relatable in this—how we convince ourselves we’ve reached the end, only to discover another chapter waiting. It makes me wonder, is creativity cyclical by nature? Do moments of despair and renewal simply come with the territory? I’d be curious if Athol Fugard ever figured out a pattern to his creative ups and downs, or if it always felt unpredictable.
TThue Ta Thi
This quote moved me. It made me think about the difference between perceived limitation and actual limitation. Fugard seems to find unexpected reservoirs of strength despite his doubts. Do we all carry more creative energy than we think? Or do we just underestimate what we’re capable of as we get older? I’d love to know what triggered those moments when he pushed through anyway.
DDBach Duc Duong
Athol Fugard's reflection really hits home. It makes me think about how often people, especially as they age, internalize a false narrative that their best work is behind them. I’d love to ask: is it really physical stamina that fades, or is it just self-belief? What role do relationships—like that friend he mentions—play in keeping us going when we feel we've got nothing left?