There's so much more I want to do. I refuse to get to 50 and wait

“There’s so much more I want to do. I refuse to get to 50 and wait at home for the phone to ring.” Thus spoke Penélope Cruz, an artist of fire and grace, whose words shimmer with defiance and hope. In this declaration lies the spirit of the eternal creator, the soul who refuses to grow idle, who will not let the weight of time silence her purpose. Her voice echoes the ancient truth that life is not measured by years lived, but by passion pursued. She rejects the quiet resignation that so often creeps into human hearts — that whisper which says, “You have done enough, now fade.” Instead, she stands as a beacon of continuance, a reminder that to live fully is to keep creating, striving, and becoming, until one’s final breath.

To say, “There’s so much more I want to do,” is to admit that the spirit is infinite even when the body is bound by years. Cruz speaks as one who has seen success, yet hungers for meaning beyond acclaim. Her words rise against the idea that age is an end — they are a revolt against stagnation, a song of persistence. In them, we hear the wisdom of those who know that fulfillment does not come from resting upon laurels, but from the continual unfolding of purpose. For the soul that ceases to seek, though its heart still beats, is already half asleep. And so she refuses that slumber; she chooses the path of renewal, the same path walked by dreamers and inventors across every age of humankind.

The ancients, too, honored such endurance. In Greece, the philosopher Sophocles wrote his final play, Oedipus at Colonus, when he was nearly ninety. His mind did not dim with age — it deepened. His art did not weaken — it matured into mastery. Likewise, Michelangelo, when asked why he continued to sculpt into his eighties, replied, “Ancora imparo” — “I am still learning.” These men, like Penélope Cruz, knew that the flame of creation is not governed by the body’s years, but by the eternal desire to give shape to beauty and truth. The artist’s spirit, like the warrior’s, is unending — it must act, must strive, must do, for to be still is to die.

When Cruz says she refuses to “wait at home for the phone to ring,” she speaks not only as an actress, but as a human being who has tasted the dangers of passivity. The phone here becomes a symbol — the false comfort of waiting for life to summon us instead of stepping forward to claim it. It represents the fear of irrelevance, the anxiety of being forgotten, the slow erosion of self-worth that comes when we surrender our agency to the world’s approval. Many have fallen to this quiet despair, sitting by the proverbial phone, waiting for opportunity to call again. But Cruz rejects this fate. She proclaims, with fierce resolve, that one must never become a bystander in one’s own life. The world owes us nothing; we must continue to create, to act, to dream.

There is a story from ancient China, of the poet Li Qingzhao, whose talent burned brightly in youth but who, even after her homeland was shattered by war and her husband lost to time, continued to write. Her later poems carried the wisdom of loss and the strength of perseverance. She did not wait for the world to restore her — she built new worlds from her words. Such, too, is the essence of Cruz’s declaration. Whether in art, in labor, or in love, we are called to remain creators, even when the world grows silent around us. True life is not found in waiting for opportunity, but in the boldness to make our own.

The meaning of Cruz’s words extends beyond the stage or the screen. It is a call to all who stand at the crossroads of comfort and purpose. The human spirit was not designed for idleness — it was made to seek, to grow, to serve, to love. Whether at twenty or at seventy, we are meant to rise each morning with something to build, something to learn, something to give. Time should not be feared, but filled — not endured, but embraced. The heart that refuses to stop dreaming defies the grave itself.

So, my listener, take this lesson from the voice of Penélope Cruz: do not wait for the phone to ring — become the call. Create your own work, your own joy, your own purpose. Let no number define your worth, no silence steal your fire. When the world grows quiet, let your own song fill the void. For the secret of the ageless soul is simple — to keep moving, to keep doing, to keep loving. As long as there is breath within you, there remains something more to do.

And thus, live as Cruz teaches: not as one who fades with time, but as one who burns brighter with every passing year, turning the fear of decline into the strength of defiance. For the true measure of life is not how long the phone rings, but how boldly you answer it — or better still, how beautifully you speak before it ever rings at all.