Caring Side-by-Side Companionship in care can work as a quiet medicine. In later life, it often matters as much as any plan, protocol or prescription: a steady presence, a soft word, someone willing to sit and not hurry the moment. When we offer companionship in care,
What the Science Says (and What It Doesn’t) The body needs care. The soul seeks meaning. Prayer meets them both. What Do We Mean by “Healing”? Healing can mean more than a clean scan. It can be fewer complications after treatment, steadier blood pressure, pain eased a notch.
The spaciousness, where introverts find strength within. Introverts—the quiet majority—remind us that not everyone experiences community the same way. Some of us lean into the joy of being surrounded by people. Others find that same closeness overwhelming. Both are true. Both are human. And both belong
We seek healing in many ways—in many tongues, through many channels. For some, it’s prayer; for others, meditation or quiet intention. Sometimes it’s a friend’s comforting hand, or the wind in the trees. In waiting rooms and kitchens, we steady ourselves in whatever language the heart
“The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.” — Kahlil Gibran To live long is to become a witness. A witness to births and weddings, to laughter bouncing off kitchen walls — and to the long, slow fading of voices we once
A Bit of Fading One of our readers sent us a quiet, luminous poem after reading our recent article The Gift of Growing Smaller: Ego and Aging as Spiritual Practice. She titled her piece A Bit of Fading—and in just a few lines, she captured something
Embracing Impermanence in Later Life To surrender is not to give up—it is to let go of what was never ours to hold forever. Embracing impermanence in later life often begins as an ache, disguised as loss. We release roles, routines, and identities that once anchored us.
Every generation has sought an escape from pain, only to learn that what promises freedom can become its own kind of prison. Addiction rarely begins as rebellion. It begins as relief—a glass of wine to soften the ache, a pill to quiet the nerves, a screen
“I retired just about a year ago and now find myself volunteering on a level that’s pretty much like the job I left. No wonder I’m miserable. I didn’t really retire—I just changed jobs. Retirement is supposed to be about nurturing your authentic self. Letting
What we leave is not always what we planned—it is who we have become. Legacy in spiritual aging is not the accumulation of possessions or even the achievements we once prized. It is the quieter trace we leave in the lives of others—wisdom shared, kindness given,