There are mornings when the lower back wakes us before the first cup of coffee has a chance to help. Most of us treat these moments as minor irritations—one more reminder that the body is no longer as forgiving as it once was. And yet, every so
Certainty can be helpful. It lets us make choices, commit to them, and stay steady when life feels unpredictable. But there’s another side to certainty. If we hold on to it too tightly, our world can shrink. We might stop listening or stop questioning what
Inner work in later life doesn’t usually begin with a decision. It shows up in small moments—a reaction that lingers, a thought that returns, a feeling that doesn’t quite pass. Not everything that unsettles us is meant to be solved. Some things are meant to be
Forgive me at the outset. I like puns. Years ago, my best friend’s mother would say they were the lowest form of humor. We disagreed. A good pun, if it holds, does more than play with words. It carries two meanings at once and lets them
Humility in later life is often misunderstood as a lowering of oneself. In practice, it is closer to making room—an openness that allows something beyond our own certainty to enter. It does not draw attention to itself. But without it, a life can begin to narrow. Traditions
What success can hide—and what keeps a life open There is a particular risk that comes with success. Not failure. Not struggle. Success. When things go well long enough, something begins to change. People listen more closely. They defer. They assume you know what you’re doing—not
Theodore Roosevelt was anything but cautious. He moved quickly, took on fights others avoided, and usually came out ahead. When challenged, he pushed back harder. He had already been president. Still, it wasn’t enough. After his tenure in the White House, he sought a new challenge. Roosevelt found it
Renewal in later life is often spoken of as a beginning again. A fresh start. A return. But for many who have lived through loss or change, renewal does not arrive that way. It doesn’t restore what was. It doesn’t return things to their former place. And
Retirement is supposed to bring relief. More time. Fewer demands. A different pace. And for many, it does. But after a while, something else becomes noticeable. The day is no longer organized for you. It is less clear where you are needed. The answer to “What do you do?” takes a
Last week we reflected on katabasis—the descent. The Greeks paired that word with another: anabasis, a going up. Not a return to the way things were, but a movement into something that follows. After a difficult stretch of life, there are times when a person begins