Last Sunday’s reflection on The Four Agreements began with the first agreement: Be impeccable with your word. It’s a familiar phrase. But once we sit with it, the emphasis shifts. The question is no longer simply what we say, but how carefully we speak—especially when words
Fortunately, There's a Cure (for Busyness) “Don’t just sit there, do something!” has been the marching order of modern life. But maybe the wiser advice, long buried under deadlines and to-do lists, is the reverse: “Don’t just do something, sit there.” After all, if you can’t
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 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,
Breath as Prayer Breath in later life becomes a teacher. It slows us down, brings us back, and reminds us that presence isn’t a theory—it’s an inhale and an exhale. When we attend to the breath, we remember that life is happening now. In younger years, we
Feeding More Than the Body Nourishment in later life means more than food. It’s about what feeds the soul, sustains the heart, and keeps hope alive. A shared meal, a meaningful conversation, the quiet joy of a poem remembered—these moments remind us that nourishment takes many
Hearing the Heartbeat Sound in later life takes on a different texture. We listen more deeply—not just to words, but to the spaces between them. A birdcall in the early morning, the hum of a familiar voice, the steady rhythm of our own breath—these become companions,
Grace in Motion Movement in later life becomes something different. It's no longer about performance or pace. It's presence. A return to rhythm. A way of listening to the body, not to conquer it, but to dwell in it with compassion and grace. Our younger selves may
Ego and aging are intertwined in ways we often don’t see until later in life. The ego, once the loudest voice in the room, begins to fade into the background. Not silenced, but softened. Less of a director, more of a narrator. Still
Mercy in later life is not weakness. It is wisdom softened by love. It may begin with forgiveness—but it doesn’t end there. Mercy is how we respond to human frailty, including our own. It’s how we carry the weight of what didn’t go