The Power of Personal Narrative: Rewriting Your Story After 60
Have you ever found yourself saying, “I’m not good at crafts,” “I’m not athletic,” or “I always end up with the wrong person”? These statements often stem from repeated thoughts that morph into beliefs. Sure, some might be rooted in past experiences—like that time you couldn’t cut a straight line with scissors. But when we repeatedly repeat these stories to ourselves, they become our unchallenged truth.
Three Stages of Retirement: Go-Go, Slow-Go, and No-Go
Have you ever read any of those pregnancy or child-development books—like What to Expect When You’re Expecting or Louise Bates Ames’s series on young children—and thought, “That’s never going to happen to me or my kids”? I know I did. (Think hemorrhoids and biting classmates—ouch!) Yet, as life progressed, I realized most of those predicted milestones ended up being surprisingly accurate. Well, it turns out there’s a similar framework for retirement, and it’s probably more realistic than we’d like to admit.
Finding CALM in Life’s Changes: A Guide for Over 60s
In a year that promises plenty of change—a new old president, more climate-related challenges, the transition at home as my husband retires, another birthday, and travel to places both planned and unplanned—I’ve chosen CALM as my word for the year. It’s my anchor for navigating an already busy and unpredictable agenda.
To help keep me centered, I’ve turned CALM into an acronym that serves as my True North:
Curious
Accept
Loving
Mindful
Here’s how I plan to use CALM when life gets challenging, whether it’s dealing with difficulties, disappointments, boredom, or uncertainty:
Aging Out Loud: What’s Never Going to Be and What’s Next
This week, I turn 64. That feels like an out-of-body experience. Sixty-four doesn’t feel like something that could have anything to do with me. How did I get here?
One way I manage the shock of getting older is by pre-gaming my birthday. About four or five months beforehand, I start thinking of myself as the next year’s age. When someone asks how old I am, I say, “Almost 64.” And now, here it is: I am 64.
The only downside to this strategy is that when my birthday actually arrives, I can’t remember if I’m turning 64 or 65. For a moment, I’ll think, Wait, did I skip a year? It’s a harmless mind game—a way to nudge myself toward acceptance.
But those internal games are nothing compared to the ones the world plays with me. The ads I see. The snail mail I get. Just last week, I received a burial plot solicitation—nothing says, “Happy Birthday!” like a brochure for eternal rest.