I am 60, which according to Candace, makes me a “young whippersnapper”. Yes, I have a lot to learn about aging, and hopefully, a lot of aging ahead of me.

But I have been paying attention to my elders. And they have taught me a thing or two about aging gracefully.

Today I want to share about my father-in-law, Ray, who died at age 96, and what I learned from loving and being loved by him.

Our Ray, The Other Ray Charles, was a renowned, Emmy-winning choral arranger who worked in radio, television, and films. He was Perry Como’s vocal arranger and stand-in for over 30 years. His Como Show choir, The Ray Charles Singers, cut 30 albums in their heyday and had a hit with “Love Me with All Your Heart”. Ray worked on the original Muppet Show in London, where he shared an office with Jim Henson. He was a special music consultant for The Kennedy Center Honors. And much, much more. Look him up on Wikipedia.

Ray sang the opening theme to TV’s Three’s Company: “Come and knock on our door. We’ve been waiting for you.”

And he really sells those lyrics.

As an estate planning attorney, I hear a lot of people say, “I don’t own anything. I don’t need an estate plan.” Here we go again, I think. How could anyone think they don’t need an estate plan?

My first impulse is to run screaming out of the room. But then I say to myself, “What would you accomplish by doing that? Aren’t you committed to being of service and contribution to each and every prospective client?”

So, instead, I silence the screaming in my head. I remind myself that financial and legal literacy are not ubiquitous in our culture, which is actually why I chose this job. Then I calmly ask the prospective client to tell me about themself, their life, and what they want their legacy to be.

Apollo 15 astronaut David Scott reached the pinnacle of his career when he landed on and returned safely from the Moon. He was 39 years old. “My career had been finished,” he later told a reporter "and that's it. Now go find a new career.” There Scott was at 39 asking: What’s next? What do you do after you’ve landed on the Moon?

How many of us after we’ve finished our careers and retired have asked: What’s next?

I was 70 when I retired from a 45-year career that I loved.

Imagine, getting to do what you REALLY, REALLY LOVE. Imagine your job is something which for you is the most important way you could use your life. That’s how my career was for me.

Over the course of 45 years, I got to know and interact at a profound level with over 150,000 people from diverse cultures all over the planet, empowering them to create lives they loved. It was my version of a Moon walk. And then it was finished.

So, I’d Walked on the Moon.

What was next?

A Happier You in 5 Minutes a Day! The simplest, most effective thing you can do every day to be happier

For at least a decade I have wanted to keep a journal, and I start and stop journaling at least a few times each year. Each new resolution to journal begins with a trip to my favorite stationery store or to Amazon to purchase the latest "must have" beautiful blank book. After many half-written journals, much money spent, and most damaging of all, a stream of broken promises to myself, someone introduced me to The 5-Minute Journal created by Alex Iknonn and A. J. Ramdas.

At last, success! I found a journal that works for people like me. Not only have I stopped my wasteful pattern of collecting half-filled-out journals, but I have a daily and nightly journaling habit that I actually stick to.

From age 46 to age 66 I ran my own business, an arty boutique in Santa Monica, CA. The ongoing conversation in my head, and with a few friends and acquaintances and, well okay, with some of my customers, coworkers, and the UPS guy, was that I had no intention of retiring. I would keep working until I couldn’t. Not for lack of money. I realize now that it was for lack of imagination! I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if I retired.

I had to DO SOMETHING after all! I am a doer, and I don’t mean workaholic. I also DO movies, swimming, reading, TV, lunch dates, travel, shopping, museum visits, restaurants, theater, and Dodger baseball – sometimes at the stadium but mostly at home on the couch.

Another reason I couldn’t imagine retiring is that I am driven to be USEFUL. Not only at work, but also to my family and friends and to the organizations I participate with.

Then I closed my beloved store “gioia” (Italian for “joy”). I don’t need to tell you what has been happening to small retail businesses. Even I shop online now, so I can’t blame my customers, right?

Everything was fine. Really.

My husband and I found ourselves in our mid-sixties with a truly nice set of circumstances. We had our health, a solid 35-year marriage, three gainfully-employed daughters who actually like us, a lovely home on a tree-lined street in South Pasadena California*, and many very long term, VERY dear friends.

*If you think you don’t know South Pasadena, look at any commercial with craftsman houses or an old-timey pharmacy in the background…that’s it.

Why then was I discontented? I’m not sure I can explain it, you’ll just have to trust that after years of “everything’s fine” I found myself crying uncontrollably one day. I thought maybe I needed to leave my husband, and I blamed my despair on the lack of passion in our relationship. I resolved to have it out with him.

Well, the conversation did not go as expected (thank God).

An Unexpected Source of Happiness!

My husband and I recently attended a funeral, which as we age, seems to happen more frequently than we care for, and we looked at each other and said, “We need to figure out what we’re going to do.” It is not like we hadn’t discussed this in the past, but we'd really resisted making any decisions or plans because we just didn’t like our alternatives. We had agreed many years ago that we both wanted to be cremated, but then, what about the ashes?  We hated the idea of burdening someone with disposing of them, and neither of us wanted to be an albatross in a box taking up space in a closet. And, we absolutely knew we didn’t want to be locked in a mausoleum with our names on a brass plaque. So, we found ourselves stuck in the same place we had been for years, simply doing nothing.  

Age brings many opportunities to grow wiser if we are open to the possibilities an open mind brings. Opportunities to shift perspective–though sometimes unexpected and even unwelcome–are a part of life.

I have grown to appreciate my growing ability to move more gracefully toward the silver lining that lives just beyond the struggles and challenges I face. That is not to say I don’t grieve loss or grumble as I find my footing. I do. But I also accept change as a part of life and look for ways to ride the storms.

The past few months have certainly been an opportunity for us all to shift perspectives and reflect upon the value of embracing less. Restrictions and limitations on what we previously considered essential to daily life and on how we meet our needs have made revisions and new thinking inescapable. As we pause to consider what is most important to us, a growing need to consider the greater good of our communities and our world is also evolving.

I have prided myself and promoted to anyone who would listen that I am YOLD (young/old). To celebrate my 70th birthday, I ran my first half marathon. At 71, I took Bollywood Dance classes. I have traveled the globe, and last year at the tender age of 72, while in Tibet, I hiked in the Himalayas. (Before you get too impressed, a van took us up to the hiking spot. “The hike” was more like an hour’s walk before reboarding the van. But it was the damn Himalayas, and people could barely breathe.)

A few months later, as I was turning 73, without warning I noticed the first symptom of old person's disease had snuck up on me. I was in the act of standing up after having been seated for an hour, when I caught myself making that sound that the elderly make when standing or sitting down....Ahhhhh, like an exhale. Not the good Ahhhh as in AWESOME.  This was the creepy ahhh of something taking too much effort.

I wasn't about to tell anyone, but I started to have dark thoughts....

The conversation that woke me up

It was the fall of 2018, and I was having what I thought was a casual conversation with my friend Gordon Starr–just two business leaders catching up on what we were up to personally and with our work–one of many such conversations we’d had over the years. Then I mentioned that my 65th birthday was approaching and I wasn’t sure how to feel about that milestone. How had 65 crept up on me so fast?

”You’re approaching 65. So you’ve got maybe 25 years left. How are you going to spend the next 25 years of your life?” Gordon asked.

What?  This was no longer a casual conversation.

“Try flipping your aging paradigm like I did,” he advised. “I have 22 years left, and I really recommend looking at how you are going to take advantage of what life has given you so far. How will you make the maximum difference going forward?” 

Whoa! Gordon’s questions had stopped me in my tracks. I needed to think.

A Social Quid Pro Quo

About ten years ago I started thinking about retiring. I lived in Mexico and was teaching university students online, having already stepped back from the most active elements of my career working as a consultant for large organizations. A few years later, I moved back to the US and slowly wound down my teaching work. It took me a few years to go from “thinking about it” to making it official, but for the last three years I have been fully retired.

At first it was kind of nice; I had no serious responsibilities. I had no clients to call, no student papers to correct, and no research duties. Life was good…for a couple of months.

However, after catching up on my reading list and binge-watching Game of Thrones, I started to get bored. I started to not have a reason to get out of bed in the morning. I would lie there and think about what I had to do that day: Let’s see…coffee, read the local paper (bad news), surf the net (more bad news), and walk my dogs (the high point of my day). I started to wish I had kids and grandkids. Maybe I could offer some sage advice about something or nurture a sick child. Anything to make me feel like I was being of value as I had when I felt my clients and students held me in some regard. I had no real friends nearby so visiting them was out of the question.

I had lived in this state of mind for a few months when I started to realize it was affecting my mental health. I was starting to feel depressed...

All the lonely people. Where do they all come from?

There have been very few times in my adult life when I really needed to cry. The one time that stands out for me I was stationed in Vietnam with the First Infantry Division. You might think that there is a lot to be emotionally distressed about when serving in a war zone and you would be right. However, I wasn’t crying because I was afraid, I was crying because I felt incredibly alone. I was far from home, living with a bunch of men I hardly knew, and I was not sure if I was going to make it back. I thought about my family and friends and how much I missed them. These thoughts all came together to create an overwhelming sense of loneliness. 

Even now, 50 years later, I find myself sometimes being lonely. My wife and I have no children, and my wife is frequently away from home traveling on business. I can spend days in the house alone with my two dogs; reading, writing, surfing the net, gardening, and watching TV. Having been an academic, I’m used to spending a great deal of time reading books and journals. A very solitary endeavor.

Getting older getting you down? Try flipping your aging paradigm.

On this crisp fall afternoon, I’m sitting at my desk in my Pacific Heights office, a converted A-frame studio condo at the top of a three-story Victorian, bathed in sunlight from windows on three sides. The flip chart behind me has scribbled notes from my earlier session with a group of exuberant, world-tackling millennials looking to join one of my leadership programs. I’m finishing my second cup of Peets Ethiopian coffee before a call with long-time client. My 72nd birthday is coming up, I’m thinking, which means I have 20 years to go.

It all started mid-July four years ago. I was at a rustic conference center in Bass Lake, high in the mountains just outside Yosemite. The days were beautiful, the birds singing, the majestic pines swaying gently in the warm breeze, and the nearby creek gurgling peacefully. Yet, I was not peaceful.

Science and Beauty From the Garden

The dichotomy of gardening

It has always occurred to me that there is a sort of fundamental dichotomy in gardening. On one hand gardening takes work, energy, perseverance, and money. On the other hand, it is relaxing, fulfilling and provides a sense of accomplishment. I am of an age where spending time on my hands and knees planting spring bulbs is taxing. Carrying bags of compost and potting soil taps into my back and knees. After a day in the garden, I need a hot bath and time to relax my aging muscles.

So, what is it that keeps me coming back and putting more effort into my small plot of land? There is not always an immediate sense of satisfaction. Bulbs takes months to come up and flower. Bare root roses take time to grow and bloom. Of course, there is the ongoing and sometimes time-consuming tasks of controlling weeds and pests. Unless I’m planting a bed of annuals, I’m not likely to get immediate gratification.