November 2021

As I reflect on all the years leading up to my 80th birthday, my heart is bursting with joy. Remembering and reminiscing on all the good experiences I’ve been blessed to have had in the past, I’m in awe of the vivid possibilities that lie ahead.

The happiest birthday I’ll ever have is the one with another candle to blow out. The romantic poet Robert Browning was right on when he invited us all to “grow old along with me! The best is yet to be.”

The older we grow, the greater our potential to thrive. More and more, when we’re lucky to live into old age, we become the grown-up in the room. This gives us the ability to demonstrate what a well-lived life looks like from the wider perspective of accumulated experiences of love, loss and joy.

The best is always in the growing, the becoming—in the opportunity to improve our skills as good human beings. Excellence is the result of virtue, ethics, integrity, focus, compassion and hard work. I’m contemplating all the exciting challenges and triumphs that lie ahead for each of us as I reflect on the invaluable lessons I’ve learned in my 80th year. Hats off to us for the past struggles we’ve handled with patience, courage and determination.

Mark Twain’s sense of humor and wisdom gave us the insight that “life would be infinitely happier if we could only be born at the age of eighty and gradually approach eighteen.” What’s remarkably prescient about Twain’s wise knowledge of the human condition is that by the time we’re blessed to become 80 years old, we loosen up and become more playful, mischievous and fun loving. We don’t take ourselves as seriously as we did in our youth, but miraculously, we have the potential to cultivate more empathy that leads to greater compassion.

Experience is always better than theory. We don’t know what we don’t know. Because Peter Brown was 20 years older than me, I was able to intimately observe his ageless spirits soaring as his body showed signs of his advancing age. Looking back, I’m certain that my being so much younger inspired him to remain vibrant, not giving into his aches and pains. Peter’s natural happiness was 13 on a scale of 1 to 10. One of his favorite answers to an invitation to do something was “I’m in favor.” His grin and double thumbs-up demonstrated his enthusiasm. Peter, in his 92nd year, was well aware that he was living on borrowed time; toward the end of his earthly journey he savored each present moment.

Life’s only certainty is death. Philosophers believe that you can’t consider if a person has lived a happy life until after they have died. While it is true that basic temperament and personalities tend to remain stable over a lifetime, extenuating circumstances can change someone’s coping skills, weakening their will to live. Peter’s character shined through, illuminating his love of life.

The greatest gift we have to give ourselves and the universe is a genuine, disciplined love of life. As the clock ticks and gongs, moving me into this fresh new decade, I’m pleased to report that I have never appreciated being alive more than I do now. Because of our intimacy and devotion, Peter’s example of savoring each precious moment with childlike wonder and delight inspires my more mindful observations.

My dear friend Kerri’s younger daughter Colleen and Peter had a special rapport. When young adults respect their elders, doors fling wide open. “Hurry never” was one of Peter’s mantras. Peter loved corn, and popcorn was his favorite snack. He’d purr if he was handed a bowl of popcorn. Colleen vividly remembers a moment with Peter as they both nibbled on each kernel. The deliberate, slow motion, examining each individual piece as unique to his eye as a snowflake. “Isn’t this exquisite.” “Magnifique.” Recently Colleen recalled Peter’s concentration on the art of popcorn appreciation to her mother when enjoying a popcorn break that they turned into a banquet in his honor, laughing in the remembering.

Out of habit and ritual, I treat myself to a small bag of popcorn daily. When I’m mindful, I emulate Peter’s reverence, triggering wonderful memories of his enthusiasm. Pausing, I can envision his delight, making my experience a rich inner satisfaction as well as a taste treat.

Because I don’t bounce around the way I did before I was diagnosed with RA, I find a silver lining in my transforming interest in the most subtle, delicate nuances of beauty. Seeing well takes time. By a slower pace, “be here now” is where I am. I’m able to discover a new flowering bud on my rose tree or spend a meditative moment breathing in the sea air while watching the ripples and whitecaps in a strong wind, without the least compunction to be distracted. I’m more in awe at my enjoyment of what’s in front of me.

I feel I’m on the tip of the highest mountain. At the exact same breath, I feel deeply grounded, soaking in all the positive energy from the good earth. I’m delighted to arrive at this milestone birthday feeling happy, grateful, passionate and peaceful. I hope you find everyday “birth days.” Age is a beautiful reality when it sharpens our perspective, allowing more light to lift us up higher, more courageously, more lovingly.

As my favorite American president, Abraham Lincoln, understood, all that is expected of us is to do the very best we know how, the very best we can. Whenever we can ease someone’s physical or emotional pain, we are boosting our own healing and happiness as we work through our own situations knowing we are heard, understood and loved. When we care, we can console, comfort and celebrate life’s preciousness in the same breath. Intuitively we will be guided by our compassionate spirit.

Thank you for your words and pictures. You inspire me to keep writing. Thank you!