The Wisdom in the Comments

Wow. Just... wow. I’m overwhelmed by the warm and wise responses to my recent post on how easy it is to let the last third of life become a marathon of maintenance and self care. I wrote the piece because I was feeling it myself. I was running hard just trying to keep up with all the tasks, routines, and recommendations that the wellness industry promotes in the name of “healthy aging.”

I wrote the article to have some fun and to sort things out for myself and was caught completely off guard by the many responses to the post. I enjoyed reading every darn comment. And here’s the thing: I learned a lot from them. There is an enormous amount of wisdom out there and not all of it is coming from the longevity racket.

There are a few takeaways from the comments that I’d like to highlight. I’ll save some others for a future post because I prefer to keep things simple.

The first is the wellness industry. There is an entire modern-day snake oil machine designed to separate you from your savings. Somebody is making money from the exercise equipment you supposedly must have, the protein shake that promises to soothe your gut and extend your lifespan, the watch that tells you (as if you didn’t already know) how well you slept last night, and yes, even the endless marketing that turns yoga and tai chi from simple practices into expensive necessities.

To be clear, I’m not saying these things have no value. Not every yoga instructor is in it for the money, and some of this stuff may genuinely help. But I’d think twice before accepting anything the self-care market labels “essential.”

Often, when you strip away the marketing and the promises, what remains are the cufflinks and silk scarves of longevity—nice accessories, perhaps, but not the outfit itself. Follow the money first. Then decide whether to buy.

Another takeaway is grief.

I don’t think it is possible to overestimate the impact of grief on our lives, especially in later years. Younger people may understand grief intellectually, but many have not yet accumulated decades of losses. When you are young, losses are often scattered and infrequent. As the years pass, they become more numerous and more familiar.

And make no mistake about it: the losses keep coming.

Older people have lost beloved family members and friends. They have lost earlier versions of themselves and earlier versions of the people they love. They have lost possessions, possibilities, dreams, and often some of the ease with which they once moved through the world. They cope with aging bodies and shrinking social circles. The older you are, the more grief tends to walk beside you.

You can’t dismiss it. You can’t outsmart it. You can only learn to live alongside it.

Grief isn’t listed on the to-do list because it’s constant. It’s already there before the day begins. And it often makes all the other items on the list feel heavier.

The third and most significant takeaway for me is one word: joy.

Even with grief, with the physical aches and pains, with the fears, frustrations, and disappointments, there is still joy. There is still beauty in the world.

Some days it is hard for me to find. That’s just how I’m wired. But I’m slowly discovering ways to uncover joy even on the days when I’d rather stay under the blankets and call it good.

And these days, joy isn’t necessarily found in the big things. More often, it’s in the little things. Maybe it’s your favorite pair of red undies or plaid boxers. Maybe it’s finishing Wordle in under five tries. Maybe it’s a cup of tea and a piece of toast, eaten slowly while looking out the window. Maybe it’s knowing you have an entire afternoon to read the novel you’ve been saving or to watch a movie you’ve been looking forward to.

Whatever brings you delight, perhaps that’s what belongs on the to-do list. Not just the endless musts and shoulds that the media insists are necessary for healthy aging, but the things that remind you that you’re alive right now.

And along with joy comes levity.

We’ve got to laugh, folks.

The truth is that growing older is serious business. That’s precisely why a sense of humor becomes so important.

The original post really resonated with a lot of readers. Your comments made me stop and rethink some of my own behaviors.

I’ve already noticed a change. I no longer feel quite so compelled to do everything on the to-do list.

Maybe I won’t maximize my lifespan because I only did strength training once or twice this week. Maybe my brain won’t reach its full potential because I skipped that art history lecture. Maybe I gave up a few seconds of longevity because I didn’t get enough protein.

So be it.

I’m going to die someday anyway. What I want is to enjoy the days I have while I have them.

Thank you for your authentic responses. They helped me remember the difference.