Sixty to sixty-seven. What’s changed?
At sixty, disillusioned with work, I began to wonder if I should call it a day. I didn’t need a paycheck, but I did want to do something meaningful that would fill my soul. But what? I registered for "Transitioning With Intention" at Simon Fraser University, a course that offers a narrative assessment to help individuals make informed decisions about their lives. The process started with a question. My question?
How can I bundle up 'me' and find a new way to use my wisdom and expertise to be a positive influence, uplift others and build community - while stepping beyond my comfort zone and surpassing my personal expectations?
Next? Writing four stories of my life and work experiences, and then analyzing those stories by looking at my desires, strengths, qualities, and curiosity. The next step was to craft a statement that pulled what mattered from my stories to set realistic action steps. Here is a synopsis of my statement:
I have reached an age where I want to live at a slower pace. But my life must have meaning. I want to re-ignite passions that matter to me. I do not want to look back at my life and regret not following my dreams. I want to launch a blog that focuses on women and aging. I want to explore some ideas I have on a different approach to memoir writing – initially on a personal level and, if it seems viable, exploring how I can share this with others. I am consumed by this journey into elderhood, especially for women. I want to cultivate a shared learning journey and see where that takes me. I want to step outside of my comfort zone and ‘dare bravely’!
I launched Ageless Possibilities, my blog, in 2020. As my blog reflects my journey rowing north, I thought I would use my blog posts as a lens to examine how I have changed over the last six years.
My early blog posts show me stepping into my canoe, raising my paddle, and moving away from the shore, away from a role I had lived for over 25+ years. I set off asking:
Who am I now?
What do I do with my time?
What parts of my story still matter?
How do I make sense of what has been?
As a newly retired woman, I revisited my path, reflected on caregiving, career and motherhood, and wondered how I could integrate many years of experience into a coherent narrative. My writing focused on processing, integrating, and redefining.
After two years of blogging, my writing began to expand beyond the personal, blending my personal narrative with the collective narrative of other women, seeing my experience as both individual and part of a larger pattern. I adjusted to a new rhythm, finding renewed meaning through social connection, learning, and knowing I was contributing to something bigger.
My reflections shifted to:
What else is possible?
Who are the women walking beside me?
What can we learn from one another?
What passions are waiting?
I reached out, seeking community and stepping into new friendships. My blog posts became collective reflections about shared experiences.
This past year, my blog posts have reflected the greater breadth and depth of the life I am living. I am content. My mind is focused on more meaningful reflection, inviting you to join me in contemplating our shared experiences as this journey unfolds.
What does my blogging tell me about myself?
I have gone from trying to understand my journey to settling into myself.
As I stepped into retirement, I was trying to make sense of my history, roles, regrets, and transitions. Now, even though I may not have all the answers, I no longer need explanations. I am content with who I am and the life I am living.
Life has slowed down.
Six years ago, I still measured life by accomplishments and proving myself. Now there’s spaciousness. I linger. I wonder. I am comfortable living inside questions without needing to solve them.
The past has softened
While I still write about the past, my regrets, anger, and hurt have softened. These days, I have a better understanding of what happened and why. But more importantly, I am at peace with the past.
I have moved from me to we.
I am no longer just writing to understand myself. I hope I have created a space where you can feel seen, heard, and valued.
Six years ago, I was searching for answers. Today, I feel settled. I no longer measure my worth by productivity. I am more at ease with my past, more spacious with my time, and more interested in connection than explanation.
As an older woman navigating your own transition, I invite you to also pause and reflect. What is calling you now? What wisdom have you gathered? What dreams are still waiting for your attention?
