Claiming My Wisdom Years

Recently, the man who supervises the exercise equipment at Cardiac Rehab told me I needed to “act my age.” At first, the words sounded sharp, maybe even ageist, but they struck a chord.

I had been living as though I were far younger than I am. That attitude kept me active and fit, but it also pushed my body beyond what it could manage, especially my heart, which eventually faltered under the strain. Only in hindsight did I see how hard I was driving myself to handle the same workload and stress I carried with ease years ago. My sense of age hadn’t caught up with the reality of what time was asking of me.

Even so, I like to think of the elder years as the “wisdom years.” In many Indigenous cultures, elders hold a respected place as guides and teachers. In our dominant U.S. culture, that role is far less defined, and I often struggle to find role models who embody it.

As I approach my 80s, I’m asking myself what it means to live into these wisdom years with intention. How do I honor the limits of my body while still offering the strengths of my spirit? How do I step into age not as a fading away, but as a time to share perspective, experience, and guidance?

For me, that means claiming this season as a kind of sabbatical. A time to restore myself and reimagine what the years ahead might look like. I won’t be disappearing from TLC, but I’ll be stepping back. The Board is exploring ways to share responsibilities through project teams, and while our events will continue, they will be scaled back a bit. Personally, I look forward to enjoying the retreat aspect of TLC, tending the gardens when I can, and allowing space for renewal.

And so I step into my new role with a smile:  “Faerie Godmother Emeritus.” Now that feels wise.

Here’s to slowing down, growing wiser, and tending both gardens and hearts.

-Robin