Blooming in full colour
One of my icons, Iris Apfel, who lived her life in full colour to the very end!
Introduction
I recently lost my father. He lived a full life and died peacefully at the age of 91—the kind of passing many of us quietly hope for. And yet, even when a life has been long and well lived, loss reminds us of something we often prefer not to face: aging is not always easy. It brings beauty, yes, but also many obstacles. We begin to lose friends. We accompany loved ones to doctor’s appointments, treatments, and hospital rooms. Funerals become more frequent than weddings. Slowly, almost without noticing, we find ourselves standing in a new season of life.
For much of our lives, we move forward absorbed by responsibilities, relationships, work, and the daily complexities of life. We are often so busy living that we do not pause to consider what lies ahead. Then, one day, something changes. It may be a diagnosis, a loss, a slower step, or simply the quiet awareness in our bodies that we are no longer young.
But aging is not only a story of decline. The elder stage of life can also be a sacred time of gathering, reflecting, and deepening. It invites us to look back with honesty, to honour the gifts and joys we have received, and to make peace with the disappointments, sorrows, and unfinished places in our lives.
This season offers us an opportunity for what some call “soul work”: the work of healing broken relationships, releasing old burdens, attending to unfinished business, and becoming more whole. It is a time to ask not only, “What have I achieved?” but also, “What have I learned? What do I still need to forgive? What love do I still need to give?”
Any act of letting go involves love. As we loosen our grip on what can no longer be controlled, we may begin to live more closely aligned with our essential selves. We become more accepting of the unknown, more open to mystery, and perhaps more able to receive grace in unexpected forms.
There is a phrase I find deeply meaningful: “the grace of diminishment.” It does not deny the losses of aging. Rather, it invites us to shift our lens—to notice what remains, what deepens, what becomes more precious, and what can still bloom in full colour.
Have you ever heard someone say, “It is really wonderful to be old”? Perhaps not often. And yet, maybe part of our work today is to imagine what it would mean to say that with sincerity—not because aging is simple, but because it can be rich with wisdom, strength, tenderness, humour, faith, courage, and joy.
Aging is not merely the closing of a chapter. It is another chapter in the sacred journey of life. Today, we will explore how this golden season can be a time to honour your story, recognise your resilience, nurture joy and self-care, leave a legacy of love and connection, embrace new beginnings, and allow your inner beauty to shine.
Your story matters
As a Family Constellation Facilitator, there is no phrase I believe more deeply than this: your story matters. I will not go into too much detail about what Family Constellation work entails—you are very welcome to speak with me afterwards if you would like to know more—but at its heart, this work looks at you within the wider story of your family. It explores the history, legacies, loyalties, burdens, and patterns that can continue from one generation to the next.
That is why your story matters—not only to you as you grow older, but also to your children, your grandchildren, and those who come after you. They may not yet realise how much it matters. They may be in a stage of life where they are focused on building, doing, achieving, or surviving. But one day, they may long to understand where they come from, what shaped their family, and what wisdom was carried before them.
In many ways, our culture does not honour the later stages of life as deeply as some other cultures do. We often carry an unspoken fear of growing old: fear of wrinkles, grey hair, menopause, reduced energy, changing bodies, and the possibility that we may no longer be able to do what we once did. Instead of seeing aging as a softening into another sacred stage of life, we often resist it.
And yet, in certain cultures, aging is met with reverence. In some communities, there is not even a word for “menopause” in the way we understand it, because it is not viewed as a burden or a loss. Rather, it is recognised as a transition: a movement from the younger phase of life, often centred around child-rearing and outward responsibility, into a place of wisdom, strength, spiritual depth, and respected presence.
Wrinkles can be seen as the lines of a life fully lived. Grey hair can become a symbol of status and honour. The older person is not pushed aside, but recognised as someone who carries memory, perspective, and blessing. I often wonder: where have we lost this in our own culture?
At the heart of it all, every human being wants to belong. We want to know where we come from. We want to understand how we evolved, what shaped us, and what stories live beneath the surface of our lives. Often, the only way we can truly discover this is through our elders.
In my work, I sometimes see the deep sense of something being “amiss” in people who lost parents at a young age, or who were adopted and do not know their full story. It can feel like moving through life without an anchor. That is why the stories of elders are not merely memories; they are roots. They give the next generation a sense of place, continuity, and belonging.
When you explore your own story and have the courage to tell it, you begin to discover the deeper meaning in the experiences that have shaped your life. You may begin to treasure not only the joyful moments, but also the struggles, the losses, the lessons, and the turning points. In doing so, you open yourself to embracing aging not as an ending, but as an opportunity to gather the wisdom of your life and offer it as a gift.
I would like to end this point with these words from “ElderSpirit”:
We are the mentors, the wisdom keepers,
We are the ones who bestow the blessings of spiritual legacy.
We are the survivors with a story to tell that can save others.
We are the ones who serve notice that it is possible to transcend “doing” in favour of “being”.
We are the models of what it means to arrive wounded and triumphant at the end.
We are the mapmakers for the final uncharted part of the journey.
We are the elders.
Strength in Resilience
Anne Lamott writes, “We contain all the ages we have ever been.” I love that thought, because it reminds us that growing older does not mean leaving ourselves behind. The little girl, the young woman, the mother, the worker, the friend, the one who struggled, the one who survived, the one who laughed until she cried — all of them are still part of us. Age does not erase who we were; it gathers us into something fuller.
Research often shows something rather surprising: many people are happiest at the beginning and towards the end of their lives. Older people can, in many cases, experience better mental health than those in the stressful middle years of life. Who knew? Perhaps this is because, with age, we begin to understand what truly matters and what is simply not worth carrying anymore.
But to receive the gifts of this season, we have to be honest about it. Denial creates an artificial and painful divide between who we are now and who we are becoming. When we pretend that ageing is not happening, we lose the chance to meet it with grace. Accepting our age does not mean giving up. It means standing in the truth of our lives with ease, dignity, and even pride.
I once heard someone say, “All ageing is successful — not only the sporty version. Otherwise, you would be dead.” There is such freedom in that. We are often shown only one acceptable picture of ageing: fit, energetic, productive, glowing, and preferably looking twenty years younger. But real ageing is much wider than that. It includes tired knees, slower mornings, medication, changing bodies, grief, humour, wisdom, and deep courage.
Our culture does not always offer older women a generous reflection of themselves. Too often, as women age, their bodies, sexuality, opinions, and even their minds are subtly devalued. There are tired stereotypes that suggest older women are difficult, nosy, bossy, judgmental, or simply in the way. But we know this is not the truth. Older women are not one-dimensional. They are complex, wise, funny, tender, strong, wounded, gifted, and still becoming.
In fact, some studies suggest that many women become increasingly happier as they grow older, especially after midlife. One statistic from the United Kingdom found that women between 65 and 79 reported some of the highest levels of happiness. So, if you are not there yet, perhaps we can say: at least there is something to look forward to!
As we age, we may become less fascinated by perfect bodies and more interested in faces — the faces that reveal decades of joy, sorrow, laughter, disappointment, love, and survival. A face that has lived has a kind of beauty that cannot be manufactured. It tells the truth.
There is also a very practical wisdom that comes with age: “The kinder you are to them, the longer they last.” What are we talking about? Your knees, your bank account, your friendships, your husband, your swimsuit — absolutely everything! Age teaches us that care matters. What we nurture tends to endure.
Happiness in this season is not about receiving a perfect set of circumstances. It depends, in many ways, on how we respond to what we have been given. Resilience is the strength to face this next phase of life honestly, without pretending it is always easy, but also without closing ourselves off to the new things it may bring.
Although we all grow older, we do not automatically grow wiser. Wisdom asks something of us. It asks us to practise perspective, to manage our emotions, to create more life-giving stories about ourselves, and to keep forming meaningful relationships. It asks us to cultivate joy, gratitude, humour, compassion, and meaning in everyday life. These are not small things. They are the muscles of emotional resilience.
On the other hand, secrets, denial, and avoidance can slowly close the heart. When we refuse to listen to our emotions, we may remain stuck in old pain. But when we allow ourselves to feel, to speak, to grieve, and to forgive, healing becomes possible. Our emotions are not enemies; they are often messengers leading us back to life.
So perhaps resilience in this golden chapter looks like this: becoming more curious and less worried, more self-aware and less reactive, softer without becoming weak, stronger without becoming hard. It is the courage to say, “I am still here. I am still learning. I am still becoming. And there is still colour in me.”
Resilience is not a fixed trait, you can master the skill of resilience in the same ways you learn to cook, drive or do yoga. Growth isn’t inevitable.
Don't panic
Keep your wits about you, think clearly, manage your emotions skilfully and you will experience a joyous time in your life.
In this new phase you will be challenged by internal and external crises. When these transitions happen and identities change, the greatest challenge is to find a new sense of meaning and purpose. The main thing is that it takes effort, you have to construct meaning in your own life by what you do, how you help and what stories you tell yourself. Balance is of utmost importance. Women in some ways are luckier than men, because we have familiar roles which form continuance; household chores, care for family and friends and it holds your life together. To find new purpose you have to create new habits. You need to have a developmental perspective with openness in heart and mind. When you limit your belief in your own potential to grow, you also limit your incentive to grow.
We need to craft for ourselves a place in society with new responsibilities and goals. You need to cope with a radically changing body, a new set of expectations and cultural stereotypes.
This life stage is defined by both suffering and happiness and the contradictions of this life stage makes it a portal for expanding our souls.
With attitude and gratitude you can adapt.
Though you have lost a great deal, you can strive to become a person who experience a great appreciation for life.
Contentment comes from acceptance of life as it is.
“Ageism” is a prejudice against one’s own future self.
“Happy people have found a use for themselves like a good tool”
Barbara Kingsolver