Gloriously 62: Why I'm Celebrating Every Wrinkle and Wisdom Line

Double-clicking on lessons I've learned.

This is me: 62 and Sassy.

As of yesterday, I'm 62 years old. Yep, my knees are aching, my skin is sagging, and I can’t remember why I walked into the room. But do you know what? I’m here to tell you the good news about turning 62.

1. I survived 100% of my worst days.

Everyone has seen bad days, but some leave scars. I survived a divorce I initiated that left our family in tatters. The effects of the upheaval ripple into the present day, forever reminding them and me of how our lives changed. For the past 15 years, I have been rebuilding a foundation of respect and honesty—something I never experienced in my own childhood.

My parents didn't respect my autonomy, and as a result, I felt I had to hide the truth from them to ensure their love. I don't want to condition my love for my children to act a certain way. My overriding message is that they can't do anything that will interrupt my love for them. I still make parenting missteps, but I want to nurture a relationship pliable enough to withstand all the growth and changes that life brings forth.

I've survived other profound failures, too. In the early 2000s, I owned a franchise, juggling countless roles—sales, accounting, marketing, and logistics. You wear many hats when you have your own business. To put food on the table, I had to learn new skills fast.

There are many joys in running things your way, and it's especially sweet when you win new customers. I won several large accounts despite my inexperience in the business and, in particular, sales. Business cycles are fluid and finicky, especially in retail. Diversification in the customer base is key in all businesses, and my income relied disproportionately on corporate retail customers. Not that it would have changed anything, but it would have been good to know that 58% of retail chains don't survive their first five years.

I remember vividly the day I lost my second-largest customer to a competitor, only hours after learning that my largest retail client had filed for bankruptcy. Both bread-and-butter accounts in one day? It felt like a bad dream that I couldn’t wake up from. That devastating blow decimated my business and nearly broke me. My company survived, but my will to continue eventually faded.

The unexpected gift? This "failure" led me to a more secure full-time job that utilized the skills I'd developed as an entrepreneur and ultimately created a better financial future for my family.

These failures—in business and marriage—were high-stakes losses that could have paralyzed me with fear of trying again. Instead, I've seen them as an education that taught me invaluable lessons.

As long as I want to continue learning, I will keep failing.

2. I've learned much in the past six decades, especially from my kids.

I always wanted children, but like most parents, I didn't understand what I was getting into. This role continues to teach and develop me as a person. Add in new additions like spouses, grandkids, and grand-dogs, my family is a never dull mélange of humanity and sentient beings. As each new energy enters the family, it's a constant shift or pivot, to which I say, viva la difference! As an only child, I always enjoyed being around big families, and thank the goddess, I now have one.

I'm reckless enough to believe that despite my crooked path, I'm embracing my next role as wise old crone. Older people can be quite brilliant if you can imagine the compounding interest of years of education, formal, on-the-job, and real life. The longer you're here, the more you learn.

Here's a new thing I learned yesterday.

As I listened to a podcast, a guest praised the host for double-clicking on something she said. I didn't know the term "double-clicking" meant to highlight and expand on- and I loved it. It's so on the nose! I repeated this new phrase to my daughter, who stood shaking her head.

"No, mom. That's corporate-speak. It's weird to repeat that kind of language outside of work." Oh well.

This counts as work, right?

3. My life is getting better with age, not worse.

Not everyone feels like things are getting better. Still, I say this knowing our current political situation, the decimation of the stock market, and my incorrect predictions of who would survive the final episode of The White Lotus.

Despite everything, or maybe because of it, I feel freer and more aligned with myself than ever before.

For decades, I lived in a cage of doing what was expected by my parents, church, and society. It wasn't until I left my marriage that all those factors became insignificant, and I realized I could finally be myself. I needed to lose something to gain myself—an excruciating but necessary exchange.

My fears have diminished as I've aged, which makes life richer. The most recent fear I gave up is the belief that I can't sing (you can read about it here). I continue my lessons and can hear my progress since I started in December. This willingness to learn something new despite fear connects to my desire for renewal and rebirth—you're never too old to begin again.

4. Aging is a privilege, and I'm happy to be here.

Anti-aging be damned. I'm pro-aging 100%. I know many people who would have been thrilled to still be here, alive, but they didn't get the chance. Almost 170,000 people die every day, and you and I were lucky enough to wake up this morning.

I am grateful for the good health I enjoy right now. My body is not guaranteed to stay this way, and I most likely won't be able to claim this robustness in ten or twenty years. But today, I'm here—breathing, learning, growing, making mistakes, and trying again.

Yoga helped me understand the impermanence of everything. A teacher once told me, "You will get old, you will get sick, and you will die." I carry those words with me, and they make me more aware of living my life now—because no one lives forever, no one is entitled to health forever, and the lesson that everything is temporary is ingrained in me in the good times and bad.

Yes, these things might sound trite, and you've heard them all before, but they are true for me at this moment. Anything could change at any moment, but for today, put away the rocking chair. I'm good. And that is enough.

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