If I Get This Right, Will Life Get Smaller?

As we age, we’re often reminded, sometimes gently, sometimes loudly, of the risks we face: falling, cognitive decline, chronic health conditions. Cautious, “prudent” behaviour is presented as the responsible response. Sensible advice, yes, but it can also raise an unspoken question: if I get this right, will life get smaller?

At lunch the other day, one of the guys announced he’d done a full “nose plant.” When I asked what happened, he said he was walking from his car into a store during heavy rain, misjudged the height of the curb, caught his foot, and went down. A few bruises, nothing serious, but, as he put it, a much larger bruise to his ego.

My wife and I often laugh at a local TV commercial for stair lifts. After a sobering montage about falls, the ad closes with the line, “We have a solution for that. Just don’t fall.”  We laugh, even though the message underneath is serious. It suggests that the safest life is the smallest one.

A friend told me his doctor advised that anyone over 65 should never climb a ladder. In theory, it’s good advice. In practice, it’s unworkable. A more realistic approach is using ladders wisely: have someone steady it, climb slowly, avoid the top rung, don’t overreach. Prudence doesn’t have to mean withdrawal.

By that same logic, someone might tell my friend who tripped at the curb, “Just don’t catch your toes,” or better yet, “Don’t go out in the rain.” But if we followed every fear-based instruction, we’d soon be living very carefully, and very quietly.

That’s the real worry behind being sensible. Not the bruises or the risks, but the fear that doing things “right” means doing less, seeing less, trying less. Yet life has never been about eliminating risk. It’s about adjusting how we move through it

Getting it right doesn’t have to mean life gets smaller. It can mean life becomes more intentional, slower, yes, and more deliberate, but still curious, still engaged, still willing to step out into the rain. The real work isn’t avoiding risk; it’s learning which risks are worth taking and which fears are quietly shrinking us without our consent. And that raises the next question: once we stop letting fear set the limits, how do we decide what “enough” looks like, and who gets to define it?