The Language of the Soul

There is a force inside each of us that asks to be expressed. It does not care about your age, your talent, or your résumé. It cares only that you let it out.

We call it the creative impulse. It is the part of us that looks inward and projects outward, searching for meaning and fulfilment. It is why we share experiences, work together, build traditions, and dream. And no matter how old we are, we should never compromise a dream. We have them for a reason, perhaps to see into our own soul.

But what is a soul? Carl Jung described it as "partly in eternity and partly in time." Virginia Woolf, with her usual clarity, observed: "One can't write directly about the soul. Looked at, it vanishes." It defies substance and thought. Yet we have invented no greater expression of our inwardness than music.

Musician I know describe music as  the language of the soul, an eternal translation between mathematics and mystery. It is the deliberate arrangement of sound into patterns that move us. Birds sing the world back to life each spring. Cicadas serenade the sun each summer. And when we set out to tell the cosmos who we are, we sent whale songs, Bulgarian folk music, and Bach on a Golden Record. The best singers employ tone, interval, rhythm, theme, and variation in complex and pleasing combinations, but so does a grandmother humming to her grandchild. So does a retiree learning to play the piano for the first time. So does anyone who dares to make a sound that comes from the heart.

When you think about it, we have all been musicians at some point. We have all felt the rhythm of a good song, tapped our feet to a beat, or hummed along to a melody we could not shake. Music is one of the most accessible forms of creativity. It requires no special training to appreciate, and only a willingness to try. You do not need to perform on a stage. You just need to let the song inside you come out, even if it is only heard by you, or by a child sitting on your knee.

Here is something you can do this week, alone or with a grandchild.

Think of six songs that have mattered to you at different points in your life. They do not have to be "important" songs. They just have to be songs that you remember. Songs that take you back. Here is my list, I hope it helps you create your own list.

• Song 1: A song from your childhood: Nature Boy" by Nat King Cole
• Song 2: A song from your teenage years: California Dreamin' by The Mamas and the Papas
• Song 3: A song from your twenties:  American Pie - Don McLean
• Song 4: A song from your thirties: "Billie Jean" - Michael Jackson
• Song 5: A song from your forties: My Heart Will Go On" - Celine Dion
• Song 6: A song from your later years: Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67 by Beethoven  
• Song 7: A song that makes you feel hopeful about today: Ode to Joy (Symphony No. 9)  by Ludwig van Beethoven  and What a Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong

Now, do one of three things:

1. Write them down. Create a simple playlist on paper. Add a note next to each song about what it means to you.
2. Share them. Play them for a grandchild or a friend. Tell them why each song matters.
3. Expand the list. Make a full playlist on your phone or a streaming service. Or create a physical CD or USB drive with the songs and give it to someone you love.

Why does this matter? Because music is memory. When you share your songs, you are not just sharing music. You are sharing your story. And your grandchildren will remember not just the songs, but the fact that you trusted them with your history.

That is creativity. That is connection. That is the language of the soul.

Oxymorons

1.Why is the third hand on the watch called the second hand?

2. If a word is misspelled in the dictionary, how would we ever know?

3. If Webster wrote the first dictionary, where did he find the words?

4. Why do we say something is out of whack?   What is a whack?

5. Why does "slow down" and "slow up" mean the same thing?

6. Why does "fat chance" and "slim chance" mean the same thing?

7. Why do "tug" boats push their barges?

8. Why do we sing "Take me out to the ball game" when we are already there?

9. Why are they called "stands" when they are made for sitting?

10. Why is it called "after dark" when it really is "after light"?

11. Doesn't "expecting the unexpected" make the unexpected expected?

12. Why are a "wise man" and a "wise guy" opposites

13. Why do "overlook" and "oversee" mean opposite things?

14. Why is "phonetic" not spelled the way it sounds?

15. If work is so terrific, why do they have to pay you to do it?

16. If all the world is a stage, where is the audience sitting?

17. If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?

18. If you are cross-eyed and have dyslexia, can you read all right?

19. Why is bra singular and panties plural?

20. Why do you press harder on the buttons of a remote control when you know the batteries are dead?

21. Why do we put suits in garment bags and garments in a suitcase?

22. How come abbreviated is such a long word?

23. Why do we wash bath towels?  Aren't we clean when we use them?

24. Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?

25. Why do they call it a TV set when you only have one?

26. Then there is Christmas - What other time of the year do you sit in front of a dead tree and eat candy out of your socks?

27. Why do we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway?

Guys, Take Notes: What Many Men Can Learn from Women About Retirement

Every successful movie has people behind the scenes who quietly make everything work.

Sometimes they direct.

Sometimes they produce.

Sometimes they rewrite the script halfway through filming because the original story no longer fits.

Over the past several years, I've watched many women do exactly that with retirement.

And I think men have something to learn from them.

Before anyone writes me an email, let me be clear.

I'm speaking from my own experience.

I've worked with hundreds of retirees through workshops, community organizations, and volunteer boards. The pattern I've noticed isn't about every woman or every man. It's simply an observation that has made me think.

Many men spend years planning how they'll leave work.

Many women spend years planning what they'll do after work.

There's an important difference.

For many men, identity is closely tied to occupation.

We introduce ourselves by saying, "I'm an engineer."

"I'm a teacher."

"I'm a manager."

"I'm an electrician."

When retirement arrives, those titles disappear overnight.

Some men spend months trying to figure out who they are without the business card.

Many women, however, seem to have spent years building lives that include much more than work.

They have friendships that continue after retirement.

Volunteer roles.

Book clubs.

Fitness classes.

Community organizations.

Creative interests.

Family traditions.

Social networks.

Learning opportunities.

In many cases, retirement simply gives them more time to enjoy the lives they were already creating.

That's a lesson worth paying attention to.

Another difference I've noticed is the willingness to ask for help.

Many men are perfectly willing to rebuild a lawn mower without reading the instructions.

Unfortunately, some try approaching retirement the same way.

"We'll figure it out."

Sometimes we do.

Sometimes we spend six months reorganizing the garage because we haven't planned anything else.

Women, on the other hand, often attend retirement workshops, ask questions, compare ideas, share experiences, and build support networks.

That isn't weakness.

That's wisdom.

They understand that retirement isn't a solo performance.

It's an ensemble cast.

I've also noticed that many women continue learning long after retirement.

Computers.

Languages.

Painting.

Photography.

Fitness.

Gardening.

History.

Community leadership.

Curiosity keeps showing up in their calendars.

Retirement isn't a graduation ceremony.

It's another semester.

Perhaps the biggest lesson is purpose.

The happiest retirees I've met aren't necessarily the wealthiest.

They're the ones who wake up knowing someone needs them, somewhere wants them, or something excites them.

Purpose keeps us moving.

Purpose gets us out of bed.

Purpose reminds us that our best contributions aren't measured by a paycheque.

Men can absolutely build that kind of retirement.

In fact, many do.

But it rarely happens by accident.

Just as we plan financially, we need to plan socially, emotionally, physically, and intellectually.

We need friends who know us outside the workplace.

We need hobbies that challenge us.

We need places where our experience matters.

Most of all, we need to remember that retirement isn't about stopping.

It's about redirecting decades of knowledge toward new adventures.

So perhaps the greatest compliment I can give the women I've worked with is this:

Thank you.

Thank you for showing many of us that retirement can be active, curious, courageous, generous, and joyful.

You didn't simply accept the old script.

You proved there was a better one.

Now it's our turn to write the next chapter.

Question: Whether you're a man or a woman, what is one lesson you've learned from someone else's retirement that has changed how you're planning your own?

Retirement's Leading Ladies: The Women Who Rewrote the Script

If retirement were a Hollywood movie, many people would expect it to follow an old screenplay.

The leading character works until 65, retires quietly, buys a comfortable chair, spends afternoons watching television, and slowly fades into the background while the younger cast takes over.

Fortunately, a generation of women looked at that script, laughed, tore it into little pieces, and wrote a much better ending.

During my working years, I had the privilege of working alongside many remarkable women. They challenged ideas, questioned authority, solved problems, took risks, and never stopped learning. They made me a better educator, a better leader, and, I believe, a better man.

Now that I am retired, I continue to see that same spirit.

I've organized countless workshops on retirement, healthy aging, and community issues. More often than not, the room is filled with women. When I serve on volunteer boards, women usually make up the majority of members. They are organizing events, raising money, mentoring others, learning new skills, advocating for change, and asking one important question:

"What's next?"

That's not the behaviour of people winding down.

That's the behaviour of people beginning another exciting chapter.

Ask many women in their sixties, seventies, or eighties what they refuse to do anymore, and you'll often receive an answer without much hesitation.

"I won't pretend."

"I won't apologize."

"I won't make myself invisible."

"I won't let someone else decide how I should grow older."

It reminds me of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. Once she realizes she's in a strange new world, she doesn't spend the rest of the movie apologizing for arriving. She gathers companions, faces challenges, learns along the way, and follows the Yellow Brick Road toward a future she cannot yet see.

Retirement can feel very much like that road.

You don't always know exactly where it leads.

You simply keep walking.

Many women in the Baby Boomer generation spent decades preparing for this stage without realizing it.

Many balanced careers while raising children.

Some returned to school later in life.

Many managed households while working full-time.

Some survived divorce and rebuilt their financial lives from scratch.

Others became caregivers for parents while still supporting children.

Life became an incredible training ground for retirement.

They learned resilience.

They learned independence.

They learned that when life changes, you adjust the plan instead of giving up on the journey.

Today's retirees also recognize something earlier generations often didn't.

At 65, many people still have twenty or thirty productive years ahead of them.

That's far too much life to spend sitting on the sidelines.

Instead of seeing retirement as an ending, many women see it as freedom.

Freedom to volunteer.

Freedom to travel.

Freedom to learn.

Freedom to advocate for causes they believe in.

Freedom simply to become more fully themselves.

One change I've noticed is that many women no longer feel obligated to stay silent.

Previous generations often accepted being overlooked as simply part of growing older.

Today's women are far more likely to speak up when they experience ageism, unfair treatment, or barriers that limit opportunity.

They have spent decades finding their voices.

Retirement hasn't silenced them.

If anything, it has amplified them.

Of course, every retirement story is unique. Health, finances, family circumstances, and personal preferences all shape the journey. Some women choose quieter lives, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

The important point is choice.

This generation has earned the opportunity to choose what retirement looks like instead of accepting someone else's outdated script.

Perhaps that's the greatest lesson of all.

Boomer women aren't refusing to age.

They're refusing to let age define what they're still capable of becoming.

And I have a feeling the sequel is going to be even better than the original.

Question: If retirement gives you the chance to rewrite your own script, what role would you like to play in the next chapter of your life?