Post One: Turning 80 – A Milestone or Just Another Year?

Next year I’ll be turning 80, as will many of my close friends. It’s a milestone that gives me pause , not because I feel “old,” but because it feels like the right moment to look back, look around, and look forward. Over the next two posts, I’d like to share some reflections on reaching 80 , thoughts for my friends who are walking this path with me, and for my children and grandchildren who are still writing the earlier chapters of their lives.

“Find something more important than you are,” philosopher Dan Dennett once advised, “and dedicate your life to it.” That’s solid advice for the young , but it’s also a compass for those of us reaching the later chapters of life.

Next year, I’ll be turning 80, as will many of my close friends. It’s a number that can feel like both a milestone and just another birthday, depending on how you look at it. Henry Miller, the writer, put it beautifully in his essays on turning 80. He suggested that if, at eighty, you can still walk with ease, enjoy a hearty meal, sleep without pills, and find joy in birdsong, flowers, mountains, and seas, then you are truly fortunate. That kind of gratitude, he said, should move you to your knees morning and night.

I’ve found that to be true. Aging doesn’t take away wonder; if anything, it sharpens it. When I spend time with friends my age who remain lively, curious, and creative, I’m struck by how young they still are in spirit. By contrast, I sometimes notice that the truly “old” people aren’t necessarily the ones with gray hair , they’re the middle-aged folks stuck in their routines, afraid of change, and retreating into their mental bomb shelters.

Another realization that’s come with time: people don’t really change in their basic character. Success doesn’t transform us; it often magnifies our faults. The clever classmates of our youth aren’t always as impressive once life tests them. The people we clashed with back then are often the same people we still struggle with, no matter what title they’ve acquired. Life can teach lessons, yes, but growth is never guaranteed.

One of the humbling parts of getting older is watching our children and grandchildren make the same mistakes we once did. We see them stumble, sometimes painfully, and recognize the echoes of our own past missteps. And yet, that reflection softens us. In their struggles, we’re reminded of the foolishness we carried in our younger days , and maybe still do in some form.

Despite this, or perhaps because of it, I find myself far more cheerful at 80 than I ever was at 20 or 30. I wouldn’t trade places with my teenage self for anything. Youth may be glorious, but it can also be exhausting and uncertain. For me, real vitality didn’t arrive until my forties, when I was finally ready to embrace it. Picasso once joked that “one starts to get young at the age of sixty, and then it’s too late.” I’d say my sixties and seventies were full of joy, curiosity, and a sense of renewal. And as I approach 80, that curiosity and wonder remain intact.

Perhaps that’s the secret: to stay curious, to find beauty, and to keep laughing. Because if there’s one gift of age, it’s learning not to take life , or yourself , too seriously.

To my friends who are sharing this journey with me: I raise a toast to us all. We’ve seen so much, learned so much, and still have the curiosity and humor to keep going. May our 80th year be full of laughter, adventure, and the joy of discovering that the best parts of life don’t have an expiration date.