A Senior's Guide to Being Wrong (Gracefully)

Let me start with something that still amazes me after nearly eighty years.

The human brain has remained virtually unchanged for the past hundred thousand years. The same brain that lived in caves, painted on walls, and huddled around fires is the same brain sitting in your skull right now. The same fears. The same hopes. The same tendency to leap to conclusions that are completely, spectacularly wrong.

How humbling is that?

Your ancestors looked at a rustling bush and assumed a tiger. Sometimes they were right. Sometimes it was the wind. But the ones who assumed tiger and ran lived to tell the tale. The ones who assumed wind sometimes did not.

We inherited that brain. And we still use it. Except now, the rustling bush is not a tiger. It is a friend who did not return our call. A neighbour who looked at us funny. A family member who said something that stung. And our ancient tiger brain says, "They hate you. They never cared. This is the end of the world."

Spoiler: It is almost always the wind.

Here is a truth I have learned the hard way, over and over, across eight decades.

When we are hurt in a relationship, when we are spinning in confusion, trying to figure out why someone did what they did, the explanation we choose usually has more to do with our own fears and vulnerabilities than it does with reality.

We think they are angry at us. Actually, they just had a bad day.
We think they are ignoring us. Actually, they never saw the message.
We think they meant to hurt us. Actually, they were hurting themselves and we happened to be standing there.

Almost always, the true explanation has nothing to do with us. It has to do with the fears and vulnerabilities roiling in the other person, invisibly to us.

That is not an excuse for bad behaviour. It is an invitation to stop making everything about us.

Here is the uncomfortable truth. We do not live in reality. We live in the stories we tell ourselves about reality.

We are sensemaking creatures. We cannot help it. Something happens, and our brain immediately constructs a story about what happened and why. The problem is that these stories are at best incomplete and at worst injuriously incorrect.

And the cost of our wrong stories? Connection. Trust. Love.

How many friendships have you seen end over a misunderstanding that could have been cleared up with one honest conversation? How many families have been split apart by a story someone told themselves and refused to let go of?

I have seen it. You have seen it. Maybe we have even done it.

The great Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh said something that stopped me in my tracks. He said that much of our suffering comes from wrong perceptions. Not from what actually happened. From what we think happened.

And the only way to remove the hurt is to remove the wrong perception.

That is not about being weak. That is not about letting people off the hook. That is about caring for yourself. Why would you choose to carry a hurt that is based on something that might not even be true?

You would not. Not if you thought about it. But we do not think about it. We just feel it. And then we act on it. And then we make everything worse.

Here is a simple practice that has saved me more times than I can count. The next time you feel hurt by someone, try these three things.

First, acknowledge internally that the picture you have in your head may not be accurate.

Just say it to yourself. "I think they meant to hurt me. But I could be wrong." That tiny crack of doubt is where healing begins.

Second, when you are ready, go to the person—not with an accusation, but with a request for help.

Instead of saying, "Why did you ignore me?" try saying, "I am feeling hurt, and I know my hurt may come from my own wrong perception. Can you help me understand what happened?"

That is not weakness. That is courage. That is the courage to be wrong.

Third—and this is the hardest part—listen. Really listen. Not to prepare your defense. Not to plan your counterattack. Listen to understand.

The other person may have a story you have not considered. It may be true. It may not be. But you will never know if you do not listen.

Here is why I am sharing this with you.

Younger people are watching us. They are watching how we handle conflict. How we apologize. How we admit we were wrong. How we reach across divides and rebuild bridges.

And right now, the world is full of people who have decided that their story is the only story. That their hurt is the only hurt that matters. That the other side is evil and cannot be listened to.

You and I have lived long enough to know better. We have been wrong before. We have apologized before. We have been forgiven before. We have seen relationships restored by nothing more than a willingness to say, "I may have misunderstood. Help me understand."

That is leadership. That is being a role model. That is showing the next generation that growth comes from change, and happiness comes from acceptance, and merrily, we are built to do both at once.

Here is the thing about being eighty. I have been wrong so many times that I might as well get good at admitting it.

I have been wrong about people I loved. Wrong about situations I was sure I understood. Wrong about why my wife was upset (spoiler: it was almost never what I thought). Wrong about why my children did what they did.

And every single time, when I finally stopped defending my wrong perception and started listening, something shifted. The hurt diminished. The connection restored. The love came back.

Not because I was right. Because I was willing to be wrong.

That is the gift of age. Not certainty. Humility. Not the last word. The courage to ask for help.

So here is my challenge to you. The next time you feel hurt, pause. Ask yourself: Could my story be wrong?

And then, if you are brave enough, go find out.

You might be surprised. You might be relieved. You might just save a relationship that matters more than being right.

And the younger people watching? They will learn something too.

They will learn that being a grown-up is not about having all the answers.

It is about being willing to ask the questions.

Once Upon a Time: Why Seniors Need Fairy Tales Again

Let me ask you something. When was the last time you read a fairy tale?

Not to a grandchild. Not as a favour. For yourself.

If you are like most seniors, it has been decades. We put away fairy tales somewhere around the time we put away dollhouses and toy trucks. We decided they were for children. We decided we had outgrown them.

But here is what I have learned after nearly eighty years. We did not outgrow fairy tales. We just forgot why we needed them.

Fairy tales were not invented to entertain children at bedtime. They were told and handed down from generation to generation because they contained lessons that people needed to learn to survive in an increasingly hostile world.

Think about it.

Little Red Riding Hood taught children not to trust smooth-talking strangers.
Hansel and Gretel taught them that even seemingly kind people could have dangerous intentions.
The Three Little Pigs taught that doing things right the first time, brick, not straw, could save your life.

These were not gentle stories. In their original forms, they were terrifying. And they were supposed to be. Because the world was terrifying, and children needed to know how to navigate it.

We are adults now. We think we do not need such warnings. But the world is still hostile. The strangers are still smooth-talking. The wolves are still at the door. And we, perhaps, have forgotten how to recognize them.

There is a famous story about Albert Einstein. A mother asked him how to make her son more intelligent. She expected him to say something about mathematics or physics.

Instead, he said, "Read him fairy tales. If you want him to be very intelligent, read him more fairy tales."

Einstein understood something that we have forgotten. Fairy tales are not the opposite of science. They are its companion. Alongside physics and poetry, they are our best instruments for discerning the rules of reality and building from them models of what is possible.

Physics tells you how the world works. Fairy tales tell you how to live in it.

The Italian writer Cristina Campo wrote something that has stayed with me. She said that hope and trust are different things, and confusing them can be dangerous.

Hope is counting on a lucky break. Hope is thinking that this time, things will work out because you deserve them to. Hope is fragile. It depends on particular events going your way.

Trust is different. Trust does not count on particular events. Trust is sure that there is a larger pattern, a deeper economy, which encompasses everything that happens, the good and the bad, and surpasses their meaning the way a tapestry surpasses the individual threads that compose it.

The hero of a fairy tale does not hope. The hero trusts. They trust that if they follow the path, if they pay attention, if they are kind to the strange old woman who asks for help, something will come of it. They do not know what. They do not know when. But they trust.

That is what we have lost. Not hope. Trust.

Here is the thing about fairy tales that we forget as adults. The hero is always asked to do the impossible.

Find the golden thread in the dark forest.
Answer the riddle before the sun rises.
Awaken the sleeping princess with nothing but a kiss.

And here is the secret. The hero succeeds not by being stronger, smarter, or luckier. The hero succeeds by forgetting their limits when contending with the impossible, and paying constant attention to those same limits when performing it.

That is not a contradiction. That is wisdom.

When you are facing the impossible, a diagnosis, a loss, a change you never wanted, you must forget your limits. You must act as if you are capable of more than you think you are.

But you must also pay attention to your limits. You must rest when you are tired. You must ask for help when you need it. You must know that the impossible is achieved one small step at a time.

Fairy tales teach this. We forgot.

Here is something that sounds strange, but I believe is true. Adversity, challenges, and bumps in the road are often the first signs that a great healing has begun.

Think about a fever. It is uncomfortable. It is scary. But it is also the body's way of burning out an infection. The discomfort is not the problem. It is the solution.

The same is true for the hard things in life. The job loss that forces you to finally pursue what you love. The illness that teaches you to slow down. The death that reminds you to cherish the people who are still here.

Fairy tales understand this. The hero does not defeat the dragon and then live happily ever after without scars. The hero defeats the dragon and is changed. Wiser. Kinder. More capable of seeing what matters.

We want the victory without the transformation. Fairy tales know that is not possible.

Here is a final thought to carry with you.

Everything you treasure exists not because it had to. Not because it was likely or necessary. But because the universe took a gamble against staggering odds.

You are here. Against all odds, you are here.

The love you have known. The children you raised. The friends who have stayed. The sunrises you have watched. The meals you have shared. None of it was guaranteed. All of it was improbable.

And yet here it is. Here you are.

Fairy tales remind us of this. They remind us that possibility always exceeds probability. That the wildest reaches of the possible are not found in spreadsheets or statistics but in stories. Stories about girls who sleep for a hundred years and wake to love. About boys who trade a cow for magic beans and find a giant's treasure. About ordinary people who, when faced with the impossible, find within themselves the trust to walk forward anyway.

This week, read a fairy tale. Not to a grandchild. To yourself.

Read The Snow Queen. Read The Twelve Dancing Princesses. Read the story of Baba Yaga or Vasilisa the Wise. Read something that reminds you that the world is stranger and more possible than the news would have you believe.

And when you finish, ask yourself: What impossible thing am I being asked to trust right now?

You may not have an answer. That is fine. The hero never knows at the beginning either.

But the path is there. The thread is there. And you, like every hero before you, have everything you need to find it.

Once upon a time are not just words for children.

They are the oldest, wisest, most hopeful words we have.

And we need them now more than ever.

When the Circle Grows Smaller: A Guide to Dancing Anyway

 Let me tell you something we do not talk about enough.

As we age, our circle grows smaller. It is just true. The phone rings less often. The holiday card list shrinks. The chairs around the table that used to be full now have empty spaces where laughter used to sit.

And if you are like me, you have started attending a different kind of gathering. Celebrations of life. Memorials. Whatever name we give them, they are the same thing. A room full of people who all loved the same person, standing around trying to remember the good jokes and pretending not to notice the empty chair at the front.

It is hard. Anyone who tells you otherwise has not lived long enough.

But here is what I have learned after nearly eight decades of watching people come and go. Death is not the opposite of living. It is part of living. And if we spend all our time mourning the circle growing smaller, we miss the chance to love the people who are still in it.

Here is a strange truth. You already know how to heal. You already know how to rebound, restore, and prevail. It is not something you need to learn. It is something you need to remember.

Think about it. Every time you have fallen, you have gotten back up. Every time you have lost someone, you have kept going. Not because you are special. Because you are human, and humans are built to survive loss. It is stitched into us like the hem on a favourite coat.

The problem is that we forget. We get so caught up in the pain of the moment that we cannot see past it. We think the grief will last forever because it feels like it will last forever.

But it does not. It softens. It changes. It becomes something you carry rather than something that carries you.

And that is not a betrayal of the person you lost. That is exactly what they would want.

Here is where we get ourselves into trouble.

We let the wrong things define us. Our spouse. Our best friend. Our health. Our ability to drive. Our garden. Our weekly coffee group. All of it precious. All of it dear. And all of it, eventually, subject to change.

The problem is not that we love these things. The problem is that we allow them to become the walls of our identity instead of just the furniture inside.

When your spouse of fifty years dies, you do not just lose a person. You lose the person who knew you best. The one who remembered your stories because they were in them. The one who laughed at your jokes because they heard them first. The one who defined you, in part, simply by being there.

And that loss is real. It is sometimes unbearable. It is the kind of pain that makes you want to crawl into a cave and never come out.

But here is what I want you to hear. You are not just half of a couple. You are not just someone's spouse or someone's parent or someone's friend. You are you. And you are still here.

The love does not disappear. It just changes shape.

Spirit Will Emerge. And So Will Your Wings.

I love that phrase. I am going to say it again.

Let logic stand aside. Have no fear. Spirit will emerge. And so will your wings.

Logic tells you that when your circle grows smaller, you should be sad. Logic tells you that when you lose someone you love, you should grieve forever. Logic tells you that the empty chair will always be empty.

But spirit tells you something else. Spirit tells you that the love you shared is still with you. Spirit tells you that you are allowed to laugh again. Spirit tells you that the best way to honour someone who died is to keep living.

And your wings? Your wings are the things you still have. The friends who are still here. The grandchildren who need your stories. The garden that needs tending. The volunteer shift that needs filling. The coffee that still tastes good in the morning.

You do not need to figure out how to fly. You just need to remember that you already have wings.

I am going to say something that might sound strange. I have started to see Celebrations of Life differently.

Yes, they are sad. Yes, I would rather have the person back. But here is what else they are. They are reunions. They are history lessons. They are the only time you will hear your cousin tell the story about the time your uncle tried to fix the roof and fell into the rose bushes.

They are also a reminder. A reminder that you are still here. That the circle, though smaller, still holds. That the people in that room love you and are glad you came.

So, go. Eat the finger sandwiches. Tell the embarrassing stories. Cry if you need to. Laugh when you can. And when you leave, take a moment to be grateful that you got to be there at all.

Not everyone does.

Here is something the young people in your life do not know yet. They think death is something that happens to other people. They think they have all the time in the world. They think the circle will always be full.

You know better. And you can teach them.

Not by lecturing. By example.

When they see you grieve and keep going, they learn resilience.
When they see you laugh at a funeral, they learn that joy and sorrow can coexist.
When they see you show up, week after week, even when it is hard, they learn what it means to be an adult.

You are not just living your life. You are teaching them how to live theirs.

I know that look. The one you have right now. The one that says, "Royce, this is all very nice, but you do not know how much it hurts."

You are right. I do not know your specific pain. I have my own, and I suspect you have yours.

But here is what I do know. You deserve to be happy. Not someday. Not when the grief passes. Now. Always.

Not because the loss is not real. Because the love is also real. And love, when you let it, has a funny way of outlasting everything else.

So go ahead. Feel sad when you need to. Mope when you must. But do not build a house there.

Because your wings are waiting. And there is still so much to waltz for.

Love that look on your face right now. You deserve to be happy. Always.

Rainbows, Clydesdales, and the Art of Being a Delightfully Unpredictable Senior

Let me tell you something that took me nearly eighty years to figure out.

Life is not a spreadsheet. It is not a carefully calibrated plan that you execute flawlessly until you run out of time. If it were, we would all be bored out of our ever-loving minds.

No, life is a surprise machine. And surprises are life's ultimate way of gently, or sometimes not so gently, tapping you on the shoulder and saying, "Wake up, sleepyhead. You're missing the show."

Here is the trouble with us sensible seniors. We have learned things. We have survived things. We have accumulated wisdom like squirrels accumulate nuts, and we are rightly proud of our stash.

But sometimes that wisdom becomes a cage.

We know what we like. We know what we do not like. We know what works and what does not work. And somewhere along the way, we stop asking new questions because we already have all the answers.

But here is the thing about answers. They are just old questions that fell asleep.

And when we stop asking new questions, we stop growing. We stop transforming. We become monuments to ourselves, and monuments are lovely to visit, but they do not dance, they do not laugh, and they certainly do not try kale for the first time at age seventy-eight. (I did not like it, but I will try it again in 10 years,)

Let me explain the phrase "Rainbows and Clydesdales."

A rainbow is a surprise. You do not schedule it. You do not earn it. You are just going about your rainy day, feeling a bit glum, and suddenly the sun breaks through and there it is, a ridiculous, glorious, impossible arc of colour painted across the sky. It asks nothing of you except that you look up and say, "Oh."

A Clydesdale, on the other hand, is a different kind of surprise. Have you ever seen one up close? They are enormous. They are magnificent. They are the gentle giants of the horse world. And if you are lucky enough to encounter one, maybe at a fair, maybe pulling a wagon full of tourists, maybe just standing in a field looking impossibly large, you cannot help but feel a little bit smaller and a little bit wonder-full at the same time.

Neither rainbows nor Clydesdales care about your schedule. Neither asks for your opinion. Neither requires a committee meeting.

They just show up. And they make you feel alive.

That is what I mean by thinking outside the box. Not because outside the box is smarter. Because outside the box is where the rainbows and Clydesdales live.

Here is my challenge to you. Starting tomorrow morning, do one thing a day that surprises someone. Especially yourself.

Not big things. You do not need to take up skydiving or learn to play the bagpipes (please do not learn to play the bagpipes unless you live very far from other humans).

Small things.

• Put a rubber chicken on the kitchen table. Leave it there. Say nothing.
• Call your adult child and leave a voicemail that is just you humming the Jeopardy theme song.
• Wear one purple sock and one green sock. Act like you do not notice.
• Put a funny sticker on your walker. A googly eye on your cane. A tiny plastic flamingo in your houseplant.

These are not ridiculous acts. These are acts of rebellion. They are you reminding yourself that you are not a monument. You are a living, breathing, surprising human being who still has the capacity to delight.

And here is the best part. When you do something surprising, you force everyone around you to ask a new question.

Why is there a rubber chicken on the table?
Did Dad just hum the Jeopardy theme song?
Is he really wearing mismatched socks, or is this a test?

Those questions wake people up. They shake them out of their own deep sleep. And before you know it, you are not just a senior. You are a leader. You are a role model. You are the person who reminded everyone that life is allowed to be fun.

A few years ago, I decided to wear a Hawaiian shirt to a formal board meeting. Not aggressively formal, but the kind of meeting where people wear collared shirts and use words like "strategic alignment."

I walked in. People stared. No one said anything.

Halfway through the meeting, the treasurer, a lovely woman, looked at me and said, "Royce, is that a palm tree on your shirt?"

I said, "It is. I am conducting a strategic alignment of tropical vibes."

She laughed. The whole room laughed. And the meeting was better for it. People loosened up. Ideas flowed. We got more done in that hour than in the previous two meetings combined.

All because of a stupid shirt.

That is the power of thinking differently. It is not about being smarter. It is about being looser. It is about giving yourself permission to be a little ridiculous so that the people around you give themselves permission to be a little human.

Here is a truth that might surprise you. The young people in your life are not looking for you to have all the answers. They have Google for that.

What they are looking for is permission. Permission to be uncertain. Permission to try things and fail. Permission to laugh in the middle of hard times. Permission to wear mismatched socks and put rubber chickens on tables.

And you can give them that permission simply by doing it yourself.

When you act like a monument, you tell them that life is serious and mistakes are not allowed and joy is for children.

When you act like a rainbow or a Clydesdale, unexpected, glorious, a little ridiculous, you tell them that life is allowed to be strange and wonderful and that growing older does not mean growing stiff.

Which message do you want to send?

So here is my challenge to you for this week.

Find one rainbow. Real or metaphorical. A splash of unexpected colour in an otherwise grey day.

Find one Clydesdale. Something so unexpectedly magnificent that it makes you feel small and wonder-full at the same time.

And then find one small, surprising thing that you can do to wake someone else up.

Not because you have to. Because you get to.

Because you are a senior. You have earned the right to be eccentric. You have earned the right to be surprising. You have earned the right to put a rubber chicken on the table and dare anyone to say a word about it.

Now go forth and be delightfully unpredictable.

The world needs more rainbows. And Clydesdales. And seniors in Hawaiian shirts.

That is your legacy. Not what you accumulated. What you awakened.

The Artist in All of Us: Why This Time Is Not Our Undoing

I know it is easy to look around right now and feel the world coming apart. The news is relentless. The arguments never end. The ground that felt solid yesterday seems to shift beneath us today. And if you are over sixty, you have seen versions of this before, different details, same unease.

But here is what I want you to hear, especially if cynicism has become your blanket or depression your unwanted companion.

You are not a sinking ship. You are a swimming rat.

Let me explain.

Chaos Is Not the End. It Is the Beginning of Something New.

Think about ice. Solid. Predictable. You know exactly what it will do.

Now add heat. The ice cracks. It softens. It becomes something else entirely. For a moment, it looks like it is falling apart. But that chaos is not destruction. It is transformation. The ice is becoming water, and water can flow where ice never could.

We are living in that messy middle. The old ways are melting. The new ways have not fully arrived. And yes, it is uncomfortable. But here is the truth the cynics forget: every stable thing you have ever loved was once chaos being shaped into order.

The peace you enjoy. The rights you hold. The community you cherish. None of it appeared fully formed. It was built by people who refused to believe that the mess was the end of the story.

When the world feels unstable, we tend to look for engineers people who will bolt things down and make them rigid again. But that is not what holds a civilization together.

What holds us together is the creative spirit.

The artist. The storyteller. The gardener who plants seeds in broken soil. The grandparent who tells a child, "I have seen worse, and we got through it." The volunteer who notices an empty chair and makes a phone call. The neighbour who bakes bread and shares it.

These are artists too. They are making something where nothing was. They are imposing order on chaos with the simplest tools: attention, care, and the stubborn belief that beauty still matters.

Toni Morrison once said that this is precisely the time when artists go to work. Not when things are calm. When they are falling apart. Because art clarifies. Art nourishes. Art reminds us that we are still here, still thinking, still feeling, still capable of imagining something better.

Here is what the depressed mind forgets. You cannot control the news. You cannot control the economy or the politicians or the algorithms. But you can control:

·         Whether you get out of bed this morning

·         Whether you call someone who might be lonely

·         Whether you write down one thought that matters to you

·         Whether you plant something, fix something, or simply show up somewhere

Those small acts are not trivial. They are the bubbles being blown in the chaos. They are the webs being spun. They are the lighthouses sweeping the thankless seas.

And they matter more than you know.

Younger people are looking at this moment with fresh eyes. Many of them have never seen instability like this. They are frightened. They are angry. They are looking for someone who has been through a hard season and come out the other side.

That someone is you.

You have lived through recessions. You have lived through wars and threats of war. You have lost people you loved. You have rebuilt. You have adapted. You have learned that the sun rises even after the darkest night.

You do not need to be a professional artist to be an artist of living. Every time you choose hope over despair, you are creating something. Every time you refuse to pass your cynicism to a younger person, you are legislating a better future. Every time you show up to a coffee, to a board meeting, to a grandchild's recital you are building a vantage ground in the chaos.

The writer E.M. Forster once said that when the ships are sinking, he would rather be a swimming rat than a sinking ship. It is not dignified, perhaps. But you can look around longer. You can see things the officials missed. And you can find other rats swimming beside you, hearing each other's calls through the impenetrable wood.

That is what we are. Not dignified. Not certain. Not in control of the whole storm.

But swimming. Looking. Calling out to one another.

And that is enough. That has always been enough.

So, this week, make something. A meal. A phone call. A garden. A joke. A quiet hour of sitting still and breathing. It does not have to be grand. It just has to be yours.

Because the world does not need more cynics. It has plenty.

It needs the artist in you.

And that artist is still very much alive.

The future will surprise us. It will challenge us.

 It’s a funny thing about time, it doesn’t just move forward, it rushes.

Back in 2015, we were already shaking our heads at how fast things were changing. Today? It feels like we blinked, and the world rewrote itself again.

Think about it for a moment.

The internet, which began quietly in 1991, has now become the backbone of daily life. Google isn’t just a search engine; it’s how we think, find, and decide. YouTube and Twitter (now rebranded as X) helped start the social media wave, but today we’re just as likely to be scrolling, streaming, or sharing on platforms that didn’t even exist a decade ago.

And the biggest twist? We’re now talking to machines.

Artificial intelligence writes, answers, creates images, plans trips, and even helps families stay connected. Voice assistants, smart homes, wearable health trackers, technology isn’t just something we use anymore; it quietly works alongside us.

Remember when a phone was just a phone? Try finding one now. It’s your camera, your calendar, your map, your newspaper, your doctor’s reminder system, and sometimes your lifeline.

Even the idea of “going online” feels outdated, because we’re always connected.

Television? That old battle is over. Streaming didn’t just win; it took over completely. We watch what we want, when we want, wherever we are. Cable feels like a relic, something we explain to grandchildren the way our grandparents explained radio dramas.

Work has changed, too. Retirement itself has changed. Pensions aren’t as certain, and more people are building flexible lives, consulting, volunteering, creating, and contributing in new ways well into their later years.

And here’s the truth: as much as things feel uncertain, this isn’t the first time people have felt this way.

Let’s step back to 1925.

Picture it.

A world just recovering from World War I, stepping into what many called the “Roaring Twenties.” Jazz music fills the air. Cars are becoming more common, though still a luxury for many. Cities are growing, and electricity is spreading, but not everywhere.

Here’s a snapshot of life in 1925:

The average life expectancy was still under 60 years.
Many homes, especially in rural areas, still didn’t have indoor plumbing or electricity.
Radios were the new “must-have” technology, bringing news and entertainment into the home for the first time. Families gathered around them the way we gather around screens today.
Cars were becoming popular, but roads were rough, and long-distance travel was still an adventure.
Most women did not work outside the home, although that was slowly beginning to change.
Medical care was improving, but antibiotics like penicillin were not yet widely available. A simple infection could still be life-threatening.
Education was growing, but high school graduation was far from the norm.
And yes, people were already saying, “The world is changing too fast.”

Sound familiar?

Every generation stands in the middle of change and feels like it’s the most dramatic moment in history. And in a way, they’re all right.

But here’s the comforting part of the story.

People in 1925 adapted.
People in 2015 adapted.
And here we are, doing the same.

We learn the new tools. We shake our heads at the pace. We laugh a little at ourselves. And then, slowly, we make it part of our lives.

So, when we wonder what the world will look like in another 100 years, whether artificial intelligence will run everything, whether homes will think for us, whether travel will take minutes instead of hours, the honest answer is the same as it was back then:

We don’t know.

But we do know this.

The future will surprise us.
It will challenge us.
And just like every generation before us, we’ll find a way to live in it, shape it, and maybe even enjoy it.

Because in the end, it’s not just technology that defines an era.

It’s people, curious, adaptable, and always ready for the next chapter.

Things your mother should have told you

I saw this on FaceBook it was posted by Kristie Sutton and I thought it was interesting.

1. Take your bananas apart when you get home from the store. If you leave them connected at the stem, they ripen faster.

2. Store your opened chunks of cheese in aluminum foil. It will stay fresh much longer and not mould!

3. Peppers with 3 bumps on the bottom are sweeter and better for eating. Peppers with 4 bumps on the bottom are firmer and better for cooking.

4. Add a teaspoon of water when frying ground beef. It will help pull the grease away from the meat while cooking.

5. To really make scrambled eggs or omelets rich add a couple of spoonfuls of sour cream, cream cheese, or heavy cream in and then beat them up.

6. For a cool brownie treat, make brownies as directed. Melt Andes mints in a double broiler and pour over warm brownies. Let set for a wonderful minty frosting.

7. Add garlic immediately to a recipe if you want a light taste of garlic and at the end of the recipe if your want a stronger taste of garlic.

8. Leftover Snickers bars from Halloween make a delicious dessert. Simply chop them up with the food chopper. Peel, core and slice a few apples. Place them in a baking dish and sprinkle the chopped candy bars over the apples. Bake at 350 for 15 minutes!!! Serve alone or with vanilla ice cream. Yummm!

9. Reheat Pizza

Heat up leftover pizza in a nonstick skillet on top of the stove, set heat to med-low and heat till warm. This keeps the crust crispy. No soggy micro pizza. I saw this on the cooking channel and it really works.

10. Easy Deviled Eggs

Put cooked egg yolks in a zip-lock bag. Seal, and mash till they are all broken up. Add remainder of ingredients, reseal, keep mashing it up mixing thoroughly, cut the tip of the baggy, and squeeze mixture into egg. Just throw the bag away when done with easy cleanup.

11. Expanding Frosting

When you buy a container of cake frosting from the store, whip it with your mixer for a few minutes. You can double it in size. You get to frost more cake/cupcakes with the same amount. You also eat less sugar and calories per serving.

12. Reheating refrigerated bread

To warm biscuits, pancakes, or muffins that were refrigerated, place them in a microwave with a cup of water. The increased moisture will keep the food moist and help it reheat faster.

13. Newspaper weeds away

Start putting in your plants, work the nutrients in your soil. Wet newspapers, put layers around the plants overlapping as you go. Cover with mulch and forget about weeds. Weeds will get through some gardening plastic they will not get through wet newspapers.

14. Broken Glass

Use a wet cotton ball or Q-tip to pick up the small shards of glass you can't see easily.

15. No More Mosquitoes

Place a dryer sheet in your pocket. It will keep the mosquitoes away.

16. Squirrel Away!

To keep squirrels from eating your plants, sprinkle your plants with cayenne pepper. The cayenne pepper doesn't hurt the plant and the squirrels won't come near it.

17. Flexible vacuum

To get something out of a heat register or under the fridge add an empty paper towel roll or empty gift wrap roll to your vacuum. It can be bent or flattened to get in narrow openings.

18. Reducing Static Cling

Pin a small safety pin to the seam of your slip and you will not have a clingy skirt or dress. The same thing works with slacks that cling when wearing pantyhose. Place pin in seam of slacks and ... guess what! ... static is gone.

19. Measuring Cups

Before you pour sticky substances into a measuring cup, fill it with hot water. Dump out the hot water, but don't dry the cup. Next, add your ingredients, such as peanut butter, and watch how easily it comes right out. (Or spray the measuring cup or spoon with Pam before using)

20. Foggy Windshield?

Hate foggy windshields? Buy a chalkboard eraser and keep it in the glove box of your car When the windows fog, rub with the eraser! Works better than a cloth!

21. Re-opening envelopes

If you seal an envelope and then realize you forgot to include something inside, just place your sealed envelope in the freezer for an hour or two. Viola! It unseals easily.

22. Conditioner

Use your hair conditioner to shave your legs. It's cheaper than shaving cream and leaves your legs really smooth. It's also a great way to use up the conditioner you bought but didn't like when you tried it in your hair.

23. Goodbye Fruit Flies

To get rid of pesky fruit flies, take a small glass, fill it 1/2' with Apple Cider Vinegar and 2 drops of dishwashing liquid; mix well. You will find those flies drawn to the cup and gone forever!

24. Get Rid of Ants

Put small piles of cornmeal where you see ants. They eat it, take it 'home,' and can't digest it so it kills them. It may take a week or so, especially if it rains, but it works and you don't have the worry about pets or small children being harmed!

25. Dryer Filter

Even if you are very diligent about cleaning the lint filter in your dryer it still may be causing you a problem. If you use dryer sheets a waxy build-up could be accumulating on the filter causing your dryer to over heat. The solution to this is to clean your filter with a toothbrush and hot soapy water every 6 months.

☆ Thank you all for passing my things around and sharing 

Feel-good stories.

I like reading the feel-good stories that circulate on the social media that read. These stories often evoke strong positive emotions such as joy, gratitude, and hope. These emotions counterbalance the negative news and stress that we face if we read the news. Stories of kindness, generosity, and overcoming adversity create a sense of uplift and inspire me to feel better about our world.

Feel-good stories create a sense of community and shared experience. They spark conversations, encourage empathy, and foster connections among those who might feel isolated. The comments and sharing of these stories create a ripple effect, where more people are inspired and share their own positive experiences.

I belong to several groups, and I find that I stop reading them from time to time because they become saturated with negative content. Feel-good stories provide a counterbalance and maintain a balanced perspective while reinforcing the idea that there is still a lot of good in the world.

Hearing about acts of kindness, resilience, and human decency can encourage people to engage in similar positive behaviours. For example, a story about a stranger helping someone in need might motivate others to perform acts of kindness themselves.

Feel-good stories can prompt users to reflect on their own lives and experiences. This reflection can deepen empathy and encourage us to appreciate the good in our own lives. Positive stories have a high potential to go viral, that is partly due to their emotional appeal and the desire to share uplifting content. When a story resonates with many people, it can spread quickly across social media platforms, reaching a wider audience and amplifying its impact. Overall, feel-good stories cater to our desire for optimism and connection, which is why I enjoy reading them

A Challenge in Tracking Resurfaced Social Media Stories

I thought about the idea of resurfacing positive posts and thought I would look for a few more of these posts, but unfortunately, it's difficult to provide a definitive list of resurfaced positive social media stories. Stories often resurface organically due to user engagement, virality, and algorithm changes, making it challenging to track a precise timeline. The same story might have been shared on multiple platforms at different times, making it difficult to determine a single "initial posting" date.

Having said the above, some of the most popular positive stories that frequently resurface across social media over the years include Penguin Hopping into a Boat to Escape Orcas First posted in 2021, this heartwarming clip of a penguin escaping orcas by jumping into a tourist boat went viral across platforms like Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube. It has since resurfaced multiple times due to its charming nature and has accumulated millions of views. The "Ice Bucket Challenge" (2014). This viral campaign to raise awareness for ALS started on Facebook but quickly spread to Instagram, YouTube, and other platforms. It resurfaced in 2015 and 2016 during ALS awareness months, generating millions in donations for the cause. Taco Bell’s Snapchat Campaign (Cinco de Mayo), Taco Bell's famous Snapchat filter for Cinco de Mayo, where users’ faces turned into tacos, was first launched in 2016. It resurfaced in social media stories about successful marketing campaigns and continued to be referenced on Instagram and Twitter in marketing discussions. Museum of Ice Cream on Instagram (2016), With over 72 million engagements using the hashtag #museumoficecream, this campaign highlighted the museum's fusion of physical and digital experiences. It has been reposted on Instagram and Facebook, especially when discussing the intersection of art, branding, and social media.

These stories typically resurface on popular platforms such as Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and YouTube, where they continue to bring smiles and garner engagement from users.

Life Lessons

The following is a lesson about how what we write on the net, always remains. A friend posted the message 42 Life Lessons. Somewhere along the line, someone made a mistake and listed the author’s age as 90. That attracted a lot of attention. I enjoyed reading the post and did some research about the post. You may see the post on one of the social media platforms or have seen it recently. The post was written on May 28, 2009. I do not take credit for the information about the author, it was gathered by Patricia Stoltey another author whose work has won awards. Her 2014 novel, Dead Wrong, was a finalist in the thriller category of the 2015 Colorado Book Awards.

The author of the post sent to me is Regina Brett, a columnist at The Plain Dealer in Cleveland, Ohio. She’s real and interesting, but definitely not 90 years old. A follow-up post on June 6, 2009, is entitled: Life’s lessons Speed up on the Internet; 90 years of living in 50: Regina Brett. Check out Regina’s bio as well.

Think about this; one tiny blog post written from the heart is now travelling around  the world making people nod and smile.

The text sent to me via FaceBook starts below. 

Written by a 90-year-old, 42 lessons life taught me 💖. The following was written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of the Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio.

"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 42 lessons life taught me. It is the most requested column I've ever written.

My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:

1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3. Life is too short – enjoy it..

4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and family will.

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

6. You don't have to win every argument. Stay true to yourself.

7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.

8. Save for retirement starting with your first pay check.

9. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

10. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.

11. It's OK to let your children see you cry.

12. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

13. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it...

14 Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

15. Get rid of anything that isn't useful. Clutter weighs you down in many ways.

16. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.

17. It's never too late to be happy. But it’s all up to you and no one else.

18. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.

19. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.(amen 💖💖💖)

20. Over-prepare, then go with the flow.

21. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.💖

22. The most important sex organ is the brain.

23. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.

24. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'

25. Always choose life.

26. Forgive but don’t forget.

27. What other people think of you is none of your business.

28. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.

29. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

30. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does..

31. Believe in miracles.

32. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

33. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.

34. Your children get only one childhood.

35. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

36. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere. (I love this one)

37. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.

38. Envy is a waste of time. Accept what you already have not what you need.

39. The best is yet to come...

40. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

41. Yield.

42. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."

Happy Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving in Canada. This is an important holiday with cultural, historical, and social significance. It serves as a time for Canadians to express gratitude and appreciate the blessings in their lives.

Thanksgiving in Canada dates back to the 16th century when English explorer Martin Frobisher held a ceremony to give thanks for surviving his journey to the New World. Over time, it evolved to include celebrating the harvest and other blessings of the past year.

Traditionally, Thanksgiving is linked to the harvest season. Early settlers in Canada celebrated successful harvests with feasts to mark the end of the farming season and prepare for the long winter ahead.

Thanksgiving reflects key values such as gratitude, community, and appreciation for nature. These are deeply embedded in Canadian culture, and the holiday fosters a sense of national identity and unity. But Thanksgiving also starts a flurry of celebrations of not only thanks but of hijinks for Canadians. 

We may not think about this, but there is a link between the holiday of Thanksgiving and the greeting of ghosts and goblins at your door on October 31. While Thanksgiving and Halloween are distinct holidays with different historical and cultural roots, there are several interesting links and influences between the two traditions that we don’t think about or perhaps even realize.

One of the most noteworthy links is the tradition of masking and dressing up, which has a shared history between the two holidays. Historically, Thanksgiving in the United States had a tradition of "masking" or "mumming," where children would dress up in costumes and go from door to door, often seeking treats or engaging in playful pranks. This tradition was adopted by Canadians and predates the modern practice of trick-or-treating associated with Halloween.

Tad Tuleja, a folklorist, argues that Thanksgiving masking is a "missing link" between European traditions and American Halloween. He suggests that the practice of dressing up and going door-to-door during Thanksgiving was later adopted and adapted into the Halloween tradition of trick-or-treating in the 1930s.

The evolution of Halloween traditions has also been influenced by other holidays, including Thanksgiving. As Halloween became more commercialized and widespread, it absorbed elements from various cultural and seasonal celebrations. For instance, dressing up in costumes, once a part of Thanksgiving celebrations, became a central aspect of Halloween.

Fall is both the beginning of the end of the season and the start of the rebirth of the seasons. Our fall celebrations of Thanksgiving and Halloween contribute to the festive and celebratory atmosphere of the fall season. Thanksgiving marks the beginning of this festive period, emphasizing family gatherings, traditional meals, and expressions of gratitude. Halloween, occurring later in the season, continues this spirit of celebration, focusing on costumes, decorations, and community events. This sequential celebration creates a prolonged period of festive activity, with each holiday building on the excitement and communal spirit of the previous one.

The link between the celebration of Thanksgiving and Halloween is rooted in historical traditions, cultural influences, and the shared festive spirit of the fall season. The historical practice of masking and dressing up during Thanksgiving has contributed to the modern trick-or-treating tradition of Halloween. Both holidays play significant roles in shaping the seasonal celebrations and communal activities that define the autumn and early winter months.

Barbieland vs. The Real World—Lessons for Barbie & Kens

My thanks to my friend Ken for this idea.  If you have not seen this movie, I highly recommend it. Our organization took a group of seniors to see it and the reviews were all very positive. It is not a children's movie, it resonates with adults or at least seniors.

This movie sends many messages, with stereotypical Barbie living a perfect life. However, she lacks an occupation, which leaves her feeling empty when she starts to malfunction. The movie offers lessons for both Barbies and Kens. Barbie realizes that being just an "idea" of a woman no longer fulfills her. Her path to joy involves embracing her humanity, including all its complexities, heartaches, and imperfections.

The Barbie movie unfolds in two worlds. One is Barbieland, a hyper-feminized doll land, while the other is the Real World, where men mostly hold power, and women struggle to be heard. Initially in Barbieland, Barbie and the other Barbies enjoy power and influence without facing the sexism, oppression, or insecurities that human women endure. Ken's role in Barbie Land is limited to following Barbie like a puppy, waiting for her attention without much significance.

The idyllic bubble of Barbieland bursts when Barbie experiences existential dread and insecurities, mirroring the thoughts of the human playing with her in the Real World. To address this, she and Ken venture into the Real World, where Barbie confronts the emotional weight of womanhood. She questions her worth, intelligence, capabilities, and beauty.

Meanwhile, Ken experiences male privilege for the first time, noticing how men in the Real World hold power, respect, and influence. He believes bringing these ideas back to Barbie Land is the key to his happiness. Ken transforms Barbie's Dreamhouse into a frat house, embracing hyper-masculine ideals.

Ultimately, the movie teaches valuable lessons. Barbie realizes that being an "idea" of a woman isn't fulfilling; true joy comes from embracing her humanity. Similarly, Ken learns that conforming to hyper-masculinity or being Barbie's sidekick won't bring happiness. He must discover his identity and desires on his own terms, symbolized hilariously by his wearing a tie-dyed hoodie with "I am Kenough" emblazoned on it.

Choice is not an option

 Over time I have heard this over and over again. “Everything is a choice.” This is, of course, true on a very basic level. However, the next line is presented as a stark choice. For example, Do I choose to seek the positive or the negative?  The light or the dark?  To help myself or hinder myself? 

Embracing the idea that "everything is a choice" can lead to profound insights and transformations in our lives. When we acknowledge that we have the power to choose our perspectives, attitudes, and actions, it opens up a world of possibilities.

Choosing to focus on the positive rather than the negative can drastically alter your experiences. I think we’d take more risks as we wouldn’t be so afraid.    I think life would be so much more fun and lighter and delightful.  And I think we would explode in our ability to learn and grow.

Choosing to embrace the light over the dark signifies a preference for optimism, hope, and brightness in life. Opting to help oneself rather than hinder oneself can lead to personal empowerment and self-improvement. It involves taking responsibility for our actions and decisions, working towards goals, and seeking support and resources when needed.

What if we embraced that life and learning is a gift where you can teach me, and I can teach you and we can also learn from each other. I think learning would be so much more fun and creative. Holding a perspective on life and learning as gifts that involve mutual teaching and self-discovery is enriching. Viewing learning as a collaborative and creative process where everyone has something valuable to contribute can make it more enjoyable and meaningful. As you move through life with this attitude you can foster a culture of sharing knowledge, learning from diverse perspectives, and embracing curiosity and exploration.

By approaching life with a mindset focused on positivity, collaboration, and growth, you can indeed experience more fun, lightness, and delight. Fear diminishes as you become more open to taking risks and stepping out of your comfort zone. This openness and optimism can lead to exponential personal and collective growth so you can constantly learn, evolve, and inspire yourself and others along the way.

Confusion, indecision, and uncertainty

Confusion, indecision, and uncertainty are like mischievous gremlins playing tricks on our minds, taunting us with their tantalizing dance of options. It's as if they conspire to keep us in a perpetual state of bewilderment, hoping to see us stumble and fumble our way through life's choices. But fear not, for within this chaos lies a silver lining, a hidden gem of hope.

Sometimes, when we find ourselves teetering on the precipice of a decision, it's tempting to rush headlong into an option that appears satisfactory, just to escape the discomfort of uncertainty. Yet, if we have the patience to wait, to let the sands of time sift through our fingers, an extraordinary thing may happen. A superior alternative might unveil itself, sparkling with such brilliance that it catches us off guard, almost like a playful tap on your forehead.

Imagine the sheer delight of that moment—the epiphany when clarity descends upon us like a gust of wind, sweeping away the fog of confusion that had shrouded our judgment. Suddenly, the world aligns itself in perfect harmony, as if the universe conspired to orchestrate this revelation solely for our benefit. It's an experience that can be both exhilarating and overwhelming, leaving us momentarily breathless as we surrender to its captivating allure.

In those instances, the universe seems to play the role of a whimsical matchmaker, bringing together two souls—the seeker and the sought-after—whose destinies were entwined in a cosmic dance. As we extend our hand towards this newfound option, we can almost feel the electric current of possibilities surging through our veins. We're swept off our feet, carried away by the sheer force of the enchantment that fills the air.

However, let us not forget the lessons taught by our mischievous friends, confusion and indecision. While the emergence of a better option may indeed be a captivating phenomenon, we must approach it with a touch of skepticism. Is this newfound clarity a genuine revelation, or merely a passing infatuation? Will it stand the test of time, or is it a fleeting mirage that will vanish as quickly as it appeared?

The key lies in maintaining a balance between patience and action, between embracing the serendipity that comes with waiting and the courage required to seize the opportunity when it arises. It's a delicate dance—one that demands both mindfulness and intuition. So, my dear friend, be ready to pounce when the moment is right, but also be open to the possibility that clarity may yet have more surprises in store for you.

Remember, life is a grand tapestry woven with threads of uncertainty. Embrace the confusion, revel in the indecision, and dance with the uncertainty. For it is within the interplay of these elements that the true magic of discovery lies, ready to sweep you off your feet and lead you towards a future brighter than you ever imagined.