The Ministry of Minutes: How Ordinary People Steady the World

I was reading a post by Todd Mafifin https://todmaffin.com/ (The world between minutes) and as I have been thinking about time, it lead me to these ideas.

A few months ago, I sat down with a small group of dedicated Board members to apply for a grant. It was the kind of administrative task that doesn’t feel particularly glamorous, endless forms, budget projections, and carefully worded mission statements. We did it because that is what you do when you care about something. You put in the work, you cross your fingers, and then you wait.

A few days ago, the news arrived: we received the grant.

In the grand scheme of a world that feels like it’s spinning off its axis, a single grant for a local seniors’ organization might seem like a small thing. But here is the truth I am holding onto right now: it is not a small thing. It is everything. This funding will allow us to host seminars, run programs, and bring connection to hundreds of seniors in Port Coquitlam. It means that for a few hundred people, the week will look a little brighter, the isolation will lift just a little, and the message will be clear: You are seen. You matter.

We are living through a tonne of bad news. It arrives in our pockets constantly, delivered in neat little rectangles of light. The notifications stack up, political turmoil, environmental dread, economic uncertainty, human suffering. It is easy to feel like the world is unravelling, and it is even easier to feel powerless to stop it. The chaos is loud, relentless, and it demands our attention.

But here is what I have noticed lately. The good news doesn’t arrive in a push notification. It shows up in smaller, quieter doses. It doesn’t shout; it simply persists.

Teachers still show up. They stand in front of classrooms, day after day, shaping young minds and offering stability in a world that offers very little of it. Volunteers still show up. They ladle soup in community kitchens, sort donations at food banks, and sit with the elderly. Nurses and First Responders still take their shifts. They walk into the emergency room, the long-term care facility, the ambulance, and they do their jobs with steady hands and tired eyes. They don’t fix the whole world, but they steady the minute in front of them.

And that, I believe, is the secret we have forgotten.

We do not control the chaos. The news cycle will spin whether we watch it or not. The world will continue to throw curveballs. We cannot stop the storm, but we can decide how we hold the umbrella. We can decide what the next minute looks like. We can choose to make that minute kind. We can choose to make it productive. We can choose to make it about someone other than ourselves.

By taking control of the minutes, we take control of the hours. And by taking control of the hours, we take control of the day. And by taking control of the day, we take control of how we approach our lives.

I was talking to a senior the other day, one of the wonderful humans we have the privilege of serving. He told me that he is now the longest-living member of his entire family. He has outlived his parents, his siblings, and even some of his friends. I expected to hear sadness in his voice, perhaps the weight of so many goodbyes. Instead, I heard something else entirely.

He said, "I take every day as a blessing. I wake up, and I am just happy to be in the moment."

Here is a man who has seen more chaos than most of us can imagine. He has lived through wars, economic crashes, personal losses, and the relentless march of time itself. And yet, his secret to longevity wasn't a diet or an exercise routine. It was gratitude. It was the choice to see each new sunrise as a small miracle.

That conversation stopped me in my tracks. Because if he can find joy in the moment, despite everything, then what is our excuse?

The truth is, we are surrounded by small miracles. We just don’t call them that anymore. We call them "ordinary." We call them "routine." We forget that the reason the world hasn't completely fallen apart is that millions of ordinary people are quietly choosing to hold it together.

The teacher who stays late to help a struggling student. The neighbour who shovels the walkway of the elderly couple next door. The friend who sends a text just to say, "I was thinking of you." The Board member who donates their time to write a grant application. The senior who wakes up and decides to be happy.

These are the acts that form the invisible architecture of a functioning society. They don’t make the news. They don’t trend on social media. But they are the reason any of us make it through.

So, if you are struggling with the chaos around us, and let’s be honest, who isn’t? I invite you to try something. Put down the phone for a minute. Stop doomscrolling. Stop trying to solve the problems of the entire world all at once. You can’t. None of us can.

Instead, look at the minute in front of you. What can you do right now? Can you make a cup of tea and breathe? Can you send a kind word to someone? Can you show up for a shift, for a friend, for yourself?

The grant we received is not going to change the world. But it is going to change the world for a few hundred seniors. It is going to give them a reason to get out of the house, a reason to connect, a reason to smile. And that is enough. That is more than enough.

We are living through a tonne of bad news. But we are also living through a tonne of quiet, persistent goodness. It is happening in the margins, in the moments no one records, in the hearts of people who simply refuse to give up.

Be one of those people. Steady the minute in front of you. Build what the next minute looks like. And remember, each one is a small miracle.

Its all in the timing

Lately I’ve been thinking about time, not in a grim, counting-down way, but with a quiet sense of wonder. Each additional year now feels like a bonus round, an unexpected gift. I love living, and I find myself glorying in how super-rich these years have become. I share my days with a loving partner, a beautiful family, and good friends. I’m healthy. I volunteer with organizations filled with generous, caring people. I still do fun things, laugh often, and wake up curious about what the day might hold.

Every day, I pause to give thanks for this quite extraordinary experience we call living. How lucky we are to be able to do that at all, and to do it in a place that feels, in so many ways, like paradise.

At the same time, there’s no pretending that the circle is thinning. Many of my oldest friends are already gone. More recent friends are beginning to struggle with the realities of aging, memory loss, neurological challenges, and bodies that no longer cooperate. Lately, it feels as if departures are coming in a rush. I’m not counting years exactly, but I’m very aware that I’m sliding farther along the curve of life expectancy.

I find myself hoping for five or six more good, healthy years. Maybe that’s optimistic. Maybe four is more likely. Either way, I’ve made my peace with not knowing. I’ve always liked uncertainty, the right amount of it. For me, uncertainty has never felt frightening; it’s felt fascinating. Even as a child, I carried a quiet confidence that whatever I did, I’d land safely. That belief hasn’t left me.

Most of my life still looks much the same: family gatherings, friendships, meaningful work, shared meals, small routines that anchor the days. Yet I also sense I’m in an in-between place, no longer fully where I was, not quite where I’m going next. And oddly enough, that feels less like loss and more like anticipation. I’m still expecting good times.

My wife helps me navigate this season. She listens, reflects, steadies me when my thoughts wander too far ahead. She’s a wonderful sounding board, and her presence makes these transitions gentler, warmer, more human.

I’ve noticed something else, too. I catch myself reading obituaries and noting ages. As if there’s a formula hidden there. Of course, there isn’t. None of us knows whether we’ll live longer or shorter than “normal,” whatever that means. Time doesn’t negotiate. But knowing that doesn’t drain the color from my days, it sharpens it.

These years feel precious not because they are numbered, but because they are full. And as long as I’m here, I plan to keep noticing, contributing, loving, laughing, and saying thank you. Right to the end.

Conclusion: Thriving in Your New Retirement – The Four Pillars United

As you and I have explored the Four Pillars, Health, Family, Purpose, and Finances, a central theme emerges: they are inextricably interconnected and mutually reinforcing. You cannot robustly address one without touching the others. This holistic view, grounded in research from Edward Jones and updated is the blueprint for the New Retirement.

The research offers both encouragement and a caution. The encouraging news is that most retirees are thriving, reporting good mental health, strong family satisfaction, and finding meaningful purpose. However, not everyone has the same chance at a high-quality life. 28% of retirees rate their quality of life as only fair or poor. What separates the two groups?

Consistently, those who thrive grade themselves highly across all four pillars. Conversely, those struggling report challenges in multiple areas. Life circumstances, like a serious health diagnosis or lack of family support, can be difficult to control, but the pillar framework empowers us to focus on what we can influence.

Your Actionable Takeaway: Conduct a Personal “Pillar Audit.”
Take a moment to honestly assess your retirement plan through this four-part lens:

1. Health: Are you proactively managing your physical and cognitive health? Have you discussed your care preferences with family?
2. Family: Have you nurtured your key relationships and defined your “family of affinity”? Have you had conversations about future care and financial generosity?
3. Purpose: Do you have engaging activities and goals that provide structure and meaning? Have you explored ways to give back or connect with younger generations?
4. Finances: Does your income plan support your desired lifestyle across the other three pillars? Is it resilient to shocks like health events or family needs?

The goal isn’t perfection in every area, but balance and awareness. Strengthening one pillar can help support another that may be wobbling. Investing in your health protects your finances. Nurturing family deepens your purpose. Solid finances give you the peace of mind to enjoy it all.

Retirement is no longer a single event; it’s a dynamic, evolving stage of life. By intentionally building and maintaining these Four Pillars, you’re not just planning for retirement, you’re designing a life of engagement, connection, and well-being. You are building the foundation not just to live longer, but to live better.

Here’s to your thriving New Retirement and I hope you join me as I explore new topics and have some fun.

The Enabling Pillar: Financial Security for the Life You Want

Financial planning for the New Retirement requires a shift in mindset. It’s not just about accumulating the largest nest egg; it’s about creating a secure, sustainable income strategy that empowers the life you’ve designed across the other three pillars. In Canada, this traditionally rests on a three-legged stool:

1. Government Programs (CPP/QPP, OAS)
2. Workplace Pensions (Defined Benefit or Contribution plans)
3. Personal Savings (RRSPs, TFSAs, non-registered investments)

A robust plan optimizes all three sources. However, managing money in retirement can be more complex than saving for it. Your greatest financial worries are likely no longer market volatility alone, but unexpected expenses and the potentially staggering costs of healthcare and long-term care.

Finances: The Interconnected Pillar
This is where the holistic “Four Pillars” approach proves essential. Your finances don’t exist in a vacuum:

• Health & Wealth: Good health protects your savings from medical costs, while financial resources allow you to invest in better care, nutrition, and fitness. Stress over money can also negatively impact your physical health.
• Family & Finances: Generational generosity means your financial plan must account for potential support to family members, while also preparing for the possibility of needing care yourself.
• Purpose & Finances: Your sense of purpose, whether it involves travel, hobbies, or volunteering, has a budget. Your finances should enable your passions, not restrict them.

The key is to plan holistically. Start by asking: “How do I want to live?” Then, build your financial strategy to support that vision, accounting for:

• Long-Term Care: With many facing years of needed care, consider how you might fund it (savings, insurance, home equity).
• Family Support: Have clear, communicated boundaries for financial help to protect your own security.
• Inflation & Longevity: Ensure your income streams are designed to last 30+ years and keep pace with rising costs.

The goal of financial security in the New Retirement is freedom, the freedom to focus on your health, nurture your relationships, and pursue your purpose without constant money anxiety. It’s the pillar that supports the entire structure, making the life you’ve imagined not just possible, but sustainable.

Next: My conclusion will tie all Four Pillars together and share the final takeaway from the research.