Staying Still in the Present Rather Than Chasing the Minutes
When we are young, we often believe there will always be more time—more time to say “I love you,” more time to pursue our dreams, more time to forgive, more time to travel, and more time to simply enjoy the people we love. But somewhere along the way, I discovered that the real gift isn’t just time.
It’s presence.
Those ordinary moments we take for granted often become the
extraordinary ones: sitting around a table with family, laughing with a friend,
watching a sunset, hearing a familiar voice, or simply waking up to another
day.
So, as I reflect on 61 years of life, here are a few lessons
this journey has taught me:
1. Time is a gift.
Don’t assume you have more of it.
2. Be present.
Some of the moments you barely notice today will become the memories you
treasure tomorrow.
3. Tell people you love them.
Don’t wait for the perfect moment.
4. Life rarely goes exactly according to plan.
Sometimes you have to adjust the route.
5. Setbacks can become stepping stones.
6. Your circumstances do not get to define your entire
story.
7. It is never too late to grow.
8. It is never too late to change.
9. It is never too late to dream.
10. It is never too late to begin again.
My 61st year certainly tested those lessons.
I started the year with a broken arm and a broken foot that
required surgery. I spent three months in a wheelchair. Then, just as life was
beginning to feel normal again, I was attacked by a pit bull while riding my
bicycle. Seventeen staples in my leg later, I had another reminder that life
doesn’t always ask permission before changing direction.
But I kept moving.
And that brings me to another lesson:
11. Keep pedaling.
Riding a bicycle is more than a hobby to me. There is
something incredibly invigorating about being on a bike. You feel every hill.
You feel the wind. You feel the sun on your face. You feel your muscles
working. You feel the road beneath you. This summer, I was lucky enough to check two
major things off my “bike it “list.
I rode 36 miles along California Highway 101, from Oceanside
to Torrey Pines, traveling through Carlsbad, Encinitas, Cardiff-by-the-Sea,
Solana Beach, and Del Mar. It was the most exhilarating, intimidating and picturesque
ride of my life. But one that will be
etched in my mind forever.
Two days later, I hoped on the Coronado Island ferry in San
Diego to ride south to the Tijuana border. Along the way, I passed Naval Base
Coronado, the Pacific Ocean, wildlife preserves, and ended in Border Field State Park
at the U.S./ Mexico border. It was such a humbling experience to be reminded of
how lucky we are as Americans compared to our neighbors to the south.
For me those rides were much more than miles. They were about
endurance. They were about self-efficacy. They were about proving to myself
that I could keep going even when my body and mind were telling me it would be
easier to stop.
12. You don’t have to conquer the entire road at once.
You just have
to make it through one mile at a time.
13. Sometimes the moment you think you can’t go any
farther is the moment you discover that you can.
14. Age is not always the limitation we think it is.
15. Circumstances don’t always determine what you are
capable of.
16. Sometimes the biggest barrier is simply believing you
can’t.
And eventually, you realize something important:
17. The person responsible for keeping you moving forward
is you.
This year also brought another unexpected journey—a full
season of un-retirement.
For 38 years, I have worked as a social worker in some facet
of child welfare.
I have spent much of my career seeing people during some of
the most vulnerable moments of their lives.
And that work has taught me:
18. Behind every situation is a human being.
Behind every file is a child. Behind every family is a story.
19. Sometimes people don’t need someone to fix
everything. They simply need someone to believe things can be different.
I have loved this work, even when it was difficult.
But I’ve also learned:
20. Loving something doesn’t mean you have to do it
forever.
Coming back out of retirement brought a lot of mixed
emotions.
Was I returning because I truly wanted to? Because I still
had something to offer?
Or because I wasn’t quite ready to let go? Maybe it was all
three.
But I know this now:
21. There is dignity in knowing when it is time to close
a chapter.
And another retirement is on my horizon.
The question isn’t whether that day will come. The question is whether I will recognize
when it’s time.
For more than half of my life on this earth, I have been a
social worker.
And perhaps the most personal lesson my work has taught me
is this:
22. You can spend your life helping others while still
having your own work to do.
I have helped people navigate difficult circumstances, but I
have also had to learn how to navigate my own. I made mistakes.
Some of those mistakes affected the people I love most—my
children.
That is difficult to admit.
But at 61, I am learning that:
23. Honesty is part of healing.
I carried baggage from my past—experiences I hadn’t fully
dealt with and wounds I didn’t always understand.
And sometimes, those unresolved parts of me affected the way
I parented.
I wish I had known then what I know now.
I wish I could go back and give my younger self some of the
wisdom I have today.
I wish I had understood sooner that sometimes we respond to
our children through the lens of our own unresolved pain.
But I can’t rewrite yesterday.
24. Life doesn’t give us the opportunity to rewrite the
past. It gives us the opportunity to
learn from it. And that is what I choose to do. I don’t want my mistakes to be
the final definition of my story.
I want my children to know that I love them.
I want them to know that I recognize where I fell short.
And I want them to know that growth is possible—even after
we have made mistakes.
25. Being honest about your failures doesn’t make you
weak.
It makes you human.
26. Sometimes the greatest strength is having the courage
to say, “I could have done better.”
In my sixties, I’m learning to give myself the same grace I
have spent years encouraging others to give themselves.
So here are a few more lessons I’m carrying into this next
chapter:
27. Forgive yourself.
28. Apologize when you need to.
29. Forgive when you can.
30. Give grace to others.
31. Protect your peace.
32. Don’t let one bad chapter convince you that the whole
story is bad.
33. Keep the people who love you close.
34. Tell your people what they mean to you.
35. Don’t postpone joy.
36. Make time for the things that make you feel alive.
37. Check something off your bucket list.
38. Take the trip.
39. Ride the bike.
40. Climb the hill.
41. Try something that scares you.
42. Your body may have limits, but don’t underestimate
your spirit.
43. You are stronger than you think.
44. You don’t need to have everything figured out.
45. Sometimes faith means moving forward without seeing
the entire road.
46. You only need to see the next mile.
47. Don’t confuse slowing down with giving up.
48. Looking back can give you wisdom, but looking forward
gives you possibility.
49. Your best years don’t automatically end at 60.
50. Purpose doesn’t have an expiration date.
51. It’s never too late to become a better version of
yourself.
52. Enjoy every moment you can.
53. Keep moving forward.
The road doesn’t end at 61.
In fact, the road ahead may become the greatest part of the
story.
And finally…
55. Have faith in tomorrow.
Faith that there is still something ahead of me. Faith that
there are still lessons to learn, people to love, places to go, dreams to
pursue, and miles left to pedal. I may not be able to see the entire road. But
I can see the next mile marker. And for now, that’s enough.
Here’s to 61 years of lessons, 62 years of possibilities,
and savoring every moment ahead.❤️🚴🏾♂️
Below is the link to a YouTube video someone else made of the ride down CA 101. I could not use my video from my phone because of the grain and camera shake. Paste the link below into browser to check it out. You won't be disappointed.
❤️https://youtu.be/HUb7AxH4G2c?t=129
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