For centuries, people have searched for the fountain of youth – some miraculous food, pill, treatment, or discovery that might slow aging and keep us young. I have spent much of my life studying aging and longevity. I earned a master’s degree in gerontology, have written about longevity, and, perhaps most importantly, have had the opportunity to experience aging firsthand.

In my last article for Sixty and Me, I admitted that I rather enjoy reading hotel reviews. Yes, I know, I need to get out more. Well, I also find myself reading the questions people ask on forums about retiring overseas, and perhaps even more interestingly, the answers they receive. There is no shortage of enthusiasm…

A few months ago, I was feeling lethargic about my life. It seemed smaller, rather flat and far too predictable. I wondered whether this was simply what happened at 72. Perhaps life naturally slowed down, and I needed to accept it. But I didn’t want to accept it. Just because I may be three quarters of the way through my life does not mean I need to stop fully living it…

I know it’s a bit odd, but I actually enjoy reading hotel reviews. Whenever I book somewhere for a holiday, I do the usual research beforehand. But even after the hotel is booked, I often find myself going back to read the latest reviews before I travel. Partly it’s anticipation, but mostly it’s curiosity…

When I was 60, I thought I was getting old. Now that I am 90, I find that rather amusing. At 60, I had already lived a substantial life. I had worked, learned, made mistakes, enjoyed successes, worried about things that never happened, and survived problems that once seemed enormous. But looking back over the 30 years since then, I can see several things much more clearly…

The other morning, as I sat down to breakfast – a fresh cup of coffee, an almond cranberry scone topped with yogurt and homemade peach preserves – I realized that this simple pleasure had not happened by accident. The word that came to mind was discipline. I hadn’t particularly wanted to bake scones the evening before, nor had I been eager…

A friend once told me she spent nearly six months deciding whether to move. She made lists. She talked with her children. She visited neighborhoods. She changed her mind more than once. Then one afternoon she laughed and said, “I finally realized I wasn’t trying to find the perfect decision. I was trying to become comfortable with whichever decision I made.”

Every woman of a certain age has known a Big Shot. Maybe it was a husband. A boss. A father. A brother who needed every room to revolve around him. Billy Joel’s 1978 hit was famously about someone trying too hard to be impressive – chasing status, dropping names, performing a kind of bravado that didn’t hold up under its own weight…

You’ve done the research. You know the visa requirements by heart. You have compared property prices across three countries, watched more YouTube videos than you can count, and perhaps even saved a listing or two for a home that made you catch your breath…

Linda retired on a Friday with the kind of farewell most people hope for. There was a luncheon in the office conference room, speeches from coworkers who had become lifelong friends, a scrapbook filled with photographs spanning nearly three decades, and a cake decorated with the words Enjoy Your Next Chapter…