Tag Archives: Yoga

How You’ll Know When It’s Time to Let Go

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Ego, irritation and exhaustion are the watchwords of this story — the emotional and physical habits that work against us as we age. TLDR is the cheeky abbreviation for “too long, didn’t read” (yes, I learned that from a Millennial), so if you’re stopping here, try to guard against:

  • Self-importance (the conviction that only you know what’s best).
  • Sanctimoniousness (feeling thwarted when others counter what you believe to be right).
  • Overdoing it (because you believe you can control the outcome).

I want to tamp down these tendencies in the autumn of my life. Quitting work at age 68 may help me do that.


Image by freepik

I have talked about retirement so often in this blog that my friends and family just dismiss me: You love being busy. You’ll never quit working. The first statement is true. The second has changed, which I never anticipated during my decades as a careerist.

At the end of August, after months of hand-wringing and internal debate, I finally left the last of my part-time jobs. I embraced the word “retirement,” even as I struggle still with what it means.

Getting there has been a journey:

  • Three years ago, in September 2022, I resigned from full-time employment after I turned 65 and archly declared that no one should view me as “retired,” given the two part-time positions I’d taken on.
  • Six months later, in March 2023, I described those jobs as a “glidepath” toward retirement and interviewed two peers who were taking similar approaches.
  • A year into the gig work, in September 2023, I described how part-time professional work pulls more on your intellect and energies than a job you leave behind once the shift is over.
  • In July 2024, more than a year before official retirement, I wrote about the decision to draw Social Security at age 67. It was another step closer to the inevitable. And toward acceptance.

Finally, this past February, I gave six months’ notice and developed systems that would make the transition easier for my successor. Here’s how I reconciled my instinctive desire to keep working — despite the privilege of financial security — with the reality that it was time to move on.

The first half of life is devoted to forming a healthy ego, the second half is going inward and letting go of it.

Swiss psychiatrist and psychologist Carl Jung

Once ego takes over

My final job was as managing editor of Streets.mn, an online publication that advocates for “people-centered communities”: bike and pedestrian infrastructure, public transportation, vibrant public spaces and more abundant housing throughout Minnesota. The quarter-time position was the only paid job within the volunteer-based organization. I worked with board members who had full-time responsibilities elsewhere, with unpaid contributors who had little professional writing experience, and with copy editors who were donating their time and had varying degrees of commitment to learning the fine points of AP Style.

The work was rewarding and challenging — a big stretch for a part-time gig, with the responsibility of publishing a new piece of well-reported content every weekday. The board would warn me from time to time that donations were down and cut my hours for several months at the end of 2024. And yet I remained motivated and immensely proud of the work, getting to my computer every workday before 6 a.m. to ensure we met the 7 a.m. publication deadline.

Dedication morphed into ownership as I passed the three-year mark. I thought less about what “we” were accomplishing, together, with this reputable publication and more about how “I” had transformed it into a well-oiled machine.

My successor approaches the role differently and is contributing her own strengths. In the four weeks since I left, I have ceased to check the website every morning and note the copy-editing changes I would have made. (A friend challenged me to stop; just stop.) Time to separate, to let go and, for my own peace of mind, to abandon the notion that my way is the only and obvious answer.

Endings are a little overrated. When the ending is here, it’s here, and you just move forward.

WNBA all-star Diana Taurasi, who retired in 2025 at age 42

Restless, irritable and discontent

My insider joke, more relevant a year ago, was that I didn’t want to become the Joe Biden of Streets.mn — the oldest person in the room at board meetings, writers’ gatherings and readers’ happy hours; the leader who couldn’t accept that she was aging out.

Collaborating with younger people helps keep me mentally fresh. I’ve recognized that since I turned 60. Still, as my quit date got closer, little irritants kept popping up that I could only attribute to a generational divide:

  • A Macalester College student who wrote for us occasionally texted me after our coffee meeting to suggest I use AI editing to reduce my workload — apparently unaware of all the years of experience and mentorship it required for me to get good at this.
  • A guest on a Streets.mn podcast episode declared that “all cops suck” in Minneapolis, and the host agreed, as though it’s a verified fact. I don’t believe that to be true, nor is it my experience with police. But maybe those are the uninformed musings of an older white woman.
  • Though I often told writers that an editor’s job is “to make you look good,” I grew weary of polishing stories that lacked focus or solid reporting. I wondered whether my obsession with word choice, fact-checking and well-crafted sentences was outdated in an era when fewer people read books — or read, period — and when TikTok users see “celebrities” and “influencers” as a legitimate source of news.

A former college professor, a woman whose work was her calling, told me she knew it was time to retire when she got tired of dealing with students. Exactly.

We do best when we learn how to have both work and rest in our lives.

Women Rowing North (2019), by Mary Pipher

The body’s wisdom

I kept notes during the first month of my retirement to track how this life change feels physically and emotionally. I was sick the first few days: stomach problems, little appetite, a newfound love of naps. After consulting WebMD and freaking out at the possibilities, I came to recognize that my malady was pure exhaustion.

I am grateful every day that I enjoy such good health at 68. I can’t imagine life without biking, walking, yoga classes, physical mobility. Yes, these are the “golden years.” But how long can they last?

Two weeks ago, my cousin had to cancel our plans to meet at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum, and I had an entire day unscheduled. I cooked and listened to podcasts, took a bath and read, baked spoonbread in two pans and shared one with a neighbor who has suffered a broken collarbone. I never allow myself this luxury of time.

“When transitions happen and identities change, one of our great challenges is to find a new sense of meaning and purpose in our lives,” writes psychologist Mary Pipher in the 2019 book Women Rowing North, which is written for the phase of life I’m entering.

Image by freepik

This is my chance, finally, to put family first. To cultivate and honor friendships, the intentional family that has stood by me. To spend time with my first grandchild and be present for my grown sons. To retire not only from a career but from achievement and doing, from broadcasting accomplishments on LinkedIn, from filling up my calendar because it helps me feel important.

Time is fleeting. That’s a reality for everyone, but only in old age do you know it to be true.

Health Habits for Women to Practice as We Age

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I was born with good health and have been blessed to have medical insurance and routine dental care throughout my life. Dad modeled daily exercise, Mom pushed us kids outside to play (likely because she craved peace and quiet), and both parents ensured we had bicycles and insisted we use them.

I thank them to this day that I still love to ride my bikes.

The habits I have built and the health I have sustained have served me well into my 60s. But it isn’t the decades-long practices — the balanced diet, the use of movement for both physical and emotional wellbeing — that are consuming me these days.

I am thinking instead about the physical changes that come with age, the need to work on bone density and balance, to guard my skin against the sun, to manage unexplained flareups in my hips, hands and feet. “Aging is not for the faint of heart,” my father used to say. (Actually, he said aging is not for “sissies,” but that word feels wrong today.)

So, at a time of life that requires equal doses of courage and self-confidence — and a commitment to spend more time on daily health habits — here are the practices I am working to develop.

Quick tips icons created by Freepik – Flaticon

ProTip #1: Hug your muscles to your bones.

I would hear this instruction in yoga classes, but I never quite grasped it till I was diagnosed with osteoporosis in November 2022, a blow that tossed me into old age without warning. Indeed, the bone-thinning disease that tends to strike women after menopause elicits sobering statistics:

  • Half of all women over 50 will break a bone because of osteoporosis, a “silent disease” that often is diagnosed only after a hip, wrist or other bone has broken.
  • Of the 10 million Americans who live with osteoporosis, 80% are women.
  • Caucasian and Asian American women are four times more likely to experience thinning bones than African American women and Latinas.

You can take medication for osteoporosis, and deal with the risks and side effects, but women can fight back in natural ways as well: eating more protein, taking Vitamin D3 supplements, lifting weights. In addition, I recommend a 12-pose yoga series designed by Dr. Loren Fishman and brought to light by New York Times writer Jane Brody in 2015.

Among the “side effects” of this prescription for osteoporosis, said Fishman, a physiatrist, in Brody’s “Personal Health” column, are “better posture, improved balance, enhanced coordination, greater range of motion, higher strength, reduced levels of anxiety and better gait.”

Kendra Fitzgerald’s version of the 12 poses on YouTube.

My sister found varieties of the 12 poses on YouTube, and after experimenting with several, I landed on the 20- and 29-minute versions by Kendra Fitzgerald. I’ve also strengthened my practice by taking “yoga for bone density” classes from certified instructors who have taught me the power of engaging muscles deeply while holding each pose (and who claim that the practice can improve your T-score).

Try it: Plant your feet on the floor. Root down through your heels and send that energy up your legs. Engage your thighs, your glutes, your abdominal muscles. Pull your shoulders down your back and radiate strength up your spine. Stand tall, sending your head toward the ceiling and pressing your fingertips toward the floor. Feel your strength as you hug your muscles to the bones.

ProTip #2: Employ your smartphone’s flashlight.

Twenty-five percent of older people — 65 and up, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) — fall at least once every year. And women are at greater risk. A weakened lower body, vision problems, a Vitamin D deficiency, impractical footwear, and home hazards such as throw rugs and lack of railings in bathrooms and on stairways are among the causes.

Flaticon.com

If you fall once, according to the CDC, you are twice as likely to fall again. Traumatic brain injury, broken bones and an increased fear of falling may result. People who feel uneasy on their feet are less likely to move around outdoors or to exercise at all — and, therefore, are more likely to become weak and isolated.

One solution? I turn on my iPhone flashlight both indoors and out, a tip from a young man who uses his phone’s flashlight when he’s crossing a street at dusk with his wife and children. I tried it walking home after dark when I still worked full time less than a mile from my home, scanning the sidewalk for uneven surfaces and tilting the light toward fast-moving vehicles as I approached a crosswalk. Now I use the flashlight when I get up before sunrise during a long Minnesota winter. It helps me navigate around houseplants, resting dogs and rocking chairs — as well as up and down the stairs — without waking my late-sleeping husband.

ProTip #3: Wear a funny hat.

Two age spots on the left side of my face came from years of commuting, a dermatologist told me, when the sun would shine hard through the driver’s door window. And to think I used to revel in the warmth.

Sunglasses icons created by juicy_fish – Flaticon

A lover of stylish sunglasses, I also used to wonder why so many men wear baseball or bill caps. Now I get it. A bill cap keeps the sun out of your eyes and off your face. Even better are the hats that have a drawstring at the throat and a circular brim that shields the back of your neck as well.

In addition to applying sunscreen throughout the year — another dictate from the dermatologist and one of five skin-protection recommendations from the CDC — I cut my hair short so it looks halfway decent after a sunhat or bike helmet flattens it throughout the spring and summer. I bought my sunhat at REI. But instead of disparaging them as “old lady” hats, I wish I’d started wearing one when my skin was as dewy and wrinkle-free as the young models on this Sungrubbies site.

ProTip #4: Love your feet.

Time seems to speed up as we age, an aphorism cited so often that psychologists are studying whether it is perception or reality. Growing older is like a time machine that swirls you around in busyness for decades until it dumps you in your 60s, with more wrinkles, less ambition, a craving for sleep — and feet that, overnight, start to cramp and crack.

Baby feet icons created by Eucalyp – Flaticon

I was introduced to foot massage in a mat Pilates class after my osteoporosis diagnosis, where the teacher has us spend the first 5 minutes of every session rubbing lotion methodically on and between our toes, down the instep, up the outer edge, around the ball of the foot, over the heel. My feet tingle with pleasure, just as they do after I wince and roll barefoot over a spikey red plastic “peanut massage ball” that the Pilates teacher recommended.

“As you age, the muscle tissue in your feet can thin, and your nerves may not work effectively. This can lead to loss of feeling in your feet, [called] neuropathy,” says an article on footcare for seniors, which also instructs women — hooray! — to “avoid shoes that have high heels or pointy toes.”

The next steps? To stride toward the sunlight and shadows of old age, until the next physical and mental challenges present themselves.

The wisdom of, ‘Whatever’

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My friend Connie, a retired executive, a Christian believer, a mother and grandmother, a considerate friend — a woman whose “lake cabin” is more elegant than any house I’ll ever own — is the last person I would expect to be dismissive or nonchalant.

But that is how I initially interpreted her answer when I asked how she had navigated the final year of her career, at an organization and in a job that were important to her. Whenever something bothered her, she said, when she felt slighted or overlooked, when she disagreed with a decision or a directive from her boss, she would shrug her shoulders and tell herself, Whatever.

The one-word toss-off — so unnatural to her, otherwise — gave Connie perspective, allowing her to see that she could not simultaneously step away and hang on, that she had given a year’s notice before retiring because she wanted to open the door for someone else. Someone different. Someone younger.


Photo by Jimmy Ofisia on Unsplash

Whatever stays with me as I scan my sharp edges after 15 months of a frightening, constrictive pandemic. The principle applies not only to how I navigate the final years of my career but to aspects of life beyond work. Whatever is not: Fuck it! It’s not resentful or angry. It’s the Serenity Prayer, accepting all the slights and hurts, the aggravations and unexpected detours — “the things we cannot change.”

It is recognizing, as my husband says, that America already has too much contention, that I need not engage in every fight or always weigh in with my opinion. Sometimes, the silence can say more, at less cost.

Anger-infused wisdom

Twice in one day recently I had to stop myself from firing back angrily over email (both times with men, whom I rarely allow to gain the upper hand) when the responses to an innocuous request or an open dialogue came across as condescension or mansplaining. One colleague declared it was “not my first rodeo” after I asked him to take notes in a conference session I could not attend (a reasonable request, in my view, given my interest in the topic). Another man gibed that I had become a “convert to Hinduism” after I described the eight limbs of yoga in a conversation about yoga bans in public schools and pointed out to him that, however unwittingly, Alabama and other conservative southern states may grasp the holistic nature of the practice better than most Western fitness enthusiasts.

Both times I stepped back, literally walked away from the computer, and then flipped my irritation like a rock I had stumbled over in the woods. What was beneath it? What resentment would crawl out? “Whatever,” I said aloud, giving myself a pause to reconsider and later to examine how my sensitivities about other aspects of these relationships were fueling such a strong reaction.

Literary wisdom

Sometimes I wonder whether the book I happen to pick up is the one I am meant to be reading. Ideas and awakenings will grab me, ones that seem to be precisely what I need to hear at this time, in this place.

So it was with The Weekend by Charlotte Wood, an appealingly easy read, recommended by a friend, after nearly four months of textbooks in my spring semester graduate class. The story of three women in their early 70s mourning the death of a friend in their longtime foursome, the book described the softening judgments and hard realities of aging, showcasing a demographic often rendered invisible and inspiring this Boomer to highlight passages in multiple colors on her digital reader:

  • “Everybody hated old people now; it was acceptable, encouraged even, because of your paid-off mortgage and your free education and your ruination of the planet.”
  • “You had your ostensible life, going about the physical world, and then you had your other real, inner life — the realm of expression, where the important understandings, the real living, took place.”
  • “On these silent morning walks, her body was ageless, it had seen no degradation.”
  • “The moon appeared now and then between sweeping clouds, and in those moments of cold light, Wendy saw this: my life has not been what I believed it to be.”

I recommended The Weekend to my older sister, thanked my friend David for suggesting it, put it on my list for the next installation of my Annual Book Club — and then was caught short by a dismissive review on Goodreads: “the author was too bored of her own boring book to write an ending for any of the boring characters.” Whatever! The book spoke to me, and that’s what counts.

Animal wisdom

The older I get, the more I see how the wisdom of age is inspired by the wisdom of animals. It is my dogs fleeing to tight, confined spaces when an early-morning thunderstorm warns them to seek shelter. Or the cat, years ago, that pressed itself into the far corners of a closet until it could recover from a fight — the cat we rescued because the owners had declawed it but then left it outdoors to fend for itself.

Like those animals, I seek quiet as I grow older. More yoga, more reading, more breathwork, more stillness. I instinctively retreat from the strivings and drama of my youth — the aspirations at work, the loud, noisy parties, the exhilarating but exhausting relationships. Energy diminishes as we age, and I conserve mine for what matters most. For whatever appeals to me now.