​I would like to reshare a post from the site below that is relevant for the time that we are living in: www.facebook.com/BuddhismPageFB

A man once asked an old Buddhist monk:
“How can I allow myself to feel peace or happiness when the world is full of suffering, injustice, pain, and chaos?”
The monk looked at him quietly and asked: “If your house was dark…would you refuse to light a candle because the whole world is not yet bright?”

The man stood silent.
The monk continued: “The suffering of the world is real. But if you destroy your own peace completely, you only create one more exhausted and hopeless human being.”

The man replied, “But isn’t being happy selfish when others are suffering?”
The monk smiled gently. “A drowning person cannot save another drowning person. Peaceful people heal more than broken people consumed by despair.”Then the monk pointed to a pond nearby. “When the water is disturbed, it cannot reflect clearly. But when it becomes still, everything becomes visible.”

He looked back at the man and said: “The same is true for the mind. A restless mind reacts with fear, anger, and hopelessness. A peaceful mind responds with wisdom, compassion, and clarity.”

The man lowered his head and whispered, “But the world still feels so heavy.”
The monk nodded. “Yes. And that is why your peace matters even more.”
Then he added softly: “Do not carry the pain of the entire world in one heart.
Instead…Be kind where you are. Help where you can. Speak gently. Reduce suffering around you, even in small ways. A single candle cannot remove all darkness…but it still changes the room it enters.”

In Buddhism, happiness is not ignoring suffering.
It is learning how to remain compassionate
without letting the suffering of the world destroy your spirit completely.

The monk smiled one last time and said: “Protect your inner peace.
The world needs more calm hearts, not more broken minds.”

For steps in (re)creating connection and communiation in relationships:
www.coachmyrna.org/blog/category/begin-anew-4-steps

We teach our children to read, write, clean-up after themselves, and how to behave as best we can. But we don’t always teach the things that protect their confidence, boundaries, and self-worth--some of the areas that people struggle with most in adulthood.

• Being able to say clearly and respectfully, “I don’t like that" is empowering.
• “I feel ___ right now.” Learning to dentify and name feelings develops greater self-awareness.
• Enabling a child to learn to trust their instincts strengthens their inner voice. Support them in saying, “That doesn’t feel right to me."
• Learning to pause and digest instead of reacting by saying, “Can I have a minute?”
• “Can you help me?” Asking for help is strength, not weakness.
• Learning to make mistakes helps identify that they are part of the learning process. Saying, “I made a mistake. I’ll try again" minimizes guilt and shame and instills the message that mistakes don’t define me.
• Being able to say, “I’m going to go play somewhere else" gives a child the power to walk away from disrespect.
• “I’m sorry. Can we fix this?” Repair matters more than being right.
• Kindness doesn’t mean people-pleasing. “I want to help, but I can’t right now.”
• “I don’t agree, but I’ll be respectful.” You can disagree without being unkind.

Being intentional in creating a family culture that supports greater self-awareness, relationship skills, confidence in their self-worth, and the inner compass that will serve them their whole life is foundational. For ideas about how to include this in your family, consider having regular family meetings: 
​making-family-a-priority.html  

The reality is that a lot of us are still learning to include these basic skills at 30, 40, or even 70 or 80. It is never too late to discover better ways of relating and connecting in heart with those that we care about and supporting our own feelings of self-worth. It begins with awareness and acknowledging that there are areas in my life that I would like to improve and pick one from the above list to get started. Get curious about how your relationships could become better. Ask more questions of others. Read books and practice incorporating these phrases into your life.

If you are a parent of young children or planning to have children, I recommend reading my book, 7 Gifts to Give Your Child. 

In her book, “The Conscious Parent—Transforming Ourselves, Empowering Our Children,” Dr. Shefali Tsabary says that to be more effective in relating to our children, we need to be willing to face and resolve issues in ourselves that come from the way we were parented. She states that, “In fact, it’s my experience that the relationship between parent and child exists for the primary purpose of the parent’s transformation and only secondarily for the raising of the child.”

​Think for a moment about a recent time that you were triggered by something that your child did or said. If you are not familiar with the term, getting triggered is an intense physical or emotional reaction to an event or interaction. Maybe your reaction comes from your two-year-old refusing to get in her car seat after a particularly stressful outing to the grocery store. Perhaps it comes when your preteen screams, “I hate you, you never understand me” or your young adult child returns your car on empty or forgets your birthday.

Regardless of the cause, the reality is that the things that trigger us almost always connect back to wounds and unmet needs of our inner child. Instead of blaming our children for our emotional reactions, we can use this opportunity to recognize that we are uncovering or awakening something in ourselves that needs our attention as I wrote about in my blog a few years ago.   www.coachmyrna.org/coachmyrna-blog/triggers-and-awakenings
​
I remember the privilege of helping my son and daughter-in-law when they became first-time parents.  It was amazing to be able to support them as they discovered all the joys and challenges of caring for a newborn.  However, at one point, I found myself becoming angry and at first, I couldn’t figure out why.  As I examined my emotions, I realized that it had to do with not feeling valued or appreciated.  Could it be that I was jealous of all the attention that this beautiful child was getting? If so, where is that coming from?

​As I explored more deeply, I realized that this was an opportunity to revisit a book that I had been reading, “Recovering Your Inner Child.” Author Dr. Lucia Capacchione says, “Without awareness, we automatically repeat the kind of parenting we received as children…However, if we do not like the way we were parented, we do have a choice. We can change. We can re-parent ourselves…Recovery of your Inner Child is the way to begin anew and heal your life.”

If you are intrigue to explore this topic more, I encourage you to:

• Check out Dr. Capacchione’s book: www.amazon.com/Recovery-Your-Inner-Child-Liberating/dp/0671701355
• Watch a short video about Dr. Tsabary’s book www.youtube.com/watch?v=rX1j-h2nzjU
• Watch/rewatch the movie “Big” starring Tom Hanks
• Go for a walk with your child/grandchild or by yourself and pay attention to the amazing colors, shapes and textures right in your own neighborhood
• Channel your inner artist by getting out crayons, colored pencils, markers, etc. and draw whatever comes to mind.  Try keeping these art supplies available and find ways to revisit them regularly
• Pay attention when you get “triggered” and use these opportunities to see what is being awakened or uncovered

 
“Healing happens when we open the door and invite the Inner Child to come out and be a part of our lives.”  Dr. Capacchione

In a recent interview NASA astronaut Christina Koch shared a powerful reflection on what she learned about being part of a crew. Koch said, “A crew is a group that is in it all the time, no matter what, that is stroking together every minute with the same purpose, that is willing to sacrifice silently for each other, that gives grace, that holds accountable. A crew has the same cares and the same needs, and a crew is inescapably, beautifully, dutifully linked.” She concluded with, “I know I haven’t learned everything that this journey has yet to teach me. But there’s one new thing I know, and that is planet Earth: You are a crew.” Ok, what does this mean for you and me?

It seems to me that these are some of the key take-aways:

• Shared purpose & unity: Like a crew traveling through space, we are all in this together. Our lives are intertwined, and whether we realize it or not, we share the same basic needs and the same future.
• Interdependence & accountability: Being part of a crew means none of us can go it alone. Our choices affect one another, and we’re responsible not just for ourselves, but for how we support and care for those around us.
• Perspective from space: When Earth is seen from afar—as in the NASA image—it becomes clear how small and precious our home is. Borders disappear, and what remains is a single, fragile lifeboat carrying all of us.
• Collective action: This image feels like an invitation to care more deeply for our planet and for one another, knowing we’re all riding on the same vessel through an uncertain universe.
• Moving past differences: It calls us to soften our divisions, meet each other with grace, and choose collaboration over conflict, remembering that our shared goals matter more than what separates us.

While these are great ideals, what we need to do is choose our next action step. Maybe it is to talk to and really listen to someone in our family or community that we have different ways of viewing life. Get curious and ask questions to understand why that person thinks that way. Find common ground--things that you both care about, like your grandkids, nieces, or nephews. Begin asking for help and advise. Find ways to connect with and meet new people. Look for ways to interact, engage with others, and get involved with your community. 

In the words of Margaret Mead, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."

Read this blogpost for more ideas:
5-keys-to-deeper-connection.html
For some recommended books to support you:
choose-growth6540845.html
Link to the interview: youtu.be/59ccesBAOv0?si=D0aBZNoSnvobpyjC

Parenting and grandparenting for both attachment and authenticity isn’t about choosing one over the other — it’s about creating safety and space at the same time. Attachment gives your child security; authenticity gives them identity. When both are supported, your child feels, “I belong” and “I can be myself.” Let's explore how fostering both can be built into our daily routine.

1. Build connection first: Children thrive when caregivers are consistently responsive and emotionally available. This means noticing feelings, responding with warmth, and repairing after conflict. When a child feels safe, they don’t have to sacrifice themselves to keep your love. They internalize: Even when I mess up or disagree, I’m still connected.

2. Separate behavior from identity: To protect authenticity, correct actions without shaming the child’s character. Instead of “You’re rude,” try “That comment hurt your sister — let’s try again.” This teaches accountability without implying their core self is flawed. When children feel their worth isn’t conditional on performance or agreement, they’re more likely to express their real thoughts and preferences.

3. Model and teach "Like Yourself First": The best way to teach through parenting is to model that same behavior to which we aspire. We cannot preach what we don’t practice. Notice your language and actions about who you are and how you show up. Suppose your child asks, “Do you think my teacher will like my shirt today?” Remind him/her that it was most important that they like her own shirt. Other people’s opinions of us cannot help to build or shatter our own opinions of ourselves.

4. Don’t force them: This can be challenging, especially when you know what needs to be done. Share your request, let them know the consequences, and then let your child decide what they will follow through on. This advice applies to situations like not wanting to eat what’s for lunch or wanting a cookie just before dinner. It might look like this (depending on the age of the child), "I see that you are upset that I said no to having a cookie. We will eat soon and there are some carrots for now and we can have a cookie after dinner." (This obviously does not apply to immediate physical safety concerns, like a toddler running into the road.)

5. Encourage emotional literacy: Help them name what they feel — even feelings that are inconvenient for you. “You’re angry I said no,” validates experience without giving in. When children learn that their inner world matters, they don’t need to distort it to stay connected. Emotional validation strengthens attachment while reinforcing authenticity. There are some great charts that can help kids and adults identify emotions and feelings.
www.amazon.com/Teacher-Created-Resources-Colorful-Emotions/dp/B09B231SQC
www.amazon.com/Feelings-Therapy-Diameter-Emotion-Upgrade/dp/B0DR362TP2

​6. Listen, don’t argue: If you argue with your child, you give power to their position. You engage in stubbornness, which will just take you through a stressful experience. Listen to what your child has to say, without defending or refuting. This is also good advice for spouses and friends.

7. Welcome differences — don’t personalize them: Authenticity grows when kids can safely disagree. If your child has different interests, beliefs, or emotional reactions than you, treat that as development, not defiance. You might say, “I see it differently, but I’m glad you told me.” This protects attachment while signaling that individuality won’t threaten the relationship. The message becomes: We can stay close even when we’re not the same.

8. Give them options: Stubbornness often arises in times of life when children are developing more autonomy. They need choices. They need to know they have power to act in their own lives. So, give them the chance to choose. The choices can even be narrow, depending on the situation: “You can do this in 5 minutes or 10, which one do you prefer?”

9. Model authenticity yourself.
Children learn more from observation than instruction. If you admit mistakes, express your feelings appropriately, and set boundaries respectfully, you show them that being real and being loving are not opposites. You demonstrate that connection does not require losing oneself.

In short:

• Attachment says, “You are safe with me.”
• Authenticity says, “You are allowed to be you.”

The sweet spot in parenting and grandparenting is communicating both, repeatedly. When a child trusts that love is steady, they’re free to grow into who they truly are — and they won’t have to choose between belonging and being themselves.​

The Tug-of-War Between Us & We:   We all live in this quiet, constant tension between two of our deepest needs: attachment or connection and authenticity. On one hand, we are wired for connection. From the moment we’re born, we look to others for safety and belonging. On the other hand, we have an internal compass—that gut feeling that tells us who we really are and what we actually value. While one side pulls us toward others, the other pulls us toward ourselves.

When Love Gives You Wings:  When you feel truly secure in a relationship, these two forces actually work together. Think of it as having a "home base." When you know that your partner, friend, or parent has your back no matter what, you feel braver. You don’t have to "perform" or hide the messy parts of your personality because you aren't afraid they'll leave if you show your true colors. In these healthy spaces, being close to someone actually helps you grow into more of who you are, not less.

The Cost of Playing a Part:  But when we feel "shaky" or insecure, authenticity is usually the first thing we sacrifice. It’s a survival instinct:

• The People Pleaser: You might swallow your own opinions or hide your needs just to keep the peace, terrified that being "difficult" will drive people away.
• The Lone Wolf: You might pull away or shut down your emotions to protect your independence, thinking that being "real" makes you too vulnerable.

In both cases, we end up wearing a mask to keep the connection alive. But over time, that mask gets heavy. You might still be in the relationship, but you start to feel like a stranger to yourself.

The Big Picture: Healthy love shouldn't feel like a cage where you have to shrink yourself to fit. And being your true self shouldn't mean you have to walk alone. The goal isn't to choose one over the other; it’s to find that sweet spot where you stay connected not because you’re hiding, but because you’re finally being seen. Which side of this tug-of-war do you find yourself leaning toward more often—sacrificing your "truth" to stay close, or keeping your distance to stay "you"?

Join me on Saturday, April 18, 10 am PT/1 pm ET for Self-Care Isn't Selfish to discover how to strike a more healthy balance in your life with some practical exercises that will get you started. Register here to get the zoom link:  tinyurl.com/April-18-Self-Care 

Below is an exercise to get you started. And look for next week's blog  about applying this topic to parenting. Parenting for both attachment and authenticity isn’t about choosing one over the other — it’s about creating safety and space at the same time. 

Learn to Say “And” Instead of “Or”.
Instead of saying:
• “If I’m honest, they’ll leave.”
• “If I stay connected, I can’t be fully me.”

Practice saying:
• “I can be honest and kind.”
• “I can disagree and stay connected.”
• “I can need space and care about you.”

Try out this cognitive shift this week to reduce the false binary between attachment and authenticity.

Each year, millions of people travel to mediterranean countries for their unique beauty and rich history and architecture. Many visit the numerous churches, basilicas, monasteries, and mosques and I had the privilege to be one of those visitors. I was struck by the massiveness of the churches, the beauty in the mosaics, windows and other decorations, and the reverence that most of the visitors displayed in these historic places. Since these highly ornate places of worship are not part of my church experience, I was curious about the history behind them and how one experiences God in these various buildings. Here is what I discovered:

Churches in the Mediterranean are highly ornate to serve as "books in stone," capturing the history and stories of the past. Historically, this style is rooted in Byzantine wealth, which allowed for lavish ornamentation, and the theological goal of creating a "heaven on earth" designed for sensory worship. Ornamentation is considered a method of glorifying God and uplifting the human soul, following the tradition of building an elaborate temple.

The use of stained-glass windows was primarily to educate, inspire, and create a sacred atmosphere by transforming natural light into a visual, spiritual experience. Historically, these windows, as well as mosaics and other art forms, served as a "visual Bible" to teach religious stories to illiterate congregations. Stained glass lets in natural light; light represents purity, the heavens, spirituality, and genesis. These windows are not merely decorations; they are considered a form of "light theology" that turns a building into a sanctuary. 

The famous Catalan architect, Antoni Gaudi, who helped to create the Basilica de la Sagrada Família in Barcelona said, "Architecture is the arrangement of light...Glory is light, light brings joy, and joy is the joy of the spirit.”  A deeply religious architect who believed his work was a collaboration with the Creator, Gaudi famously stated, "The straight line belongs to Men, the curved one to God". His work, particularly the Sagrada Família, was driven by nature and spirituality, aiming to return to the origins of design.

Gaudi intended that church to be a "cathedral for the poor". He wanted the church to dignify the industrial workers of Barcelona and serve as a place of refuge for them, ultimately dedicating the final years of his life to this vision without receiving any payment for it. Our tour guide said that Gaudi asked the Pope for permission to build the cathedral and the Pope answered, "As long as you can pay for it." Some say that's why it has taken so long to complete; the great thing is that all the tourists who visit are helping to fund that completion. My experience while sitting in the Sagrada Familia was definitely one of connecting with God through light and beauty.

God spoke to me through music as well whether it was hearing the performance of "The Prayer" on the cruise ship entertainment or attending an evening concert of Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" enthusiastically performed by Interpreti Veneziani, a baroque string ensemble, in a beautiful former church in Vivaldi's hometown of Venice. For inspiration, listen to Céline Dion & Andrea Bocelli sing "The Prayer":  
www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8DGuvab_Lc 
and the Interpreti Veneziani play Vivaldi's "Four Seasons."
www.youtube.com/watch?v=INPf9XUlCwU

​Another highlight for me was experiencing God through many of the people that we met on this adventure. One of our guides was originally from Peru. Coming to Barcelona for college, he fell in love with the culture and history and discovered his passion for sharing it with others as a tour guide. It turns out that his mother was going to a university in California and he attended high school for a couple of years in Castro Valley, CA, a town near where I live. He truly made the history of Montserrat Monastery, near Barcelona, come alive as he told us of the monks hiding themselves and significant statues including the Black Madonna--Virgin of Montserrat in the nearby caves during numerous invasions and wars. It is still Catalonia's most important religious retreat and groups of young people from Barcelona and all over Catalonia often make overnight hikes to watch the sunrise from the heights of Montserrat. 

Food for thought: Whether I acknowledge the presence of the divine as God, Heavenly Parent, my Higher Power, or another name, do I take time to notice the light and truth quietly animating the world around me, and when I do, how do I respond? We do not have to travel to distant locations to experience God if we are intentional in looking at nature, people, places, and even challenges through the 'Divine Lens.'

Did you know that children who know details about their family history--where their parents and grandparents grew up, how they overcame difficulties, what their hopes and dreams were as a child or teenager, where certain family traditions came from, how their parents and grandparents met, what their first car or house was like--are emotionally healthier and happier? Dr. Marshall Duke and Dr. Robyn Fivush developed the “Do You Know…?” scale, sometimes called “The 20 Questions,” that tap into different kinds of family stories. The questions were designed as a starting point for sharing family stories and the result was that knowing about one's family history gave rootedness in something bigger than themselves. The process of families sharing stories about their lives provides bedrock upon which to build our own future. The links at the bottom of this blog give more details about the research.

As a child, I remember visiting my mother's parents in Doylestown, PA where my grandfather had a shoe store. My mother told me that in the beginning, my grandfather would buy shoes in Philadelphia and sell them out of the trunk of his car before he opened a store. I was impressed with his entrepreneurship! My father, as the youngest of ten children, became his family's historian and has authored several books that provide a rich history of where I come from. As a teenager, I enjoyed wearing bib overalls, much to the amusement of my father. I learned that he was eager to put wearing bib overalls behind him when he entered high school. As the youngest son of a farmer, it was a practical thing to wear and often, the clothes were handed down because times were hard during WW2. 

Whether you are a parent or a grandparent or even a beloved uncle or aunt, the children in your lives need to hear stories of where they came from.  Below are some questions to get you started in the family tradition of telling your stories.

• Do you know how your parents met?
• What traditions did they have growing up?
• What was their first job?
• What was their favorite vacation?
• What were they doing/where were they living when you were born?
• Why did they choose your name for you?
• Where did your grandparents meet?
• What kind of work did they do?
• What kind of car did they drive?
• Who in the family do you most look like?

Resources:
Dr. Marshall Duke at Emory University: www.youtube.com/watch?v=8jE_oaW-ezc
Dr. Robyn Fivush:  www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-stories-our-lives/201611/the-do-you-know-20-questions-about-family-stories

This anonymous story has been appearing on the internet and whether it is a true story or a created one, it holds food for thought for all of those who are approaching the 4th quarter of our lives--60+.

My son called the police because he thought I had been kidnapped. He was tracking my phone location, and when he saw the blue dot blinking in the middle of the University District at 2:00 AM on a Tuesday, he panicked. He screamed into the phone, "Dad! Who has you? Are you okay?" I laughed, taking a sip of cheap domestic beer. "Nobody has me, Robert. I’m just waiting for my turn at the microphone. They’re playing John Denver next."

My name is Frank. I am 74 years old. And three months ago, I committed the most beautiful act of insanity of my entire life. I sold my four-bedroom suburban house—the one with the manicured lawn and the homeowner’s association fees—and I moved into a run-down, three-bedroom apartment with three college students.

My family thought I had lost my mind. We sat down for a "crisis meeting" at a diner. My daughter-in-law, looking at me with that pitying gaze people reserve for toddlers and the senile, said, "Frank, be reasonable. This is a mid-life crisis, just thirty years too late." I looked her in the eye and said, "No, Karen. This isn’t a crisis of age. It’s a crisis of silence."

You see, in America, we don’t talk enough about the silence. After my wife, Sarah, passed away two years ago, that big house in the suburbs didn’t feel like an achievement anymore. It felt like a tomb. It was as large as a stadium and as quiet as a library on a Sunday morning. The silence wasn't peaceful; it was heavy. It sat on my chest. I would watch the dust motes dance in the afternoon sun and realize the only voice I’d heard in three days was the news anchor on the television. I was dying. Not from heart disease or diabetes, but from the quiet.

So, I put up the "For Sale" sign. I sold the riding mower, the formal dining set nobody sat at, and the China cabinet full of plates we never used. I packed two suitcases and answered an ad on a community board: “Roommate wanted. Must pay rent on time. No drama.” When I showed up at the door, the three kids—Jackson, Mia, and Leo—stared at me like I was a health inspector.

Jackson, a tall kid with messy hair and a hoodie, blinked. "Uh, sir? Are you... the landlord?" "No," I said, handing him a six-pack of craft soda. "I’m Frank. I’m the new roommate. And I promise my check clears faster than yours."

The first week was a culture shock. It was chaos. There was music thumping through the thin walls at midnight. There were shoes everywhere except the shoe rack. The kitchen sink looked like an archaeological dig site of dirty dishes from the Jurassic period. They were suspicious of me. On the first night, sitting in the living room on a couch that smelled vaguely of corn chips, Leo asked, "So, Frank... you got any... you know, issues? You gonna tell on us if we have people over?"

I leaned back. "Kids, I survived the seventies. I’ve seen things that would make your hair curl. Unless you’re building a bomb or hurting someone, I didn't see a thing. But if you leave a milk carton empty in the fridge, we’re going to have words." Slowly, the dynamic shifted. I realized I wasn’t just the "old guy." I was the Keeper of the Order and the Master of the Skillet.

These kids... they are so stressed. That’s something older folks don’t get. We think they’re lazy. They aren’t lazy; they are terrified. They are drowning in student loans, working gig jobs, and trying to pass classes. They eat instant noodles not because they love them, but because they cost fifty cents.

I decided to intervene. One Tuesday, Jackson came home from a double shift, looking like a ghost. I had a pot roast slow-cooking for six hours. The smell hit him the moment he walked in. Real food. Meat, potatoes, carrots, rosemary. "Sit," I commanded. He ate three plates in silence. When he looked up, he had tears in his eyes. "My mom used to make this," he whispered. That was the breaking point. I became the "House Pop."

I wake them up when they sleep through their alarms for 8:00 AM exams. I taught Mia how to negotiate her car repair bill so the mechanic didn't rip her off. I showed Leo that you can actually iron a shirt instead of buying a new one. In exchange, they dragged me into the 21st century. They taught me how to use the "tap to pay" on my phone so I don't hold up the line counting change. They installed a music app for me and made me a playlist called Frank’s Jams. They taught me that "bet" means "yes" and "cap" means "lie."

I used to think the younger generation was glued to their screens because they were antisocial. I was wrong. They are glued to them because they are searching for connection in a world that feels incredibly lonely.

One Friday night, they told me to put on my best shirt. "We’re going out, Frank. No excuses." They took me to a dive bar near campus. Sticky floors, neon lights, and a crowd of twenty-somethings. When we walked in, Mia shouted to the bouncer, "He’s with us! He’s the OG!"

"Don't worry," Jackson said, handing me a drink. "It’s karaoke night." I haven't sung in public since Sarah’s sister’s wedding in 1998. But the energy... it was infectious. The noise wasn't annoying; it was electricity. It was life. When they called my name, I walked up to the stage. I didn't choose a modern song. I chose John Denver, "Take Me Home, Country Roads."

I started shaky. But then I looked at the crowd. I saw Jackson, Mia, and Leo holding up their phones, grinning like idiots. I belted it out. “Country roads, take me home...” The whole bar—two hundred college kids—stopped drinking and started singing with me. They wrapped their arms around each other, swaying. For three minutes, there was no generation gap. There was no "Boomer" or "Zoomer." There was just us, singing about belonging. Someone filmed it. Apparently, I am now "viral" on the video app. It has 400,000 likes. The top comment says: “I miss my grandpa so much. This guy is the vibe.”

I pay my share of the rent. I do the dishes because I wake up earlier than everyone else. And once a week, I leave a hundred-dollar bill in the jar on the counter. I told them it’s for "Emergency Pizza Funds." They don't know that I know they use it to pay for textbooks.

My son still asks me when I’m going to move into a "sensible" senior living community. He talks about safety, about stairs, about blood pressure monitors. I tell him no. "But Dad," he asks, "Don't you miss the house? Don't you miss the memories?"

I look around the apartment. There’s a textbook on the floor. There’s a half-eaten bag of chips on the table. Someone is laughing in the other room about a bad date. "No," I tell him. "The house held my memories, Robert. But memories are looking backward. Here, I have the noise. I have the mess. I have the future."

I am 74 years old. My joints hurt when it rains, and I take three different pills in the morning. But tonight, we are making tacos, and Mia needs advice on her art project, and Jackson needs to learn how to tie a tie for an interview.

I am not busy dying anymore. I am too busy living. If you are sitting in a big, silent house, waiting for the phone to ring, waiting for permission to live... sell it. Find the noise. We aren't meant to fade away in the quiet. We are meant to sing "Country Roads" until our voices crack, surrounded by people who call us by our name, not our age.

If you would like to explore how to fully live the 4th quarter of your life, I recommend the book, "The Fourth Quarter of Your Life: Embracing What Matters Most" by Allen Hunt and Matthew Kelly.