Jane Fonda has spoken openly about how her father, Henry, died miserably, filled with regrets and bitterness.
She contends that reconciling your past is a way around that bitter fate. Easier said than done.
Studies on end-of-life well-being consistently show that the things that haunt us at the end of our lives aren’t what we did, but what we never acknowledge. Apologies we resisted and grudges we can’t give up on.
Reflection is a part-time job when you get older. If blessed with a longer life, you’re forced to look back on more years of choices, decisions, and words left said (and unsaid).
Erik Erikson calls this final stage of life a confrontation between integrity and despair.
You either make peace with your story, or you don’t. The people who can confront the past tend to live better and, yes, may even die “happy.” If not smiling, then more fulfilled and self-assured.
When I turned 70, I started writing stories from my life with an honesty I didn’t always practice when I was living them. One hundred stories in, I got to know myself better.
A dose of self-knowledge can be a gold mine.
What kept surfacing is how I’ve been in a big hurry my entire life. I suspect I am not alone in this.
There’s been real payoffs— impatient ambition allowed me to start successful companies, fulfill dreams, create a family, and see the world. But there are consequences. At times, I pushed too hard, tested limits, and broke some things.
I wouldn’t change much of it. But I’m more clear-eyed now about the cost — and there’s still time to do better.
I recently heard the novelist Amy Tan speak about her book The Backyard Bird Chronicles and how observing and sketching birds gave her a similar pause for reflection and gratitude. I recognize something in that.
Reflection can take the form of confession. Both share the same impulse — admit the truth, write it down or say it out loud, whether to another person or into the air, and release the weight you’ve been carrying.
It must do something. My father was not a religious man, but when he turned 80, he began praying for people from his past, like our chatty neighbor Mr. Mowery.
My dad’s prayers weren’t a dramatic reckoning. They were just the acts of a man in his eighties giving a few minutes of grace to someone from his past.
The idea isn’t to have lived a perfect life. The trick is to develop a new perspective and resist the urge to see the end as a tragic grind.
The final chapters don’t have to be grim. You write them.
Jim Inman
Brad Inman is the founder of Livelong Media
How did you enjoy today's newsletter?
The information provided about wellness and health is for general informational and educational purposes only. We are not licensed medical professionals, and the content here should not be considered medical advice. Talk to a doctor before trying any of these suggestions.
