Reflections on Mindful Ageing and the Joy of Letting Go
I have been contemplating ageing lately. It’s perhaps not surprising, given that I am now 68. When I look in the mirror, I don’t always recognise the face looking back as the one I had ten, twenty, or thirty years ago. Yet, in a way that is hard to describe, I feel exactly the same deep inside.
While the reflection has changed, the internal landscape has shifted for the better. When I look back at my younger selves, I realise that many of the old hurts, frustrations, and fears have begun to dissipate. Some have vanished entirely; others remain only as faint echoes. Thanks to my practice of mindfulness and compassion, alongside the rhythmic movements of qigong, tai chi, and yoga, I no longer carry the same heavy depths of pain I once did.
Ageing mindfully and compassionately is, of course, a work in progress. I have made peace with the wrinkles and the inevitable pull of gravity, but I still feel a spark of resistance when my body refuses to do what I want it to do. There are moments of stiffness and unexpected aches that remind me I am not quite as limitless as I once felt.
However, that same body still carries a spark of adventure. Every morning, unless the waves are truly daunting, I head to the beach to swim. I do this all year round. In the depths of winter, when the water is a biting 6 degrees, I might only manage five minutes of immersion. But now, in the height of summer, with the water at a (relatively) balmy 17 degrees, I can comfortably lose myself in the sea for forty minutes or more.
Interestingly, I didn’t start sea swimming until my sixties, but it has become essential for my mental wellbeing. It is perhaps my most mindful activity; when I am in the water, the rest of the world simply falls away. My only thoughts are of the rhythm of my stroke, the occasional fear of a jellyfish, or the power of a large wave.
For the fourth consecutive year, I completed the 1000m swim in the Whitby regatta. Looking back, I feel such relief that the competitiveness of my youth has been replaced by pure joy. There is something deeply grounding about swimming from point A to point B, surrounded by kayaks and fellow swimmers, watching the sea birds overhead and the coastline stretching out beside me. It is a practice of immense gratitude.
A friend recently asked me about my “bucket list,” and I realised I don’t really have one anymore. In this stage of life, letting go has become far more important than grasping for more.
I have fulfilled lifelong dreams of living by the sea and owning a campervan; those felt like some of the final “drops” in my bucket. Now, I find I have no compulsion to board a plane for hours on end just to be somewhere else. Instead, I am curating a different kind of list—a “letting go and letting be” list. This feels much more in keeping with the essence of my practice.
I am learning that it is never too late to give more time to mindfulness, or to engage in activities that spark genuine joy. One of my favourite tools for this is a practice created by Rick Hanson called “Taking in the Good” (Try it out here).
The practice is simple but transformative: when you notice a small moment of joy, you focus on it for just twenty seconds. By allowing that feeling to linger—absorbing it into your body and being—you begin to hardwire your brain for happiness. I see this often in a woman I meet on the beach; she is in her sixties, a sea swimmer and paddleboarder who oozes a vibrant, smiling happiness. She is a reminder that maturing is an opportunity to embrace new things that make us feel alive.
Our “tricky minds” often want us to focus on what is “wrong”—the wrinkles, the aches, and the limitations. But what if we chose to focus on the positive instead?
One of the greatest gifts of age is wisdom. We have five or six decades of navigated lessons, knowledge, and understanding behind us. Our practice allows us to be present in each precious moment and to have deep compassion for the human beings we have become, challenges and all.
It is never too late to begin a new habit, to start a new practice, or to change your focus.
It is never too late to take in the good.
Watch out for new course – Mindful Ageing 2027, and also Living Well to Die Well.