72 Years In: Things I Wish I’d Figured Out Sooner - The most important things in life

I turn 72 this week.

At this age, I’ve earned the right to be a little smug.

Not wise. Let’s not get carried away.

Just experienced enough to know that some of the things I was so certain about at 30

were spectacularly wrong.

Here’s what I’d tell my younger self:

On Health

I used to think fitness was about how I looked.

Now I measure success by whether I can get off the floor without sound effects.

Move every day. Not because you’re going to live forever; you’re not, but because the

alternative is being carried places, and I don’t do well as cargo.

And sleep.

I ignored it for decades like it was an optional software update.

Turns out, sleep is the operating system.

Protect it.

On Aging

Nobody tells you the best part of getting older:

You finally stop performing for an audience that wasn’t paying that much attention

anyway.

You lose some things. Speed. Hair. The ability to remember why you walked into the

room.

But you also lose something far more valuable:

The need to care what everyone thinks.

Excellent trade.

The world moves faster every year. My advice?

Don’t.

Slow down enough to actually notice the moment you’re standing in instead of worrying

about the next twenty.

On Family

I spent years thinking family meant showing up for the big moments.

Graduations. Weddings. Birthdays. Holidays.

Turns out, it’s mostly the little stuff.

The ride to the airport.

The phone call for no reason.

The “How are you really doing?”

The ordinary Tuesday that nobody takes a picture of.

Those are the moments you end up remembering.

On Love

I thought love was supposed to feel like fireworks.

It does.

But after 40 years, I’ve discovered it’s mostly choosing the same person on the boring

days.

The sick days.

The stressful days.

The “I’m right, and you’re wrong” days.

And the days when both of you know that neither one of you is particularly right.

Love isn't always fireworks.

Sometimes it's just someone who knows exactly how annoying you are and sticks

around anyway.

That's a pretty good definition of commitment.

On Empathy

I got this one wrong more times than I got it right.

Everyone is fighting something you can't see.

Including the person who is being difficult.

Especially that person.

Kindness isn't weakness. And it isn't charity.

It’s an investment that pays dividends you often never get to see.

A small act can change someone’s day.

Sometimes, it changes yours.

I've been on both sides.

Both are better than being the person who made someone else's day worse just

because you could.

There’s enough of that going around already.

On Forgiveness

Holding a grudge is like paying rent on a house you don’t live in anymore.

Stop paying the rent.

And while you’re at it, forgive your younger self.

They were doing the best he could with the information they had.

Some of that information was terrible.

But they didn't know that yet.

On Learning

Stay curious.

Every book I regret not reading, I regret specifically.

And almost every book I did read changed something.

Even the bad ones.

At 72, I still don't fully understand how Wi-Fi works, why cats behave like tiny dictators,

or what half my grandchildren are talking about.

I've made peace with all three.

You don't need to understand everything.

You just need to remain interested.

The day you think you’ve got life figured out is probably the day you’ve stopped paying

attention.

On Travel

Go.

Not someday.

Now.

While your knees still negotiate in good faith.

The places I've been have taught me more than most of my formal education.

And the trips I didn't take?

Those are the regrets.

Nobody lies awake at 72 wishing they had spent more time answering emails.

On Humor

Don't take yourself, or life, quite so seriously.

Find the funny.

Especially when the joke is you.

I used to think a positive attitude was something you either had or didn't have.

Now I think it's more like a muscle.

You use it.

You strengthen it.

And occasionally, you forget to use it and become an insufferable human being for a

while.

I’ve had plenty of practice.

So that's 72 years, condensed into a few paragraphs. Not bad for someone who once thought 30 was old. If I’ve learned anything, it’s this:

Take care of your body. Protect your relationships. Stay curious. Forgive quickly.

Laugh often. And don't postpone the good stuff.

Because eventually, “someday” becomes “I wish I had.”

And apparently, 72 is old enough to know the difference.

See you next year.

I’ll have more wisdom by then.

And, almost certainly, more complaints.

John