By Marcie Martin
Community Contributor
Well, it’s official. In 2027, I’ll wave goodbye to my thirties.
According to popular culture, my forties will arrive bedazzled with an assortment of unavoidable rites of passage: the midlife crisis, for one. Research professor and bestselling author Brené Brown prefers the term midlife unraveling. I can’t decide which one sounds more reassuring.
Then there’s the so-called U-bend of life, the seven-year itch, and my personal favourite: the second adolescence.
Sounds like a party. Thank you for the invitation.
I try to live in the moment as much as I can, but every now and then, a little voice echoes out of the fog to remind me, “In ten years, you’ll be fifty.”
And that’s when the worries creep in. Will I have enough money to retire? Will I still be healthy? Will I be happy? Will I be okay? What about my friends? Will I be able to care for my parents?
Should I plan my own funeral now, just to make sure no one picks the wrong flower arrangement or playlist?
Who will I be?
Then, quite by accident, YouTube recommended a 71-year-old vlogger and BBC radio host named Jo Good.
She was bustling around London, chatting with new people, going on yoga retreats with friends, and wearing exactly what she pleased.
Now that was the kind of influence I could get behind.
She lived alone in a small one-bedroom flat with her English Bulldog, Myrtle, and didn’t seem particularly interested in worrying about getting older. Instead, she was living life on her own terms and doing it rather splendidly.
Watching Ms. Good, I realized I wasn’t envious of her wardrobe or her life in London. I was envious of her outlook. Every day seemed like an old friend arriving unexpectedly at the door, ready for another adventure.
What was her secret?
She once shared that her mother, a former yoga teacher, breathed herself out of life while resting in Savasana.
For those unfamiliar with yoga, Savasana—often called Corpse Pose—is the final resting posture, where practitioners lie still, quiet the mind, and let go. Some describe it as a gentle rehearsal for the final, unavoidable act of surrender.
It’s an image that stayed with me.
Sometimes, the algorithm gets it right.
Whether your next year or your next decade involves signing up for a pottery class at Sunbury Shores, tending a garden, practising sun salutations with complete strangers, ripping apart the latest book club pick, or watching Pathways to Stillness on CHCO TV, I hope you approach it with as much pizzazz as Ms. Good.
My own version of Ms. Good’s joie de vivre includes planning a trip to Japan with old friends, enrolling in herbalism school this fall, and perhaps even reading a romantasy novel. I’m not making any promises on that last one.
The party ends for all of us. The only way to enjoy it is to enjoy it.
