A Sixty-Something Perspective
At sixty-something, I think about the purpose of life almost daily. As with most of us, my perspective has grown as I've aged. Thank goodness!
There was a time in my youth when I wanted—no, needed—to be heard.
I found myself passionately debating, sharing my opinions at every opportunity, eager to ensure my voice carried weight in conversations.
Upon reviewing my 30s, life seemed like a stage, and I was determined to make my performance known. My perspective felt vital as if the world would falter without it. Who knows, maybe this is why I started writing poetry at eight years old?
But somewhere along the way, as the years turned into decades, I realized something profound: the less I needed to be heard, the more I truly understood.
My Voice at Thirty-Something
Like most people in their 30s, I was a whirlwind of energy. Raising children, navigating a career, managing relationships—it all demanded a level of assertiveness that often translated into an urgency to express my opinions.
I believed my perspective mattered, and I often thought it was my duty to guide those around me.
Looking back, I can't fault myself for that stage of life. It was necessary. I was learning who I was, carving out a space in a noisy world.
But with that stage came the frustration of not always being understood, the exhaustion of trying to convince others, and the endless cycle of expressing, explaining, and defending my views.
At the time, it felt like a need—to assert, to advise, to warn.
Today, I see that same drive in the younger generation, and it makes me smile. They are precisely where they need to be, and I'm learning to let them be.
Learning to "Let Them"
As I grew older, I stumbled upon a powerful shift in perspective: the "Let Them Theory."
Although this book is relatively new, I had been implementing this concept for over a decade without knowing what it was. You can find the book "The Let Them Theory" here.
I began to see that people, much like my younger self, need to navigate their own paths.
This is the hardest to implement as a mother, no matter our age. I'm currently in my mid-60s, and speaking from a mom's point of view, it isn't easy, but 'letting things be' gets easier with practice and faith in those you love.
Faith that they'll learn and grow, just like I did. And when they're in their mid-60s, they may feel similar.
They need to make mistakes, enjoy triumphs, and learn from their own experiences. No amount of advice—however well-intentioned—can replace the wisdom that life imparts.
This doesn't mean I don't care or have nothing to offer.
Quite the opposite. It means I've learned the value of strategic silence. As I passive-aggressively, put this part in bold! LOL!
I've come to understand that advice is best offered when it is sought. Unsolicited guidance, no matter how insightful, often falls on deaf ears.
By letting people grow their way, I've given myself the gift of peace—a reprieve from the need to control or direct.
The Freedom of Being an Observer
Stepping back into the role of observer has been one of the most freeing experiences of my life, but it has also been one of the most challenging.
Observing doesn't mean disengaging or becoming indifferent. It means watching with love, offering support when asked, and resisting the urge to intervene unnecessarily.
This shift wasn't easy at first.
I had to quiet the voice in my head that wanted to fix, explain, and prevent mistakes. But as I practiced "letting them," I discovered that my own life became lighter.
The trappings of division—the need to be right, to convince, to be validated—began to fade. In their place was a sense of serenity and acceptance.
It's not about compromising my beliefs or moral compass. I still hold strong convictions and am willing to stand by them.
But I've learned that not every battle needs to be fought. The secret in that old cliche says it well, 'pick and choose your battles.'
Sometimes, the greatest act of love is to allow others to find their own way. It's not always easy to do this, but implementing The Let Them Theory on smaller issues has helped me manage larger ones.
When You No Longer Need to Be Heard
Strangely enough, as I've stepped back, people have leaned in. But this was never the goal.
The beauty of no longer needing to be heard lies in the peace it brings, not in the attention it attracts.
In an increasingly noisy world, even the quiet observer can make an impact simply by being present, attentive, and calm. I work on this daily.
By no longer needing to be heard, I've let my actions, choices, and the things I do in life speak for me.
My actions have become my voice, though I don't purposefully do specific things to make a statement.
Instead, I live my truth as best I can—with love, kindness, and a touch of daily grace. It's not perfection—just an honest, imperfect effort.
Love at the Core
At the heart of this life's journey is love. Love for my family, my friends, and humanity as a whole.
I've learned to step back, even when it's hard because I know that growth is personal and unique to each, especially my grown kids.
As I reflect on life from this vantage point, I'm reminded that when the time comes for my final breaths, I won't dwell on the arguments I won or the opinions I voiced.
What will matter is the love I gave, the support I offered, and the understanding I nurtured.
In the end, it's all about love. As I held my mother's hand as she left this world, I can speak from experience that, in fact, loving her and being her child was my greatest gift.
So, to anyone reading this, consider stepping back when you think it's best and just observe, love, and let them.
When you no longer need to be heard, you'll hear the world a bit more clearly, and your actions will become your voice.
The learning continues.
