In our earlier rite of passage, we thanked our teachers, the unsung heroes who guided us, challenged us, and sometimes barely tolerated our teenage angst. In elderhood, our gratitude deepens as we recognize the mentors, family, friends, and even the random strangers who imparted valuable lessons. Each person we’ve encountered has been a chapter in our story, contributing to the wisdom we now hold.

Ever find yourself strolling down memory lane only to trip over the occasional briars of "Oops!"? Welcome to the club. We all have those moments where we glance back and think, "Did I really do that?" or "What was I thinking?" of just “groan….” It's like finding a forgotten garden of mistakes, each one a prickly reminder of our wonderfully imperfect human journey.

June 15th is the World Elder Abuse Awareness Day. What a sorry state of affairs when the UN has had to make this a pillar of the Decade of Healthy Aging. Like all forms of domestic violence, elder abuse is often hidden, growing silently in the shadows. Elder abuse can take many forms: physical, emotional, or financial. It’s a gut-wrenching reality that many older adults face such abuse at the hands of those they trust most.

As we step into our third chapter, we have the opportunity to embrace our croning and embody the wisdom, strength, and confidence that come with our age. We are the queens of our own lives, ruling with grace, wisdom, and—oh yes!—a touch of sass. Getting beach-ready is about celebrating this incredible journey and embracing the powerful women we have become.

What does it take to cultivate intergenerational connections? Engage! Move around spaces and groups that naturally attract different people. Challenge yourself! Listen to podcasts or music that spotlight views and inspiration from other age groups. Be curious! Ask people their opinions and listen to understand, not to inform, correct, or fix. Extra points for crossing multiple groups.

How does someone like that disconnect from those roles and retool her life? It may take a little time to develop the new shape, size, and scope of her third chapter. I have no doubt she will, because she has a key asset to help her—a strong sense of humor.

It’s high time to reflect on and use language in a way that doesn’t unintentionally suppress women of any age, but of crones in particular. I can hear eyeballs rolling from those who warn of yet another shard of political correctness. Suck it up, buttercup.

Social isolation, we’re told, is the new smoking. The health risks associated with isolation include both physical and mental dimensions such as high blood pressure, heart disease, weaker immune systems, anxiety, depression, and  cognitive decline. Yikes. Researchers see a growing rate of elders who suffer from one or more of these conditions which they link to the increase of elder isolation.

Retirement planning is for living; inheritance is after death. What’s up with this? Is my NPR station really equating retirement for death? Are their listeners so delicate that they can only manage thinking about not working anymore, but can’t handle the finiteness of life?

Women’s voices have often risen above din to warn us and to offer alternative ways of policy and action.

Liminal resonates with me. Maybe because I’m part of Generation Jones, or because I have lived outside my home country for the majority of my life, or because I am croning—a significant state of transition.

Society has given me so many labels that I feel like I’m wearing a Formula One jumpsuit. Instead of sponsors contributing substantial sums, the labels I wear are assigned to me, like: senior, old, outdated, retired, spinster, weird, aged, and more.

Ageism’s cloak of invisibility has a breadth of negative economic, political, social and mental health consequences.

Age has given me a fresh perspective. Now I can wrap those earlier me’s in a loving hug and thank them for their lessons, their experience, and their courage which carried us onwards. I forgive them for having believed the lies which caused so much depression, fear, and negativity.

The incomparable Sophia Loren shows us just how juicy we can age.

What could be more exciting, more – dare I say it? – pregnant with possibilities than cultivating a meaningful, joyful, and aligned life into our third chapter? I have a few ideas.

What is up with a culture that spends billions on living longer and then shames those who live longer because they are no longer young or youthful?