Life promises us nothing except the numbers we call our age — I turned 65 last week. Life’s beauty is a retrospective experience that drifts gently with age in its own time from material to personal meaning. Is that what Lloyd Wright means by the beauty in life? My generation is different to previous ones where reaching 65 meant compulsory retirement, and few if any expectations beyond that. So I’ll keep investing in the beauty in life for as long as time allows me, reminding myself that while 65 might be the old age of youth, it’s also the youth of old age.

Source: Irish Examiner March 21, 2026 02:30 UTC