
By Katherine Schneider, Ph.D.
Around the time of my 77th birthday, I became aware that my life is in its fourth quarter and change is afoot. AI describes it as: The fourth quarter of life (typically ages 60–80+) is a time for reflection, intentional living, and purposeful aging, often focusing on legacy and enjoying newfound freedom. Aging well in this stage involves embracing opportunities, maintaining physical/mental health, and curating relationships to live intentionally rather than drifting, turning it into a “win”. Walk beside me and see if your experiences are similar to mine, or for a deeper dive, get a hold of The Fourth Quarter of Your Life: Embracing What Matters Most by Matthew Kelly and Allen R. Hunt.
I was fortunate to be able to decide to retire at age 55, and I launched into twenty years of serving on boards, writing four books, keeping a blog, and engaging in various access awareness activities. Near the end of this period, I realized I had reached maximal benefit in these efforts, and it was time to retire from being on boards and much of my activism. Folks asked me, “What are you going to do with your time?” And were willing to suggest worthy projects for me to take on. But I knew I needed to redirect my energy, not just switch causes.
I’m focusing on more tending and befriending, savoring the good stuff, settling my legacy, and sculpting my soul.
Friends who are developing disabilities turn to me for advice since I have 77 years of experience. Along with a cup of tea, we hash around the hard parts like asking for help and still feeling good about yourself, even if you’re less productive. Dispensing bits of wisdom and ideas from Tend to Your Spirit by Lepp has proved more useful than just handing them a book. Checking in by phone or email, forwarding encouraging posts, and sharing strength, hope, and experience takes time and energy, but is richly rewarding.
Savoring the good stuff has been aided by my year’s commitment to a gratitude journal. For example, I’m grateful for the varied soundtracks from my many recent birthday celebrations. They’ve ranged from Hindu chanting at an Indian restaurant to a bar full of strangers singing Happy Birthday when they saw my friends presenting me with a cake. I can take time to hunt down the animal poems listed in the April 17 Slow Down podcast instead of just saving them for later. Now is later!
My legacy is not just my charitable commitments, but also how I mentor younger folks in the community. If I agree to lead a workshop on access issues, I try to find a co-presenter or form a panel instead of just doing it myself.
Sculpting my soul has involved dealing with having less energy to be outwardly productive. Reading A Walk on the Beach by Joan Anderson reassures me that others have dealt with this reality and remained curious, joyful, and productive. Even my reading tastes have changed. I’m happier dipping into a fine book of poetry by Joyce Sutphen than trying to read Anna Karenina (weighing in at over 900 pages), even if it is a classic and I “should” read it. I quit after falling asleep over it numerous times. This illustrates a freedom I’m feeling now to say “no” or to quit on a project unless someone’s life depends on it, which it rarely does!
One of my areas of curiosity is what AI can do for me. I’ve had it edit work, draw pictures, and design coloring sheets for a group I lead. Pretty slick for a blind person to be able to design pictures for sighted friends’ birthday missives, etc.
I’m still sculpting my soul in the areas of patience (like with people condescending to me because I’m old and disabled). Letting go and letting God be in control doesn’t come easy for me.
To sum up this fourth quarter reality, so far, here’s a limerick I wrote, followed by CHATGPT’s version:
A lady turning 77 did opine
Turning older is mighty fine.
I can say no
Nap, or be on the go
And be both sharp and sweet like good wine. 🍷
When edited by CHATGPT, we get:
A lady upon turning seventy-seven did opine,
“Growing older is truly divine.
I can say no,
Nap or be on the go,
And be both sharp and sweet, like good wine.” 🍷
Katherine Schneider, Ph.D. (blind from birth) is a retired clinical psychologist living in Eau Claire, WI, with her tenth Seeing Eye dog. She has served on several boards, including the Eau Claire County Board, the Governor’s Committee for Persons with Disabilities, and the Benetech/Bookshare Board. In addition to numerous professional papers and articles, Katherine has published a memoir To the Left of Inspiration: Adventures in Living with Disabilities, a children’s book, Your Treasure Hunt: Disabilities and Finding Your Gold, and two books for seniors (half of whom will develop disabilities in later life), Occupying Aging: Delights, Disabilities and Daily Life, and Hope of the Crow: Tales of Occupying Aging.
She originated the Schneider Family Book Awards for children’s books with disability content through the American Library Association and an award for superior journalism about disability issues through the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism at Arizona State University.
Locally, Katherine started the Access Eau Claire fund through the Eau Claire Community Foundation to help non-profit organizations work toward full inclusion of people with disabilities. She’s a passionate advocate for access for all to the good things of life, like chocolate, puzzles, and thrillers. Subscribe to her blog http://kathiecomments.wordpress.com for details.