I recently came across a book called The Swedish Art of Aging Exuberantly by Margareta Magnusson.
Full disclosure, I’m only partially through the book, so the jury is still out—but the title made me smile.
“Exuberantly” isn’t a word we use every day. It simply means living with joy, enthusiasm, and an openness to whatever comes next.
How does that play out in real life? It means always learning. Finding reasons to laugh. Looking forward instead of only looking back. It means refusing to let age define the size of your life.
The more I thought about that word, the more I liked it. What a wonderful way to think about growing older.
I’ve never seen the word “exuberance” connected with aging. Our society spends a great deal of time celebrating youth, as though enthusiasm, curiosity, and adventure have an expiration date. We hear far more about what growing older takes away than what it gives us.
The author of this book saw things differently.
Magnusson wrote this book in her late eighties. She doesn’t pretend aging is easy. She writes honestly about losing friends, forgetting things from time to time, and living in a body that no longer responds the way it once did. But there is no bitterness in her words. No longing to be thirty again.
Instead, she writes about something much richer. She writes about freedom.
As the years pass, something remarkable begins to happen if we’re willing to let it.
We become a little less concerned with impressing people, about fitting in, about saying “no” without guilt and “yes” to the things that truly matter.
The need to prove ourselves slowly fades, and we begin to appreciate ourselves a little more and compare ourselves a little less.
That is one of aging’s greatest gifts.
Poet John O’Donohue wrote, “Aging can be a lovely time of ripening when you actually meet yourself, indeed maybe for the first time.”
What a beautiful thought.
For much of our younger lives we’re busy becoming who we think we’re supposed to be—building careers, raising families, and trying to keep up with a world that always seems to be moving faster.
Then one day we realize something. We don’t have to keep up. We simply have to keep (or start) living.
Exuberance has no retirement age. You don’t stop wondering. You don’t stop discovering.
There is something inspiring about remaining interested in tomorrow.
I’ve known people in their eighties who learned to use FaceTime just to read bedtime stories to their great-grandchildren. Others have taken up watercolor painting, joined a hiking club, volunteered in their community, written family histories, or learned to play the piano.
Growing older doesn’t have to mean growing smaller.
And the good news is, more often than not, exuberance is found in simple things.
Like ordinary moments lived fully—a walk with someone you love, coffee with an old friend, a new book, a grandchild’s laugh, watching a sunrise, or simply waking up grateful for another day.
After all, growing older is not something everyone gets to do.
Some of life’s greatest teachers are the people we wish were still beside us. Their absence reminds us that every additional year is a gift, and that growing older is one of life’s greatest privileges.
The goal is not to stay young—it’s to become ourselves fully without pretending, and without apologizing.
We should greet each new season with gratitude instead of regret; curiosity instead of fear; and hope instead of hesitation.
Which brings me to one of my favorite questions, asked by the poet Mary Oliver:
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
I wonder if Margareta Magnusson has already given us the simple answer:
“Live it exuberantly.”
