Why did this happen? We’ve built an economy that measures human value by GDP contribution. We’ve segregated elders into communities that relieve stress on the working population—but isolate wisdom from those who need it most. And let’s be honest: our death-denying culture finds it easier to sideline the aging than confront our own mortality.

These factors that diminish the active role of elders in society, are the forces that rob the elders of meaning, purpose, and “mattering.” No wonder we have an epidemic of loneliness and insignificance among retirees. 

Changing the culture’s view of elders is a long-term project. 

Here’s the good news: we don’t have to wait for culture to change. We can reclaim the elder role right now, within our own circles. The question isn’t whether society values us; it’s whether we’ll embody the wisdom keeper role anyway.

Embodying the role of elder within our own tribe is the key to unlock the experience of being fulfilled in our third act, so the first shift is to reclaim that role for yourself. Determining to live out our role as an elder, a wisdom keeper, is the first step.

You might be thinking, “My grandkids and more enthralled with TikTok than any bit of elder wisdom I might offer.” 

The second step is to listen. In particular, pay close attention to their struggles and frustrations. When you listen, you may be tempted to provide answers, but take a pause. You naturally want to pass on your hard-earned lessons, but refrain. Instead, ask questions that demonstrate interest and compassion. Listening is your elder superpower. Your attentive presence is life-giving.

Once you’re fully immersed in their world, you can share your experience as empathy—using what salespeople call the ‘feel-felt-found formula’ (though I prefer to stop at the first two parts). You share a similar time when you’ve experienced a similar frustration or struggle.

The temptation is strong to dive right into ‘Here’s what I found.’ Resist it. A Buddhist saying tells us, ‘When the student is ready, the teacher miraculously appears.’ My corollary: ‘When you become the teacher before the student is ready, you appear as an ass.’ 

The most challenging idea in my storytelling framework is this: it’s not your accomplishments and insight that make your story compelling, but your struggles and even your failures. This is what makes your message appealing and empowering to your heirs. Accomplishments inspire envy; scars inspire change—because everyone has them.

Since ancient times, the elders passed on their wisdom through stories. But the most important aspect of your role as an elder is listening patiently and actively. Listening is also the master-key to great storytelling, because the great mystery is that the story is actually told in the mind of the listener.

Have you ever heard of 6-word storytelling? It demonstrates this principle that the story is told in the mind of the listener. Ernest Hemingway delivered a 6-word story in the form of a classified ad:

“Baby shoes for sale; never worn.”

Do you see how your mind puts that whole story together?

When you listen to your grandkids and share stories of your own similar struggles (without offering the answer), they will put it together that you just might have some valuable answers.

The real “answer,” of course, is being heard, being seen, and being known. You’ve provided that.

So let go of the finish-line fallacy. The third act isn’t about winding down—it’s about becoming who you were always meant to be: the elder in the room, the keeper of hard-won wisdom, the one who knows that listening is the greatest gift we can give.

Your grandest adventure is just beginning.

Shine,