A couple of weeks ago Thom and I drove to our house in Southern California that we had called “home” for sixteen years. Even though we called that property home, we actually lived in Tucson, AZ for the last three winters while renting that “former home” temporarily. Then after that we only ended up staying there for a few days on and off the rest of the year. However, after straddling both homes for three years, we decided it was time to make the decision to pick one over the other. And in spite of the fact that the one in So Cal was over twice as big (plus a two-car garage) as the one in Tucson, we chose to permanently make our tiny home in Tucson our residence for the foreseeable future.
About fifteen years ago my husband Thom and I began using the word “rightsize” to describe the lifestyle that we started practicing. At the time, we felt a strong motivation to create a more simple and minimal existence. So that led us to taking the popular step that many people refer to as “downsizing.” We didn’t need such a big house and certainly didn’t need all the stuff that we had accumulated over the years. But rather than calling it downsizing (which implies sacrifice) we decided to call it “rightsizing”. Rather than a focus on giving up things, we took steps to eliminate everything that wasn’t adding joy and contentment to our lives. And naturally, it wasn’t just about getting rid of stuff we owned, it was mostly choosing to focus on the things that truly mattered to us. 
One of the advantages of being a writer for many years is that you have decades of writing to look back on as your age creeps upwards. I have been writing for over 40 years now and putting out articles on this blog for nearly 15. Through the years I have shared hundreds of ideas and curiosities with anyone who wanted to read along. Some of those thoughts I even put into books. At the same time I have been journalling for at least 30 years now so if anyone wanted to blackmail me, there is all the evidence they would need to judge me for my thoughts and actions. Fortunately, what’s most interesting at least to me, is that I can see how I have gradually grown and evolved through the years. So here are the top ten bits of wisdom I think I’ve gained the most. 
Years ago, Thom and I scaled back our living space and rightsized. That conscious choice was to sell our larger home and buy one nearly half the size. Our decision not only saved us a significant amount of money—more importantly, it gave us the peace of mind and freedom to live in a way far more aligned with what matters most to us. So even though we had fewer “rooms” in our house, in the end our new home offered us many more opportunities to create the lifestyle that we wanted. Taking things a step further, sometimes a home and the rooms inside offer a far more important analogy than simply a place where we dwell.
Since turning 68, I’ve been increasingly interested in what it means to grow older in a vibrant and purposeful way. Much like my work with 
I have been a big fan of science fiction my entire life. Back when I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to watch the latest episodes of The Jetsons, Lost in Space, Outer Limits and of course Star Trek. Recently, Thom and I agreed that one of our favorite rides at Disneyland used to be Carousel of Progress. In 1977, the year Thom and I met and married, theaters gifted us with the first Star Wars movie—and we saw it at least seven times that summer along with every sequel and prequel ever since. And let’s not forget books like Dune or everything written by Ursula K. Le Guin or Robert A Heinlein. I think the attraction is the mostly positive vision of life, people and worlds so creatively different—and yes, all wrapped around an adventure. To me, science fiction requires unlimited imagination and open-mindedness. If we can’t imagine something different and yes, impossible—how can we ever hope to create or achieve it? And now, a new sub-genre of science fiction called solarpunk raises that bar in optimistic and innovative ways.
Did you ever play house as a kid? I did. And while once in a while my play house would contain a family with kids, most of the time my play revolved around adventure and the experience of living somewhere new. Then like most of us, I assumed I gave up playing house when I became a teenager. But this last week I realized that in many ways I still play house on a regular basis. In fact, every time Thom and I rent a vacation rental we are “playing house” in a similar way. Taking that a step further, this last week Thom and I bought a Park Model in Tucson and it hit me—this is just another way to play house! What about you? Did you play it as a kid? And are you playing a variation even today? 
Last week a blogger friend died unexpectedly in her sleep. Rena McDaniel was 55. I didn’t know her well. But I’ve been following her online since I began blogging over 12 years ago. Her first blog posts focused on caregiving her mother with Alzheimer’s. Then when her mother passed on five or so years later, she switched to writing about blogging itself—how to do it, best programs, and even served to help others with repairs. In other words, Rena was someone who spent her life helping others. While I never had need of her services, her presence in my blogging world was always there. And now it’s not. I’m only guessing, but from my perspective I don’t think Rena ever reached her “golden years.” That got me wondering about how many of us ever really do? What does “golden years” even mean? And like so many thoughts I have these days—maybe it is time to stop waiting for some time or some “place” in the future—and instead live life right now.