Dear Reader

End of Year Musings

It’s been a tough year in many respects – I’ve had several health challenges and some heart wrenching losses. Yet, looking back on the year, I realise it’s been one of the best yet!

During it all, we (Neil and me) took time to clarify what we really want out of our life – right now. We love our home and decided to stay here for the foreseeable future, researching where our next move will take us when the time feels right for us both.

We’ve affirmed that what is a priority is our connections with those we love. It’s these connections that keep our hearts warm and enrich our lives, regardless of what is happening.

We love our friends who live in close proximity – our book club and gym friends and those in other parts of our lives here in Hamilton. And those who live elsewhere throughout the world – mean more to us each passing day.

We love our families. Each family member means more than we could ever show or tell and this year, although we’ve caught up with quite a few who live here in New Zealand and some in Aussie, we miss those we haven’t seen – those who live in some parts of Australia, in the USA, in Germany, and in Ethiopia.

My wish is that one day we’ll all be together in the one place, enjoying the love and fun we’ve shared this year.

Family Get Togethers

A couple of years ago, we started a new tradition – getting together at this time of the year for a shared meal and a walk from our place to see the Christmas lights in a nearby street.

We appreciated the efforts our neighbours put into decorating their homes for our enjoyment!

​

And fun in the house

This year we spread our get together over three nights so we could enjoy time with those who couldn’t make the designated evening.

Grandson Eli amused us with his skill in using the Snap Chat app. Here’s his portraits of me and Neil. I must say, I enjoy the new look! I’m not sure Neil feels the same!

We really do look like old granny and gramps! Thank you Eli!

Seasons Greetings to you all

Here’s to an amazing 2026 for us all – regardless of the downs we may face, may we all share the hope of enjoying the ups that always follow.

With love,
Stephanie

Why I Write – for you and for me too.

Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart.

I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward.

My thoughts for Living Life in 2025 and beyond:

​

“My religion is kindness”

Dalai Lama

“Cast your bread upon the waters and it will
come back – buttered”

Doris May Payne – my mother

“Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing”

Helen Keller

“Write it on my heart that every day is
the best day of the year”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Remember that sometimes not getting
what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”
​​
Dalai Lama

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

Read past Newsletters and, if you enjoy them,
please share with your friends and encourage them to subscribe
through my website:

http://www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com

FOLLOW ME
Join me on my Substack.
Like, post and comment at any of the links below.

​​​

​

Dear Reader

What do I really want?

It took me many years to begin to move from thinking about “what I don’t want” to “what I do want”. It seemed natural to say I don’t want this or that. There was so much in my life of what I didn’t want.

And then I was challenged by a dear friend: “So what DO you want? Do you know that? I hear all about what you don’t want. Tell me. What DO YOU WANT?”

That led to a lifetime of questioning my thoughts, my actions, my motivations. An understanding of what I want came gradually, changed and refined, and, to be honest, the process is ongoing.

For a long time, one of the things I wanted most was not to be triggered, not to be thrown back into past experiences I hoped I’d left behind. The word itself, triggered, felt Harsh, Sudden, Violent. As if something outside me had all the power.

When I think of being “triggered,” I picture exactly that: something aimed at me, someone pulling the trigger, and me being struck. It’s instantaneous. I have no say in what happens next. Pain. Powerlessness. The familiar echo of old trauma. And in that understanding, I’m not responsible for my reaction because the shot has already been fired – and received.

Most of us don’t consciously attach all that meaning to the word, especially not in the moment of being “triggered”. But our bodies often behave as if it’s true.

Recently I’ve been introduced to a different word. Activated – a word that offers Space. Breath. Choice.

At first it felt almost too gentle, too slow, to describe something that feels so immediate. But the more I sat with it, the more I appreciated its invitation. To say “I am activated” asks something of me. It asks me to notice. To pause. To witness what’s happening inside rather than assume the world has already done something to me. It invites me to pause and to take action, not to react.

I’ve recently taken on the challenge of making sourdough bread, and the process gives an image that stays with me. The first step is creating a starter, a simple mix of flour and water. You leave it on the bench to slowly, quietly, develop its own life as wild yeast and bacteria wake up and begin to multiply.

At a certain point, the mixture becomes active. It bubbles, grows, and becomes capable of transforming dough into bread. But activation isn’t instantaneous. It’s a gradual change. A coming-to-life that can be observed. Responded to. Adjusted.

I’m thinking of my emotional life in the same way. When something upsetting happens, perhaps I’m not “triggered” like a bullet leaving a gun. Perhaps my starter has simply begun to bubble. Something in me is being activated, brought to the surface, inviting me to pay attention.

That shift in language changes the story.

Most of all, it gives me back my agency.

I can’t always control what activates me. But I can practise how I respond once I notice the first bubbles rising. I won’t always get it right – maybe there is no “right”, not like with making sourdough bread. And I certainly haven’t got it right – not yet!

Even in making sourdough bread, it seems there’s a lot of practice required. Here’s a picture of my first loaf. I use that word “loaf” because that was my intent.

In no way could we eat this first attempt. Yet, I will keep practising. I want to make our own bread – with wholemeal flours, water and salt – what better ingredient list can we have. I’ll keep trying, practising, until I’m satisfied I’ve made an edible loaf like this one from the store.

Then I’ll start practising on a different form. Maybe pizza bases, crackers – who knows what else? I’m excited at the thought of how my “activated” starter will create a variety of foodstuffs to enhance our lives.

Being “activated”, for me, feels far more powerful than being “triggered.” I like focusing on this concept of being activated when something disturbs me and I’m excited to feel the difference in my reactions, down to the cellular level.

If being triggered has plagued you in the past, I hope this concept of activation appeals to you and you have fun with it and find a calmer way of dealing with it too.

With love,
Stephanie

Why I Write – for you and for me too.

Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart.

I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward.

My thoughts for Living Life in 2025 and beyond:

​

“My religion is kindness”

Dalai Lama

“Cast your bread upon the waters and it will
come back – buttered”

Doris May Payne – my mother

“Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing”

Helen Keller

“Write it on my heart that every day is
the best day of the year”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Remember that sometimes not getting
what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”
​​
Dalai Lama

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

Read past Newsletters and, if you enjoy them,
please share with your friends and encourage them to subscribe
through my website:

http://www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com

FOLLOW ME
Join me on my Substack.
Like, post and comment at any of the links below.

​​​

​

Dear Reader

Where is peace in today’s world?

I am loving my reading of Substack posts. I find thoughts to come back to that change my perspective, that give me hope and peace I didn’t know I needed.

One of these is from Quiet Wisdom. The author states:

I’m amazed that here, from the perspective of my 78 years, I can still be stopped in my tracks when I read a simple life hack like this one. All my life, it seems, I’ve been searching for clarity, for life to make sense, for the key to unlocking patterns learned in a dysfunctional past. Bit by bit, I’ve tried new ways of ‘living’, seen some breakthroughs – only to come up against another obstinate pattern or habit that steals my peace of mind.

All my adult life I’ve been searching for the key that will give me peace from past experiences that haunt me still. I’m starting to see that “life” happens. The sun comes up. The sun goes down. It’s a rhythm that is constant. In a similar way, I can be happy, or sad. I can be well or not. I’m learning that it doesn’t have to mean anything.

However, I’ve often been frustrated to hear: “It just is!” I’m not convinced that that’s not a cop out. But maybe, just maybe, it is a true observation – about almost anything that happens in my life.

Maybe this Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis and its debilitating effects “just is!” Maybe the effects don’t come from my diet, my activities, or my sleep patterns. Maybe my body just has Hashimoto’s. It just is the way of my body.

And maybe, just maybe, I will flow with that. When I go to sleep with plans for an eventful day, and wake up with aching bones and muscles for instance, I usually start bemoaning the fact that I can’t do what I planned. What if instead, I just notice how I feel and say: “Well, this is just how it is!” and do what I planned anyway.

I actually did this on Sunday when we’d planned to walk around Hamilton Lake (Lake Rotoroa).

Sure, I felt pain. But I also enjoyed our walk around the lake, a drink and a muffin at the cafe, and then finishing our walk around the lake back to our car. A 4km walk, 20 min sit watching people enjoying the sunshine with their families, still feeling the aches and pains, but not giving them the awareness I would have had I stayed home!

I’m reminded of a doctor’s advice years ago after complaining about my aches and pains. The conversation went something like this:

What she said and what I read in the Quiet Wisdom combine to give me clarity around my thinking and my expectations. Yes, I used that word “clarity”! That aha of understanding – not as used in the Quiet Wisdom thoughts.

I’m open to reading, and integrating, the wisdom of allowing that shift to occur, to stop demanding life explain itself to me. Certainly this openness was prompted from my last newsletter and my practicing #7 of the extract from The Health Today post, subtitled: You don’t age from living too long — you age from living disconnected from your own life. The author examined several practices of centenarians from Japan. This one is giving me the best sleep I’ve had in ages.

I’m learning that clarity isn’t necessary for peace. Understanding rarely comes on demand. It might come years after the event. It might come earlier. Often the answers to questions we have don’t come as a comprehensive answer.

One example is my years of seeking understanding around the death of my first husband. Why did he die? It was a terrible accident but his wounds were limited to a compound fracture of his leg. Why did he leave me and our two little daughters? My questions would fill a book – and they have never been answered. My pain took over 40 years to subside.

Life goes on, expanding around grief that stays the same. I’ve never understood why my first husband died. I do understand though that his death made me find ways to show love, at first for my daughters and then to set the parameters for a way of life that became bearable.

“Peace”, an important aspect of living a good life, needs to be cultivated to let go of the need to know answers that may never arrive.

Here’s to finding that peace that each of us, on our own individual level, needs!

With love,
Stephanie

Why I Write – for you and for me too.

Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart.

I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward.

My thoughts for Living Life in 2025 and beyond:

​

“My religion is kindness”

Dalai Lama

“Cast your bread upon the waters and it will
come back – buttered”

Doris May Payne – my mother

“Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing”

Helen Keller

“Write it on my heart that every day is
the best day of the year”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Remember that sometimes not getting
what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”
​​
Dalai Lama

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

Read past Newsletters and, if you enjoy them,
please share with your friends and encourage them to subscribe
through my website:

http://www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com

FOLLOW ME
Join me on my Substack.
Like, post and comment at any of the links below.

​​​

​

Dear Reader

More about life changes

How I started my last newsletter: “Life changes …whether it’s in our plans or not. And sometimes we’re happy about it, sometimes we grin and bear it, and sometimes we only find the joy in the change as time passes.“

I’m surprised, and pleased, to see that I am finding the joy in the upheaval to our recent plans.

I have to report that it’s not happening. We’re not moving – at least, not in the foreseeable future – although the way life flows, the “forseeable future” could be just around the corner.

The past couple of weeks has brought me a deeper understanding of what makes me happiest. We put in our offer to buy a really lovely home, which we loved. Our offer was conditional on the sale of our house with a predicted settlement date of mid January. Although it was a good offer, and acceptable in many respects to the vendor, she accepted a cash offer that would enable her to move immediately.

We knew this could happen and had become philosophical about the outcome. Whether it was to be our future home or whether we would be staying here, we knew we would be happy.

We are happy to be staying in our current home. Little did I know when I started that Swedish Death Cleaning I wrote about in March this year that it would lead to a whole new perspective on our home life.

I have achieved a good deal of cleaning out those things I didn’t want my children to have to deal with in the future. Over the last few weeks both Neil and I have done an even deeper dive into the mysteries of storage boxes, “stuff” in the garage, drawers that are rarely opened. We found a pile of things we don’t need that have been regifted or added to our city’s landfill. And as a result, our home has benefitted greatly from being decluttered! Spaces are airier and brighter as a result.

What surprises us both is how much we enjoyed the process and we have committed to a yearly Spring clean going forward.

What else surprises us is the thought we had that the home we chose to move to, and now won’t be going to, was “one-in-a-million” and a similar place will not come our way again for a long long time. A thought that was soon to be proven false.

The day we got the news that our offer wasn’t successful, we went to dine with our friend who lives in a different retirement village near us. It happens that her neighbours are selling their house and were happy for us to view it.

Honestly, it was every bit as lovely as the one we missed out on – different but lovely. We realised that when the time comes for us to move we will find the perfect place for us. We won’t keep looking at houses but we will keep researching different villages and their offerings and expectations of new residents.

It’s not just about the type of building and location – we’ve also realised that we need to be more open to each other’s needs and wishes. We’ll get help with the garden and housework to start and create an environment that will adapt as our needs change.

We’ve also become more aware of each other’s, and our own, social needs. In particular, what other things do we enjoy that don’t depend on the other to do with us.

It’s an exciting phase in our lives. Moving into a new cycle of ageing is like an adventure we haven’t really explored, or given much credibility to, before.

And all through this past few weeks, I’m excited too to see that the issues we face have been explored by others. In Substack, I’ve come across several posts that have encouraged me to be joyful and to anticipate wonderful outcomes in the years ahead. It’s often not only a physical adjustment, ageing, but a mental one as well.

Here’s an extract from The Health Today post, subtitled: You don’t age from living too long — you age from living disconnected from your own life.

The comments below are drawn from the author’s experiences visiting with the 300 centenarians in Japan.

Here are the seven one-minute habits that changed everything.

1. One Minute of Morning Sun

The first act of the day is stepping outside — even if only to the doorstep — to let natural light hit the eyes.

This single minute resets your internal clock, stabilizing mood-regulating hormones and preventing the late-night cortisol spikes that keep millions awake.

2. One Minute of Deep Breathing Before Meals

Centenarians breathe low into the belly — slowly, intentionally — before eating.

This tells the nervous system:

“It’s safe to digest.”

3. One Minute of Gentle Joint Movement

Not stretching.
Not exercise.

Just slowly rotating wrists, ankles, neck, shoulders.

Joint movement lubricates the cartilage, nourishes connective tissue, and prevents the stiffness that accelerates aging more than time itself.

4. One Minute of Spoken Gratitude

They don’t think gratitude.
They speak it out loud.

Because spoken emotion activates different regions of the brain — signaling presence, grounding, and safety.

The most common phrase I heard:

“I am lucky to have woken today.”

5. One Minute Slowing the First Bite

The first bite sets the pace for the entire meal.

They chew slowly — deliberately — teaching the body to digest with care rather than urgency.

6. One Minute of Touch

Touch was universal.

A held hand, a shoulder squeeze, a gentle hug.
When no one was around, simply placing a hand on the chest.

This releases oxytocin — the hormone of safety, bonding, immunity, regulation.

7. One Minute of Closure Before Sleep

Instead of scrolling themselves numb, they close the day with a sentence:

“Today was enough.”

This signals completion.
The nervous system softens.
The mind stops rehearsing unfinished tasks.

There are many similarly inspirational posts on Substack about healthy ageing. It feels like a blessing to have been encouraged to join this social media format.

Here’s to protecting our aliveness well into the future!

​

With love, my friend.
Stephanie

Why I Write – for you and for me too.

Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart.

I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward.

My thoughts for Living Life in 2025 and beyond:

​

“My religion is kindness”

Dalai Lama

“Cast your bread upon the waters and it will
come back – buttered”

Doris May Payne – my mother

“Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing”

Helen Keller

“Write it on my heart that every day is
the best day of the year”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Remember that sometimes not getting
what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”
​​
Dalai Lama

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

Read past Newsletters and, if you enjoy them,
please share with your friends and encourage them to subscribe
through my website:

http://www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com

FOLLOW ME
Join me on my Substack.
Like, post and comment at any of the links below.

​​​

​

Dear Reader

Life changes…

…whether it’s in our plans or not. And sometimes we’re happy about it, sometimes we grin and bear it, and sometimes we only find the joy in the change as time passes.

Where I’m at in that cycle, I don’t really know. Last night loud thunder claps woke me about 3 am and I couldn’t get back to sleep. My thoughts are on our decision to move house. And in the wee hours of this morning I found myself grieving for the life we will be leaving behind.

This isn’t like some moves in the past, like in 1974 when my family took a trip around Australia – 5 children, 2 adults – in a small caravan. That trip was designed and engineered by my then husband with no consultation at all with me. And I was not happy with his decision. However, I was surprised to find that I loved it and had more time to enjoy my family than I ever had in our suburban home that I didn’t want to leave behind. (You can read about our adventures in my daughter Phoebe’s memoir of that time, available here on Amazon).

This time, I’m happy with our plans to move and the decision that has been made by both of us. We’ve decided to move into a retirement village, something we’ve contemplated for a few months, swinging to and fro with the pros and cons. A few months ago, our neighbours made the move and one thing they said hit home for us. “We want to make the decision to move before it’s too late and it’s made for us.”

I’m happy knowing that the time is now right for us. When we bought our current home five years ago we thought it was our forever home. We planned how we could be cared for here if such a need arrived. We could get someone to do the gardening, the housework, bathe us, cook for us – the house is certainly big enough to even have a live in carer.

What I hadn’t built in to that scenario was the signals to look for to tell us we are at any or all of those stages of need. And what I didn’t factor in was what losing the ability to do things with my husband would cost me in companionship. To be honest, the loneliness that accompanies my dwindling capabilities is beyond description and fills me with grief.

I’m also grieving leaving my little street. Yesterday two of our neighbour children came to see us, bringing us cookies they’d baked with their lovely mama. It was beautiful listening to their adventures of learning to cook.

The oldest was about 2 when they came to live across from us. His sister arrived a little over a year later and was a couple of days old when I first held her. It’s joyous watching them grow and I fantasised about watching them become young adults. Not to be!

In the early hours of this morning the tears flowed in the realisation that our new life means we won’t see these little ones grow, we won’t hear their happy chatter and laughter from our place. And their lovely mother …

I know this is a good move for us. I know I’ll be happy. I know there’ll be other companionships to enjoy (no little ones in our new village though!) And, honestly, I am looking forward to this new chapter in our life. I’m just giving myself permission to grieve a life I’ve loved – a life of more independent living than I know I’m able to maintain going forward.

I looked for some photos to illustrate my thoughts. Too many to choose from. So I decided on this view from our driveway towards the entrance of our current home. Here we’ve designed a space we love, a little oasis that enables everyone to feel at peace when they come in.

I already love our new home. I can’t fathom how I can be filled with joy and grief at the same time! I look forward to the grieving part being surrounded by the joy as we go forward. My experiences in life show me that that grief doesn’t go away, it gets surrounded by life’s demands (joys!) That’s what makes it bearable. I’m hopeful and happy thinking of the future life we will create.

I’ll keep you posted on progress on where we go to next.

Enjoy whatever life brings for you, my friend.

With love
Stephanie

Why I Write – for you and for me too.

Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart.

I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward.

My thoughts for Living Life in 2025 and beyond:

​

“My religion is kindness”

Dalai Lama

“Cast your bread upon the waters and it will
come back – buttered”

Doris May Payne – my mother

“Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing”

Helen Keller

“Write it on my heart that every day is
the best day of the year”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Remember that sometimes not getting
what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”
​​
Dalai Lama

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

Read past Newsletters and, if you enjoy them,
please share with your friends and encourage them to subscribe
through my website:

http://www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com

FOLLOW ME
Join me on my Substack.
Like, post and comment at any of the links below.

​​​

​

Dear Reader

Enjoying the Sculpture Park

If you’ve read my newsletters for a while you’ll know how much Neil and I love our volunteering at the Waitakaruru Sculpture Park and Arboretum. The past few months with poor vision have been distressing for me as I haven’t been able to help Neil in the Rock Garden.

So, I was excited to join him this weekend and absorb the garden’s Spring offerings and to see the new sculpture exhibition The Forgotten Forest. Have a look at their website to see this beautiful exhibition. I didn’t participate in looking after the garden this time, but know that I’ll come back soon to get my hands dirty!

I totally agree with the sentiments in a brochure about the Park:

The Sculpture Park is over 30 years old and

I did take a few photos and talked with some of the patrons. If you’re in the vicinity, be sure to come along and enjoy the restoration work done to the old quarry. (Click the highlight to see what’s on offer.)

I love spring in the Arboretum. The birds, singing all year round, seem to be more active as the seasons change. And the colours soothe my spirit. Here’s a few snaps I took.

The photos above are just a few highlights of the amazing variety of plants from around the world. I was also taken by the sculpture display in The Forgotten Forest Exhibition currently in the Rock Garden until October 27th.

This large copper and stainless steel piece is called Kaitiaki – a recognized guardian of the forest.

The Kereru is comprised of “pots and pans”. If you look closely, you will see how everyday items have been used to create this iconic bird.

This delicate depiction of a Bean stalk is made from fine steel and crafted copper leaves. The color in this piece is beautiful.

As I said last newsletter, Spring heralds new beginnings. That’s truly how I’m approaching life now. Every day I wake up is a gift. Sometimes I’m not feeling physically capable and I’m learning to accept the gift of the day, with the abilities that come with it. All in all, it’s the small things that bring joy.

A short walk around part of the Sculpture Park brought so much colour, sounds, and textures into the day. Finished off with a cup of chai and a ginger crunch at the cafe accompanied by a lovely chat with a woman from Te Aroha. She brought a smile to my heart with her love of Betty Boop shoes and t shirt.

And finally, just for fun, enjoy this YouTube video taken about a year ago by our national TV team at Seven Sharp. You might recognise yours truly!

Enjoy whatever your day brings for you, my friend.

With love
Stephanie

Why I Write – for you and for me too.

Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart.

I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward.

My thoughts for Living Life in 2025 and beyond:

​

“My religion is kindness”

Dalai Lama

“Cast your bread upon the waters and it will
come back – buttered”

Doris May Payne – my mother

“Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing”

Helen Keller

“Write it on my heart that every day is
the best day of the year”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Remember that sometimes not getting
what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”
​​
Dalai Lama

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

Read past Newsletters and, if you enjoy them,
please share with your friends and encourage them to subscribe
through my website:

http://www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com

FOLLOW ME
Join me on my Substack.
Like, post and comment at any of the links below.

​​​

​

Dear Reader

A mixture of emotions

What an emotional two weeks – well, thirteen days – our recent trip to Australia was for me. I’m amazed at the capacity of the human heart to feel both joy and heartbreak at the same time. And this is what I felt during the following events of our visit.

• Neil and I accompanied my youngest daughter, Suraya, to Brisbane where a week after our arrival she left for Darwin to be with her partner, Silas. This was both a joyous and heartbreaking time for me. I am thrilled for her – I have no fears for her well-being and know that this is the very best thing for her. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to the heartbreak at not having her visit me every Thursday – sure, video messaging is great and I look forward to that. What I know can’t be replaced is the warmth of our hugs, the companionable breaks in our conversations. Already life feels different without her here in our country. Plans are already forming to visit her and Silas in Darwin.
• While in Brisbane, we stayed with Amy, another daughter, and her partner, Jamie. We got to meet Jess, Amy’s best friend, who stayed with them as well for a few days. While we flitted around in Amy’s car she generously loaned us, I was very aware that I was missing out on spending precious time with her.
• I’ve previously shared a little of my sister Megan’s bereavement. We were able to spend two days with her and catch up with my grand-nephew Matt and his partner Susan. We also joined Megan and my nieces, Jane and Maddie, for a meal. Pure bliss to be with them. Especially to hold my sister and listen to her reminisce about her husband. We had some wonderful shared times together over the 52 years they were married. Her heartache is mine, mine is hers. We laughed and cried, as we always did, always will, when we are together. It was wonderful to be able to spend time with her. And then we had to leave – the time was heartbreakingly short.
• We got to: spend time with good friends, a much loved cousin, my aunty who’s just turned 90, a dear friend I’ve known since she was a baby, and finally meet a cousin on my father’s side who I’d met through Ancestry.com. All wonderful connections, and definitely not enough time spent with them.

• While visiting with Phoebe (and her husband Ewen), we caught up with all her children except Logan who was greatly missed. Logan lives in Germany (he features in my memoir An Addict in the Family as Darius). It was a glorious time with them, to see the wonderful men and women they have grown into, to see the next generation growing in confidence and skill, to hold them in my arms and express my love and pride in them. Parker and Summer, and Hannah, all live on the 50 acre property Phoebe and Ewen have bought in west Queensland. We had no time to visit the property this time, but it’s definitely on the list for a future visit.

The joy far outweighs the heartache of leaving them all behind. And of course there is another list of family and friends I didn’t get to visit. There’ll be more trips across the ditch with opportunities to catch up. And I dare say it, there’ll be more heartbreak moments.

And now I’ve listed what we did, who we saw – I realise it’s a lot to pack into thirteen days. This means – more frequent visits across the ditch and making more time to see people. Any ideas how you achieve this balance are welcome!

More benefits of being away from home.

Neil and I have been considering selling our place, downsizing and going into a retirement village. We have plenty to choose from around here.

The inspiration for this came from our neighbours who have recently made the move. Bruce told us: “We want to do this while we have the choice and it’s not thrust on us.”

I totally understand that. My recent bout with whatever the cause of my eye problems was shows me how vulnerable I am. I really don’t like it that when I’m out of action, Neil has to take over the majority of what needs to be done.

We looked around and saw options we could live with. I’ve been committed to clearing out stuff from the house we no longer need – I no longer need! – and have continued doing that. We talked with folk we know in the villages. It seems a viable option, when the time is right.

I must admit I was more than a trifle nervous going to Australia. I didn’t know how I was going to cope with limited eyesight. I’m pleased to say that I managed very well – with stairs, unfamiliar terrain, and even driving. Neil is a great navigator and he took on that job while I drove. No problems there.

We bounced the idea of the retirement village around with our loved ones. Everyone had an opinion and comment to inform our research. We listened and discussed our options and people’s opinions and decided the time was ‘not yet’ for us to make that move. We love our house, our little community in our right-of-way and neighbourhood, our walks, the gym. And this time I think we are committed to getting help if we need it (when we need it) with gardening and housework, at least. Maybe we’ll revisit this option in about five years!

We came home with a fresh outlook and a realisation that loving and being loved in our little part of the world is probably the most important thing for us. We have that in our neighbourhood and we have that with family and friends, whereever they may be in this wonderful world of ours.

Time moves on

Here we are, at the end of September with Spring well under way in the Southern Hemisphere. Spring heralds new beginnings and that’s how I’m approaching life now. I’ve made arrangements to spend the afternoon with my daughter, Babette, who lives barely ten minutes drive away – what a blessing to spend time with her and have a great catch up with what’s gone on in the past little while! So looking forward to it.

With love
Stephanie

Why I Write – for you and for me too.

Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart.

I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward.

My thoughts for Living Life in 2025 and beyond:

​

“My religion is kindness”

Dalai Lama

“Cast your bread upon the waters and it will
come back – buttered”

Doris May Payne – my mother

“Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing”

Helen Keller

“Write it on my heart that every day is
the best day of the year”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Remember that sometimes not getting
what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”
​​
Dalai Lama

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

Read past Newsletters and, if you enjoy them,
please share with your friends and encourage them to subscribe
through my website:

http://www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com

FOLLOW ME
Join me on my Substack.
Like, post and comment at any of the links below.

​​​

​

Dear Reader

Encouraged to be curious

As a child, I soon learned not to ask too many questions. But I never stopped ‘wanting to know’ stuff.

When I became a mother at a very young age, I was glad when my little ones started with the endless “Why – but WHY?” questions. I was never afraid to say, “I don’t know” because we could see if we could find out the answers together.

I learned about spiders, clouds, lightning, animals, toys – all because of the children’s questions.

Why ask questions?

When I was at university as a mature student, sometimes I seemed to be the only person asking questions. One time, in a tutorial session I was intimidated by the sniggers of some of my classmates when I asked yet another question.

To my everlasting gratitude, our tutor told our group:

“It’s better to look a fool for asking a question, than being a fool for not.” I realised that that was me – I didn’t mind that I looked a fool to others if I was getting my curiousity satisfied.

And there was a spinoff benefit. My classmates soon gathered round me and assured me they liked my questions, questions they themselves had but were too shy to ask. So the questions and answers benefitted us all.

More benefits of being curious.

Tony Robbins has said that the quality of your life is determined by the quality of the questions you ask.

Little children show us the truth in that statement. We are blessed in that our closest neighbours have two young children. “Where are you going?” the oldest, Zaia, asks as we walk out of our driveway.

“To the gym,” I reply.

“Why?” he asks. I laugh and tell him. His dad is embarrased by the questions. I’m grateful to hear them, to feel his curiosity, to know he is growing up in a way that will make him a compassionate and interesting adult.

He often comes over when Neil is in the garden. “What’re you doing?” “Can I help?” He especially loves helping stack the wood. We love it that he takes a few pieces home for his family’s outdoor firepit.

He’s also keen on foraging, asking about the plants, which ones can he eat.

We had some bushes that have enticing blue berries – poisonous berries. Seeing his avid curiosity led us to remove them all. We’d rather sacrifice the bushes than have Zaia affected.

We grow white alpine strawberries. I say ‘we grow’ but in reality, they are the fruit of birds dropping the seeds which grow in the our front gardens. We share those strawberries with Zaia who knows that’s the only fruit he’s allowed to pick in our garden.

Now my curiosity is piqued – I want to watch him grow, to see where his curiosity leads him through the years.

And what about me? Where has my curiosity lead me?

To many places. Here’s just a few.

There’s a long story of how debilitating my fears of drowning and of heights have been. My fears finally led me to explore ways of overcoming them – so I could live a ‘normal’ life, full of the adventures I craved. So I started to ask “What if…” questions. What if I did … I’d day dream about doing the things I was scared of, imagining different outcomes. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” someone asked me. Face that, I was advised, and you’ll see that even the worst thing won’t be that bad. And what if, just what if, it turned out to be fine?

Little did I know it was this questioning that held the key to overcoming these fears. I shake my head in wonder as I write these words. I’ve done things few others in my circle have done (or admit that they would ever do).

The first thing I did for the height fear was to join a friend on a hot air balloon ride. Fear soon subsided in the peace of floating over the Hamilton landscape. Over the lake, over treetops and rooftops towards the river where we seemed to float down to almost touch the water. Pure magic. Blissful awakening to a whole new way of seeing the world.

Next I joined a group of friends in a climb of the Auckland Harbour Bridge. We were led along custom engineered walkways to the top of the bridge. Here’s a photo at the top. The 360 degree view is spectacular. Fears disappeared in the exhileration of reaching the summit.

My youngest daughter, Suraya, and I trekked up Mount Ruapehu to Crater Lake. We took the chairlift up to our starting point, high on the mountain. From there it was a tough walk to the crater, made all the harder by knowing it was snowy at the top. Our walk took us across the mountain shrouded in fog to the edge of the crater, walking in snow. At the end of our visit to the crater, we slid down the side of the snow clad mountain to the valley below and walked back to our starting point. Fun, nervousness (not always fear), and exhileration again at having achieved something that made the fears subside a bit more.

Finally, ziplining is another of these activities that helped overcome the fears. That initial jump into the void was horrifically scary! It’s the fear of the unknown I think. Once I’d experienced it, it was an easy step to move to a more challenging zipline. Now it’s an activity I continue to enjoy and challenge myself with by participating in longer and higher ziplines.

Those are just a few highlights of my “fear-of-heights” dispelling activities. I’m amazed at what I did. I’m amazed that I’m so brave! And I laugh at that statement, because the motivation wasn’t courage. The motivation was sickness – I was sick to death of being afraid. I had to do something so I could live with healthy fears, not debilitating ones.

So what of my fear of drowning?

When I was eight-years-old I had an experience that made me determined that “one day I would swim among the fishes”.

And at a point in my life when I needed to do something to prove I wasn’t just a waste of space, I decided it was time to swim with those fishes.

I lied on my application to do a scuba diving course. I said I could swim. I could dog paddle. I could float. Swim? Not at all.

I’m sure it soon became evident to the instructors I couldn’t swim. But, bless them, they let me stay in the group, mentoring, teaching and helping me in the dive pool at the local municipal pools, to the deep sea diving experiences. I got my certificate and feel so proud of that.

Living near the longest river in New Zealand, the mighty Waikato River, was an invitation to kayak. Again, a course on how to escape from the kayak if it turned over was important.

Another thing I did to help overcome the fear of drowning was join the dragon boat team at my place of work. The competitions required mixed gender teams, otherwise I would never have been invited to join, I’m sure. I stayed with the dragon boat team right throughout the competition, going to the finals in Wellington. We didn’t place in the finals, and I’m sure I didn’t let them down too much in my contribution.

How do I know the fears are gone?

Fear of Heights:

I was planning consultant for a chap who wanted to recommission a disused power station. My investigations took me on a site visit where I requested the caretaker take me up to a platform overlooking the site and surrounding terrain. The adjacent land consists of the Whangamarino Wetland, an internationally significant Ramsar site and is protected by the Department of Conservation.

The steps and the platform are both constructed of open weave steel fabric – meaning I could see the ground through the steps and the platform.

After being on the platform for a few moments, the caretaker surprised me with: “You are the first woman I’ve brought up here who isn’t afraid of heights.”

I was amazed and surprised to see he was right – I was not afraid.

Fear of Drowning

That dragon boat competition was the clincher for me in knowing I’d lost my fear of drowning.

We were coming back from our last race to the Basin, where we would moor the boat. An adult shark was swimming about fifteen metres from the boat and parallel with where I was seated. I couldn’t take my eyes off this gorgeous creature. There was a bond between us – mutual admiration and respect. I kept thinking: “You’re beautiful!” And when we got the boat moored and disembarked so many of my teammates were fearful of the shark that had followed us all the way. And I realised that this encounter was my last affirmation that my fear of drowning was all gone.

And what’s the key to overcoming fears of this magnitude?

Hindsight is a wonderful thing! It gives us time to analyse and reach conclusions about events in the past and inform the future.

For me, success in overcoming these fears was mostly because I was led by experts. As scary as the trek in the snow and fog was, I knew our leader was trained well and trusted by the company who hired him to lead us safely. I trod in his footsteps. I was safe. The ziplining guides, their equipment, the lines and platforms are all constructed well. Going with a reputable company is important.

I’m not concerned any more about whether I can overcome fears that may arise in the future. I still have some adventures I want to experience – sky diving, more challenging zip lines, even cruising in Fiordland could be challenging.

One thing I know, if I don’t get to do any of these, I’ll still be thrilled to have overcome that debilitating fear that left me powerless in the past.

I’m careful, not reckless. I have my longevity and health uppermost in my plans for more adventures.

What about you?

With love
Stephanie

Why I Write – for you and for me too.

Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart.

I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward.

My thoughts for Living Life in 2025 and beyond:

​

“My religion is kindness”

Dalai Lama

“Cast your bread upon the waters and it will
come back – buttered”

Doris May Payne – my mother

“Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing”

Helen Keller

“Write it on my heart that every day is
the best day of the year”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Remember that sometimes not getting
what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”
​​
Dalai Lama

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

Read past Newsletters and, if you enjoy them,
please share with your friends and encourage them to subscribe
through my website:

http://www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com

FOLLOW ME
Join me on my Substack.
Like, post and comment at any of the links below.

​​​

​

Dear Reader

Thoughts on growing older as my birthday draws near

It’s a few days to my birthday. A whole year being 77 has been a treat. I love the way 77 rolls off the tongue. Soon it’s be 78. It’s been a tough year in some respects. My health has given me a few challenges.

Along with the challenges though, I’ve gleaned a lot of understanding. Especially about how I’ve been supported by the best in their fields. That’s amazing in itself – and that each person was recommended and seen in the right order. I’m left at this point with a few challenges with my eyesight that I’m learning to live with. I’m managing really well, and for that I’m grateful – I’m learning what a gift gratitude is – and how life prepares us for each stage of life.

I’ve been pondering how I’ve been prepared for growing older.

​

If you didn’t know how old you are, how old would you be?

My friend Lizzie asked me this question a week or so ago. And almost immediately, I had an experience to remind me just how old I am.

I was completing my purchase at the lingerie store when the bright young server asked if I wanted a 5 cent bag for my two new bras. I declined saying “My car is just outside.”

We chatted a bit. Another customer joined in and then the server leaned in and quietly asked me again: “Are you sure you don’t want a bag? I’ll give it to you for free.”

The other customer and I burst out laughing. I thanked her for protecting my modesty and, for her benefit only, I tucked my items under my jacket, assuring her that you do lose such concerns in your 70s! I chuckled all the way home.

​

To be honest, this is not what I envisioned being said about the old me when I was a teenager. At that time I used to visit Mrs Barber who was a right old biddy! She grumbled and complained about everything. So much so, that I thought I’d never want to get old. Then I picked up a magazine and read an article about aging. The sentence that stuck with me all these years was this:

“If you want to be known as a sweet old lady, Start NOW!”

Sweet, not a sour pus like Mrs Barber. Sweet, yes, but not someone who is embarrassed to carry her new underwear in her hand and walk 200 metres to her car.

If I didn’t know how old I was, how old would I be?

When I was 35, my youngest daughter and I were visiting some of my older relatives. We sat around the lunch table having a great catch up when someone asked how old others felt.

I was shocked to hear everyone agree they didn’t feel a day older than 25! This from a group who were in their 60s and 70s.

I gleaned a lot about aging from my older folk. The greatest was my dear father-in-law. He lived with us for a while and was a source of wisdom and joy. He’d had a stroke years before that left him barely able to dress and feed himself.

One day he asked us how old he was. He couldn’t remember. What amazed me most was his response to our telling him he was just under 50. This darling man who struggled to do basic things replied:

If he didn’t feel old in a body that was giving up, when would he feel old? I suspect never.

Now, at 77, less than a week from my 78th birthday – if I didn’t know the number, how old would I be?

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?

When we were at University, my friend Wendy shared a song with me that made me laugh then. Now, when I look at my family photo wall, maybe the lyrics were prophetic!

1987 Michelle Shocked

Oh my Goodness! I’m not old yet!

I’m still on track to live to 140! That’s the number. Maybe I’ll be old by then. In the meantime, my body will probably still have challenges – challenges that I’ll be lead to the best people to help. Regardless of what my body is like as time goes by, I’m confident it’s my mental attitude and the connections with friends and family that will ensure I’ll have the same answer at 139 that I have today:

With love
Stephanie

Why I Write – for you and for me too.

Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart.

I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward.

My thoughts for Living Life in 2025 and beyond:

​

“My religion is kindness”

Dalai Lama

“Cast your bread upon the waters and it will
come back – buttered”

Doris May Payne – my mother

“Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing”

Helen Keller

“Write it on my heart that every day is
the best day of the year”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Remember that sometimes not getting
what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”
​​
Dalai Lama

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

Read past Newsletters and, if you enjoy them,
please share with your friends and encourage them to subscribe
through my website:

http://www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com

FOLLOW ME
Join me on my Substack.
Like, post and comment at any of the links below.

​​​

​

Dear Reader

I love my 70s. When I was in my 20s and 30s I honestly didn’t think I’d live past 40. The closer I got to 40 the more excited I became. And when I turned 40 and realised I was well, I was vibrantly alive, life became exquisite. Every birthday from 40 became a precious gift and I came to mark ‘the beginning of my life’ from my 40th birthday. The mirror reminds me that’s not exactly true! But – I love to play ‘what if’ – What if I was only 38 in about three weeks?

So with my 78th birthday around the corner, I’ve started looking back not on only this past year, but on a long life that has been the most wonderful teacher. I started to list the lessons learned along the way and stopped at 78. Honestly, there are many many more. But 78 seemed an appropriate number to share.

I put these 78 lessons into little paragraphs and am posting them as a countdown to my birthday on my Author Facebook page, my personal FaceBook page, and on my Substack page.

I’m sharing them here with you, in their entirety, so you can enjoy the fun too. (Spoiler alert: you are getting all the posts before the social media viewings finish!) Over the next few months, I’ll pick out a few and write a few paragraphs about “WHY” each one made the list.

Here’s the

78 years of Lessons Learned

💌Counting Down to Birthday #78: 78 Life Lessons in 19 Days

In 19 days from when I post this newsletter, I’ll turn 78 years old. That’s 936 months, over 28,000 days, and more cups of tea than I could possibly count.

Along the way, I’ve gathered a small mountain of lessons – some learned the easy way, most learned the hard way. They’ve come from raising a family, making mistakes, rebuilding, travelling, working, loving, losing, crying and laughing through it all.

To celebrate this birthday, I’m sharing 78 bite-sized lessons in little “tidbits” you can read in under a minute. One morsel a day, until the candles are lit. Or you can read them here, all at once.

Lesson # 1 – Resilience Basics

Life has taught me that resilience isn’t something you’re born with – it’s something you grow, day by day, through the choices you make.

1. Resilience is not a personality trait – it’s a muscle. Use it often.

2. You can survive what you thought would break you.

3. Fear often shrinks when you walk toward it.

4. A small act of courage today makes tomorrow easier.

5. Saying “I’ll try” beats “I can’t” almost every time.

No matter how hard the wind blows, you’re stronger than you think. The proof? You’re still here.

Lesson #2 –Getting Up Again

Some of my strongest moments came right after my hardest falls. The secret isn’t avoiding the fall, it’s learning how to rise again.

6. When life knocks you down, get up, slower if you must, but get up.

7. Trust that even broken threads can be woven into something beautiful.

8. Some days, courage looks like taking a shower and making a cup of tea.

9. Gratitude can be a lifeline, not just a virtue.

10. It’s possible to start over at any age.

Falling is part of the story. The rising – that’s where you find your character.

Lesson #3 – Love & Boundaries

Loving people well sometimes means giving them freedom, and other times it means standing firm. The art is knowing which is which.

11. Love your children fiercely, but let them walk their own path.

12. Being right is less important than staying connected.

13. The quiet “I’m here for you” matters more than clever advice.

14. Grandparenting and great-grandparenting (and even great-great grandparenting) are privileges, even when tricky.

Love is richer when it’s given freely, not out of guilt or fear.

Lesson #4 – Healthy Relationships

Strong relationships aren’t about perfect harmony – they’re about tending the connection, even when the music gets messy.

15. You can love someone deeply and still set boundaries.

16. Not all family relationships will be what you hoped. That’s okay.

17. Listening without fixing is an underrated superpower.

18. Forgiveness frees you, whether or not they change.

19. Relationships take tending, like a garden.

Good people make life lighter. Hold them close. Let the rest drift away.

Lesson #5 – Wellbeing Wisdom

Looking after my health hasn’t just kept me going, it’s given me the energy to enjoy the life I’m living.

20. Sometimes the most loving thing you can say is “no.”

21. Your body will surprise you, sometimes with limitations, sometimes with strength.

22. Movement is medicine.

23. So is strength training. It’s never too late to get stronger.

Caring for yourself isn’t selfish. It’s how you make sure you can keep showing up.

Lesson #6 – Living in Your Body

My body has been my lifelong home – not always perfect, but worth caring for with patience and kindness.

24. Rest is productive.

25. Laughing is exercise for your spirit.

26. You can’t out-exercise a bad attitude.

27. Fresh air and sunshine help almost everything.

Treat your body like a beloved old house: keep it tended, respect its quirks, and it will shelter you well.

Lesson #7 – Health Habits

Small, steady habits are the threads that weave a healthy life. The trick is to notice them and keep them going.

28. Listen to your body. It whispers before it shouts.

29. Health is built from hundreds of small choices, not one big change.

30. Water is your friend.

31. You’re never too old to be a beginner.

Small steps add up over decades. Your future self will thank you.

Lesson #8 – Creativity Sparks

Creativity isn’t a luxury; it’s one of the ways I’ve healed, grown, and stayed curious about life.

32. Creativity is a form of self-care.

33. Writing teaches you what you think.

34. Reading is time travel without the jet lag.

35. Your stories matter, even if you think they’re ordinary. Someone needs to hear them (even if it’s you!)

Creativity isn’t just for artists. It’s for anyone who wants to feel more alive.

Lesson #9 – Learning & Growth

The world never runs out of things to learn. Staying curious keeps life fresh and full of possibility.

36. Curiosity is ageless.

37. Start before you feel ready.

38. Perfectionism is just fear in fancy clothes.

39. Every skill starts with awkward first attempts.

Stay curious. It’s the closest thing we have to a fountain of youth.

Lesson #10 – Purpose & Work

Purpose has been less about “finding my calling” and more about choosing to make my days count.

40. Making things is good for your soul.

41. Purpose isn’t found, it’s created.

42. Work that helps others is never wasted.

43. Sometimes “good enough” is actually perfect.

Your work matters, not because it’s perfect, but because it’s yours.

Lesson #11 – Work & Worth

I’ve learned to measure my life less by the tasks I tick off and more by the people and moments that matter.

44. You can leave a job and still keep the lessons.

45. Helping others often helps you even more.

46. Your worth is not measured in productivity.

47. You get to define success for yourself.

You’re worth more than your productivity. Always.

Lesson #12 – Aging Well

Aging isn’t something I fight; it’s something I shape, one choice at a time.

48. If you can’t see the purpose in your day, create one.

49. Some seasons are for doing; others are for being.

50. Kindness counts as a legacy.

51. Age is a privilege denied to many.

Live in a way your younger self would admire.

Lesson #13 – Joy in Aging

There’s a lightness that comes with age – the freedom to be yourself without apology.

52. Wrinkles are just life’s laughter lines.

53. Keep learning new things – it keeps your brain spry.

54. Style has no age limit.

55. You don’t have to pretend you’re younger – you can be fabulous now.

The older you get, the more you realize – joy was never in the things. It was in the moments.

Lesson #14 – Living Fully

I try to make plans that give me something to look forward to, no matter my age or stage.

56. Share your stories. They’re the bridge to younger generations.

57. Adaptation is the secret to aging well.

58. Don’t stop making plans.

59. The best anti-aging treatment is joy.

Life isn’t a dress rehearsal. Wear the bright scarf. Order dessert. Say yes.

Lesson #15 – Everyday Joy

It’s the little things – the tea, the laughter, the small adventures – that make a life big.

60. Every decade has its own kind of beauty.

61. A cup of tea can solve more than you think.

62. Travel – even just to the next town.

63. Treasure the small pleasures.

Joy hides in plain sight. Practice spotting it.

Lesson #16 – Perspective

With time, I’ve learned that what feels urgent today may be invisible tomorrow.

64. Be generous with compliments.

65. Keep a sense of humor handy.

66. Music can lift you when nothing else will.

Time gives you the gift of seeing what matters, and what was just noise.

Lesson #17 – Peace of Mind

Peace comes when I choose what to hold onto – and what to let go.

67. Children make life richer.

68. Speak kindly – especially to yourself.

69. Nature is the best therapist.

70. Celebrate small wins.

71. This too shall pass – and so will that.

Let go of the need to be right. Trade it for the freedom to be at peace.

Lesson #18 – Hard-Won Wisdom

Some truths only reveal themselves after many seasons of life.

72. The people you admire have struggles you can’t see.

73. Most problems look smaller in the morning.

74. You can’t control everything – but you can choose your response.

75. Don’t believe every thought you think.

76. You’ll never regret being kind.

77. Some answers only come with time.

78. A good story, a good hug, and a good laugh – can heal more than you expect.

You can’t rush wisdom. But you can keep your heart open until it arrives.

Day 19 – (Early) Birthday Post 🎂

🎂 At 78 Years Old: What I Know for Sure

Some people see birthdays as a marker of what’s been lost. I see them as proof of what’s been gained: perspective, laughter lines, patience, and the deep knowing that joy and sorrow can exist in the same day, and that’s perfectly okay.

I also see them as a marker of how deep is forgiveness of my self for all those choices I made that turned out wrong, for the hurts I caused others, for the things I didn’t see when my focus was out of alignment.

I’ve learned that life isn’t about avoiding the storms – it’s about knowing where to find the shelter, and who to share it with.

It’s about keeping curiosity alive, loving with an open hand, and remembering that kindness costs nothing and changes everything.

To those who’ve walked beside me in any chapter of these 78 years: thank you.

To those who are just joining my story: welcome.

Here’s to the next chapter – and to finding joy in it, every single day. 💛

And look out for expansions on some of the experiences that lead to these 78 lessons in future Newsletters.

Thank you!

With love
Stephanie

Why I Write – for you and for me too.

Some stories come from lived experience, like navigating my son’s addiction and the long road of recovery. Others are shaped by imagination, like the cozy mystery I’m writing, set in a small café where trust is both tested and rebuilt. Some of my life stories still bring tears. Others make me smile. And many are filled with memories that warm my heart.

I write for anyone who’s ever carried a burden across generations, and for anyone who longs to heal forward.

My thoughts for Living Life in 2025 and beyond:

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“My religion is kindness”

Dalai Lama

“Cast your bread upon the waters and it will
come back – buttered”

Doris May Payne – my mother

“Life is a Daring Adventure or Nothing”

Helen Keller

“Write it on my heart that every day is
the best day of the year”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Remember that sometimes not getting
what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck”
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Dalai Lama

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave [person] is not [the one] who does not feel afraid, but [the one] who conquers that fear.”

Nelson Mandela

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http://www.StephanieHammondAuthor.com

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