Beyond Our Own Age: A Call to InterAge Living

The value of intergenerational relationships keeps revealing itself to me – not just in research, not just in theory, but in lived, everyday moments.

Recently, a grandmother who lives with her husband and teenage grandson shared something that stopped me in my tracks. Her grandson told her that she had shown him the importance of kind behavior simply through the way she cares for her husband. Imagine that. No lecture. No formal lesson. Just daily modeling of devotion, patience, and tenderness. And even more beautiful – this young man articulated what he had learned.

He is growing up in a culture of kindness.

As many of you know, modeling kindness has always been central to my work. It lives in the small moments: Speak kindly. Act kindly. Pay attention. Do not ignore people. Notice others. See how you can be of service. Engage, even briefly. Put your phone down when someone is speaking to you.

Children – and adults – absorb what we live far more deeply than what we say.

And here is what is increasingly clear: kindness multiplies when generations mix.

A few days ago, I had the privilege of meeting with members of the LifeLong Learning Institute in Chesterfield, Virginia. They offer something called an InterAge program – a term that immediately captured my heart. InterAge celebrates the power of connection across the lifespan. It brings people of different ages together to learn, volunteer, exchange ideas, and build community.

In many ways, this is what I have been promoting for decades under the name “intergenerational relationships.” But InterAge is a wonderful, concise way of describing it: connection across age.

My recent class with them explored how intergenerational relationships strengthen mental health and emotional wellbeing. We discussed how supportive bonds foster resilience, reduce stress, and promote inclusion. We talked about storytelling, shared experiences, and the ways that wisdom flows in both directions – not just from older to younger, but from younger to older as well.

And what made it especially meaningful was that participants of all ages were invited to attend and offer their perspectives.

This, to me, is a model for our society.

For too long, we have organized life by age silos. Schools for the young. Workplaces for midlife. Communities for older adults. Social media that reinforces generational stereotypes. We quietly wonder: “What do I have in common with someone that young? What would I talk about with someone that old? We do not speak the same language. I am afraid I would not know what to say.”

When we look for differences, differences are all we see.

But when we look with curious eyes, something shifts. We become interested. We want another person’s viewpoint on art, music, literature, movies, life. We feel the pull of human connection. And that pull can be the beginning of a conversation.

“What’s that book about? How long have you lived here? Where do you like to travel? What surprised you most at my age? What do you regret not having done? What was a risk you took that you are glad about? Whom did you admire growing up? Do you see differently now?”

When we focus not on age, but on inner experience – on values, dreams, disappointments, humor, longing – we meet the heart of another person. And in this context, hearts do not have ages.

Each generation brings something irreplaceable to the table. The steadiness of experience. The spark of new thinking. The memory of what has been. The imagination of what could be.

Research consistently shows that intergenerational engagement reduces loneliness, strengthens cognitive vitality, increases empathy, and builds community resilience. But beyond the data, there is something simpler and more human: we need each other.

So here is my invitation – my “call to action.”

Stretch beyond your own age group this month. Have coffee with someone 20 years older or 20 years younger than you. Volunteer in a setting that brings ages together. Invite a teenager into a conversation. Ask an older neighbor about their story. Join a mixed-age book group or learning community. Put down assumptions and pick up curiosity.

You do not have to become best friends. You simply have to begin.

Because when we widen the circle with whom we engage, we widen our own emotional, intellectual, and spiritual life. We grow more flexible, more compassionate, more alive.

InterAge living is not a program. It is a mindset.

And perhaps, if we model it consistently – the way that grandmother modeled kindness – someone younger will someday say to us, “You showed me how to be.”

Let us build cultures of kindness that stretch across the lifespan. Let us look beyond age and see the person. Let us practice InterAge living – starting today.

The Art of Holding Things Lightly

I’ve noticed something about the times when I feel most frustrated or disappointed: it’s rarely because something terrible has happened. It’s because something didn’t happen the way I decided it “should.”

We create elaborate mental scripts for how our days “should” unfold, how conversations “must” go, how other people “ought” to behave. Then reality does what it always does – goes its own way – and we feel frustrated or defeated. The tighter we hold to our fixed ideas about how things should be, the more we suffer when life refuses to cooperate and provides an alternative plan.

Here are some ways to hold our expectations more lightly while still caring deeply about what matters:

Notice your “shoulds” and “musts:” Pay attention to how often you think or say these words. “This traffic should be moving faster.” “My child should be more motivated.” “People must respect my time.” Each “should” is a point of rigidity, a place where we’ve decided reality is wrong. Simply noticing these thoughts begins to loosen their grip.

Ask “What else could this mean?”: When something doesn’t go as planned, pause before labeling it as bad. A cancelled meeting might give you unexpected time to rest. A difficult conversation might provide insight and, possibly, deepen a relationship. A detour might lead somewhere interesting. We don’t have to force optimism; just remain open to possibilities we hadn’t considered.

Practice the phrase “interesting” instead of “wrong”: When reality diverges from your plan, try responding with curiosity rather than resistance. “Interesting that they responded that way.” “Interesting that this happened instead.” This small shift in language creates mental space between what you expected and what actually is, allowing you to adapt rather than dig in.

Build in buffer zones: If you expect a project to take two hours, give it three. Rigid timelines create unnecessary suffering because life rarely cooperates with our precise expectations. Flexible planning acknowledges that things take the time they take.

Distinguish between values and methods: We can hold our values firmly while remaining flexible about how we live them. You might value connection with your adult child, but the form that takes – phone calls, texts, visits – can shift based on what works for both of you right now. When we confuse our methods with our values, we create suffering for ourselves and others.

The more flexible we become in how we meet life, the more effective we are. We respond to what is rather than fighting for what should be. We find creative solutions because we’re not locked into one right way. We experience less disappointment because we haven’t decided in advance exactly how things must go. This doesn’t mean we stop having preferences or working toward goals. It means we hold them with an open hand instead of a clenched fist, remaining engaged with life while accepting that we’re participants in something larger and more unpredictable than what we believe we can control.

One Small Brave Thing

I often hear people say: “I just cannot get out of my comfort zone.”

If you’re having trouble stepping outside of what feels safe, try this: Practice one small brave thing each day. Not something dramatic. Not something overwhelming. Just one small, intentional act that stretches you slightly beyond what feels automatic or comfortable.

Comfort zones are not the enemy – they are protective. But when we only stay inside them, our world shrinks. The goal isn’t to eliminate comfort; it’s to expand it.

Here’s how the habit works:

Each morning, ask yourself: “What is one small brave thing I can do today?”

It might be starting a conversation with someone new (see the article I wrote on this in this newsletter). Sharing an opinion you would normally keep to yourself. Asking a question in a meeting. Reaching out to someone from a different generation. Trying a new route, class, or café. Saying “no” when you would usually overcommit. Saying “yes” to something that scares you a little.

The key word is small.

Growth doesn’t usually come from giant leaps. It comes from repeated micro – stretches. Neuroscience tells us that when we do something slightly challenging – not overwhelming – we build confidence circuitry in the brain. Each success becomes evidence: I can handle discomfort.

At the end of the day, take 60 seconds to reflect: What did I do that was brave? What did I learn? Was the fear worse than the reality?

Over time, something powerful happens. What once felt uncomfortable becomes normal. Your comfort zone expands.

And here is the deeper layer: stepping outside your comfort zone builds humility and empathy. When you know what it feels like to be uncertain, new, awkward, or unsure, you may become kinder to others who are stretching too.

If you’d like a simple structure, try this daily rhythm:

Morning: Name your small brave act.

Midday: Notice the discomfort – and breathe through it (you can even place your hand on your heart or on your belly) instead of retreating.

Evening: Acknowledge yourself. Growth deserves recognition.

Courage is not a personality trait. It is a daily practice. One small brave thing a day. That is how a life expands.