Have you ever met someone and felt your heart just know? Like your spirit recognized theirs before your minds even caught up to the conversation. That is how I felt the first time I sat with Shirley Johnson, my neighbor, and now one of the dearest souls in my life.
Some connections arrive that way. Soul-knowing, I call them. The kind where you find yourself nodding before they finish a sentence. The kind where life keeps revealing one more shared thread, and another, and another, until you laugh out loud at how clearly the universe has woven you together.
Shirley and I have a list of those threads. She lived for years in Traverse City, Michigan, the very town my daughter Michele calls home. Her husband was the principal of Scottsdale High School, where I went to school. She and her husband served as park rangers on Orcas Island, which I called home for years. Not one of those overlaps would have been enough on its own. Together, they felt like a love letter from life itself.
What really drew me in was Shirley herself. Her zest. Her warm smile. Her engagement with life. The way she chooses her words on purpose, intentional about what she says and how she says it. The way she looks for blessings inside of challenges. At 90-something years young, she radiates the kind of energy I want to be carrying when I am in my 90s, and the kind I want to be carrying right now.
So one day I asked her. Shirley, how do you stay so positive, so engaged, so happy?
She did not pause. She had a list ready. The kind of list a person earns by living it.
Here are the six mantras Shirley shared with me:
- You cannot change the wind, but you can adjust your sails.
- Don’t sweat the small stuff.
- God gave me a brain, so I better use it.
- Surround yourself with wonderful people.
- Remember, there are many people with bigger problems than yours.
- Be grateful for the love of your family.
Then she added something I keep turning over in my heart. She told me she was raised on a farm. Simpler times. No computers, no phones, no AI. Just people and weather and work and family. There is a wisdom in that I think we are all hungry to remember.
Shirley once shared with me something her sister Joan said to her, and it has lived in my heart ever since. Joan told her, “You have silver friends and gold friends. You are my gold friend, my treasure.” That is exactly what Shirley is to me too. A treasure. A gold friend.
This is also why Standing Tall is built on the truth that we need each other. Our mental and emotional wellbeing is woven into the relationships around us, especially the ones right next door. The neighbor you wave to. The friend you bump into at the grocery store. The wise woman on the corner who has lived through more than we can imagine and has lessons we cannot get from any book.
Our seniors are carrying treasure. We just have to slow down long enough to receive it.
Over the next six weeks, I am going to walk through each of Shirley’s mantras with you. We will unpack them, hold them up to our own lives, and find the practical, applicable wisdom hiding in each one. I cannot wait to share what Shirley has been teaching me. I think you will find, as I have, that her words do not just live in her generation. They live in ours too, if we are willing to listen.
For now, take a slow breath and consider this. Who is the wise soul nearest to you right now? Not on a podcast, not on a screen, but down the street, across the hall, around the corner. What might happen if you knocked on their door this week?
Standing Tall is, at its heart, a community of people who believe hope is built through connection. If something in Shirley’s story stirred your heart, I invite you to come closer. Share this with someone who might need it. Reach out to a neighbor. And if you feel called to support our community with your time, your attention, your words, or a contribution of any kind, we welcome you with open arms. Every act of love adds light to the world we are building together.
Stay tuned. Next week we open Mantra One: You cannot change the wind, but you can adjust your sails. It is a good one.
With love,
Colleen
