“As you move outside of your comfort zone, what was once the unknown and frightening becomes your new normal.” (Robin Sharma)

The ABC television network scored a cultural phenomenon with the recent hit of “The Golden Bachelor” this past year.  The Golden Bachelor is the elder paternal spin-off of their immensely popular romance reality show, “The Bachelor.”  In this geriatric version, female sexagenarians, and septuagenarians, all attractively preserved with the assumed number of nips and tucks, vie for the affection of a silver fox male, whose #1 audition criteria was to look fetching in a tuxedo. The ultimate prize is a last chance at love in their sunset years.  Who knew the introduction of a little blue pill a quarter of a century ago would make senior sex trendy? 

In this season, Gerry, a widower from Indiana at 72 years of age and the Golden Bachelor, chose a woman named Theresa, a widow from New Jersey who at 70 years is admirably fit, to be his happily ever after until the inevitable happens.  It culminated with a final rose ceremony complete with a Neil Lane engagement ring and just enough schmaltz to make it endearing, if not entirely believable.  A ratings bonanza in the form of a televised wedding was to come.   

It came as less of a shock to millions when a mere three months after the nuptials, Gerry and Theresa officially decided to call it quits.  Marriage is a challenge at any age, much more so when it’s done in front of millions of viewers at an age when both spouses, who may have hope in their heart, are still set in their ways.  Acquired life experience doesn’t safeguard against divorce. 

Theresa wrote a thoughtful post on her social media page expressing that while she was disappointed in this outcome, she did not regret a minute of the experience.  I applauded her.  How many of us, particularly at 70 years of age, are willing to step that far out of our comfort zone to reach for a brass ring?  It is an experience that will propel her spirit until her last days, and one that her grandchildren will reminisce about in decades to come. 

Stepping outside of our comfort zone is where the magic lies.  Henry David Thoreau philosophized that “most men lead lives of quiet desperation,” and he’s right.  Playing it safe and close to the vest guarantees less drama in an admittedly crazy world but robs us of the thrill that comes with taking a chance, and an unexpected reward.

The gift of being a sexagenarian-plus is that we tend to care much less about what others think or fear the outcome in risk-taking, and delight more in doing it.  In a life that is probably comprised of many “been there, done that” moments, why not do it again, only this time with a less encumbered spirit?  And, at 60-and-70-ish, you are old enough to have earned a respectable reputation of stability, yet still young enough to avoid the label of eccentric.  It’s the “Three Little Bears” storybook version of chance taking; the bed you choose is soft enough to land, while providing the right amount of bounce. 

When you’re a 40 year old and make an out-of-the-blue phone call to an old flame you dated 20 years ago, it could be considered drunk dialing and perhaps desperate.  When you’re 60, it’s thought to be nostalgic and sentimental. With that AARP card comes a “Get Out of Jail Free” pass with many of our social interactions, and the opportunity to create legendary anecdotes that pair well with a glass of Chardonnay. 

Without risk comes very little reward.  We can remain quiet until we turn to dust, or we can take a leap and use the excuse of our rank to swim in the river of the exciting and uninhibited.  And should you take that chance and develop a case of risk-taker’s remorse, you can always place the blame on some blood pressure medication.  Who’s to know the truth, except your slightly tipsy friend, already two chardonnays in and laughing at your anecdote.