As my mom got older, she used to look in the mirror and say, “When did this happen?”

Not angry. Not resentful. Just… observing.

With a bit of humor. The face looking back wasn’t the one she expected to see. The wrinkles, the sagging cheeks, the sunspots – she noted them, but they certainly didn’t match the person she was on the inside.

“Wait,” she’d tell me with a smile, “you’ll see.”

Today, remembering those moments still warms my heart.

My mom survived Auschwitz. She lost her parents and entire family. So when she spoke about aging, she knew she was lucky to be alive. As she watched her face change, what I most admired was her ability to not be a victim to it.

She accepted aging without letting it make her small.[SM1]   She started taking tennis lessons at 60!

Ever since I turned 40, I’ve had a tradition of treating myself to a special gift on my birthday – one that will improve my life in some way.

This year, I’m treating myself to two gifts that will keep me from getting small. First, I’ve switched to a two-handed backhand.

I’ve been playing tennis on a single-handed backhand all my life. My coach at La Costa Tennis Resort – my adorable, candid, French coach, was very direct with me: Your backhand is a liability. You need to switch.

So, I’m learning. I’m bad at it. I’m a beginner again in a sport I’ve played for years. And I’m signing up for 2-handed backhand lessons because I want to beat Simon on the court, which means I have to get better at the thing I’ve been avoiding.

That’s not comfortable. It’s not supposed to be.

My second gift to myself is that I’m launching Leaders Hub – a small, curated group for founders who know that something is missing when it’s just them running the business.

Twenty years ago, I joined my first peer group. If you’d asked me what actually moved the needle in building Gotcha Covered, it wasn’t the strategy or the hire. It was the room I was in and the other founders I shared it with.

I’m investing in Leaders Hub because I know what it does for entrepreneurs who want to really scale.

Here’s what I understand about staying sharp, staying competitive, staying vibrantly alive at 68:

You don’t keep in the game by getting comfortable. You do it by choosing to be a beginner again.

By walking into a room, or onto a court, where you don’t have all the answers.

By surrounding yourself with people who make you better – and then doing that for others.

My mom accepted her aging body without being victimized by it. She embraced it with humor. She stayed engaged and productive. She didn’t slow down because a mirror told her to.

Neither am I.

When was the last time you did something for the first time?

 

Until next time, Margalit