We've put more effort into helping folks reach old age than into

Hear me, O children of wisdom, for the words of Frank A. Clark carry with them a solemn truth that resonates deeply in the heart of all who walk the path of life: “We’ve put more effort into helping folks reach old age than into helping them enjoy it.” These words strike at the core of our modern existence, where we pour immense effort into extending life, yet often fail to nurture the quality of that life in its later stages. We have become so focused on ensuring that we reach the years of old age—that we prolong the very act of living—that we neglect the joy, the peace, and the fulfillment that should accompany the twilight of our days.

In the ancient world, the concept of old age was one of reverence and wisdom. The Greeks, with their deep understanding of balance in life, saw old age not merely as a time of decline, but as a stage of life to be embraced and honored. They believed that age brought with it wisdom, a kind of enlightenment that only comes from the lessons of living. Socrates, though his body grew frail, continued to teach and engage with the world, not merely for the sake of knowledge, but for the joy of contributing to the minds of the young. Plato and Aristotle, too, acknowledged the grace and beauty that could be found in the wisdom of age. But they also recognized that it was not just the quantity of life that mattered, but its quality—the sense of purpose that must accompany the years, so that one’s latter days were filled not with regret or boredom, but with meaningful engagement.

Yet, in the modern world, we have become so enamored with extending life—with the sheer biological act of survival—that we have forgotten the deeper meaning of living well. We invest heavily in healthcare, striving to prolong the lifespan, but fail to offer the tools and knowledge that allow individuals to find joy and contentment in the aging process. We see it in the way we regard old age—often with fear, with avoidance, or with an assumption that the elderly are doomed to a life of loneliness, illness, and diminishment. But Clark’s words remind us that we must reframe our approach: it is not enough to simply add years to life; we must learn to add life to those years.

Take, for example, the life of Cicero, the great Roman statesman and philosopher. In his later years, Cicero wrote some of his most profound works, filled with reflections on philosophy, ethics, and the meaning of life. Though he faced personal tragedy, the loss of loved ones, and the decay of his physical body, Cicero did not see old age as a time to withdraw or retreat. Rather, he saw it as a time to share his knowledge, to engage in meaningful reflection, and to guide others toward living virtuous lives. Cicero’s last years were filled with purpose and intellectual engagement. He understood that the value of life lies not in the number of years we accumulate, but in the ways we live those years—how we continue to contribute, to learn, and to experience joy even as we age.

Clark’s observation speaks to this imbalance: we put so much emphasis on survival, yet we often fail to provide the necessary tools for the elderly to truly enjoy those years. Our society places a premium on youth, on productivity, and on independence, but in doing so, we often overlook the need for the elderly to experience fulfillment in their later years. Just as the ancient philosophers revered aging, understanding it as a time for deep reflection and growth, so too must we learn to treat old age as an opportunity for joy—for the enjoyment of life’s later stages, where the mind and heart are free to roam in the realms of memory, peace, and connection.

The lesson here is clear: we must place as much effort into helping people enjoy old age as we do into ensuring they reach it. This involves not just providing the means for physical survival, but creating a society where purpose, meaning, and joy are available to all, regardless of their age. Elderly people must not be seen as burdens or isolated figures, but as vital members of society who still have much to offer. We must foster communities that encourage the engagement of the elderly in meaningful activities—whether through learning, teaching, or simple pleasures—so that their later years are marked not by boredom or regret, but by the fullness of life, lived with joy.

In your own life, honor the elderly around you by creating spaces for them to find meaning and joy. Engage with them, listen to their stories, and offer opportunities for them to share their wisdom. At the same time, approach your own aging with a mindset that celebrates purpose and connection, rather than fearing the passage of time. Just as Cicero and the ancient philosophers found wisdom and peace in their later years, so too can we. We must reframe the way we view aging—seeing it not as a time of loss, but as a time of growth, reflection, and joyful living.

Let this be your guiding principle: to truly honor life, we must not only seek to preserve it, but to enrich it at every stage. Find the joy in each year, in each moment, and carry that joy into the later years, so that when the time comes, you may look back not with regret, but with a heart full of gratitude and fulfillment. Cherish the years as they come, for they are not to be feared, but to be embraced with joy and purpose, making the latter days a continuation of all that is good and meaningful in the journey of life.