Doesn’t it feel good to serve others?

No need to be loud and performative. We just need to be there:  the simple, human act of showing up for one another. Putting ourselves out there to help someone else. It’s a high like no other, at least for me.

As we age, many of us begin to see that the most meaningful moments in life are rarely about what we’ve achieved.  They are about connection. I’ve found that my best moments have been about easing another person’s burden, even briefly. That’s when I feel fulfilled.

When I call someone I know is lonely, it affects me. Or when I deliver a meal I made myself. It’s an act of grace to take time to really listen to someone without thinking about my own to-do list. Holding a hand in grief can be a beautiful gift.  Sitting beside another in the dark until they can find their own light again is a blessing that those of us who have never lost the light might not fully appreciate

These things may seem small in the moment, but they are not small.  Service changes both people: the one being helped and the one offering help.

When we serve others with love, something in us softens and expands. The endless preoccupation with ourselves quiets for a while. We can forget the cruelties of the outside world for a moment.

Later in life, many of us have learned that possessions do not warm us the way kindness does. Accomplishments and titles fade. We don’t see the need for applause–it’s fleeting, anyway.

But the memory of having truly been there for another human being?  That remains luminous. At least for me.

There is deep blessing in becoming someone others can lean on, not because we are perfect or endlessly strong, but because we are willing: willing to notice, to care and to love in practical ways.

I learned this in a big way 35 years ago at the peak of the AIDS era, when I trained to do emotional support work with people who had HIV.

And yes, sometimes service is grand, but more often, it is beautifully ordinary:

Making soup.
Sending the note.
Remembering the birthday.
Driving someone to an appointment.
Speaking gently to a tired cashier.
Welcoming someone who feels invisible.

It’s just that simple. These are holy acts, whether the world calls them that or not.

And in serving others, we often discover something surprising: life becomes richer.

The heart does not diminish from giving –it enlarges.

Perhaps that is one of the great truths of aging: we stop asking, “What can life give me?” and begin asking, “How can I bless the life around me while I am still here?”

What a privilege that is, and what a sacred way to spend our days.