What drives me now?

I sometimes think about what drives me now compared to what drove me for much of my earlier life.

For many years, although I wasn't always aware of it, a lot of my decisions were shaped by a search for worthiness. Like many people, I wanted to prove something. To myself. To others. To the world.

These days, that drive has largely fallen away.

I feel whole, safe and enough without needing to earn those feelings. That shift has changed almost everything.

Being in my early sixties has also brought a stronger awareness that time is limited. Not in a dramatic way. Simply in a practical one. The future no longer feels endless.

That awareness has made me more intentional about how I spend my days. More interested in presence than productivity. More drawn to stillness than constant activity.

I find myself appreciating very simple things. A morning walk. A cup of tea. Time spent with my dog. A conversation. A quiet afternoon creating.

The interesting thing is that life doesn't seem smaller because of this. It seems richer.

Joy is easier to find than it used to be. Not because circumstances are perfect, but because my attention has changed. I notice more.

One area where this shift has shown up is in my artwork.

Until recently, I approached art with the idea that it should eventually become a profitable business. Today I see it differently.

I create because I enjoy creating. If a painting resonates with someone and they would like to give it a home, that's wonderful. My intention is simply to cover the costs of materials and shipping so I can continue making new work and keep it affordable for those who enjoy it.

The real reward for me is not the sale itself. It is knowing that something I enjoyed creating continues its journey and becomes part of someone else's daily life.

I also find myself wanting to encourage creativity in others. Not because everyone should become an artist, but because creativity belongs to everyone. It can be expressed through painting, writing, gardening, cooking, building, solving problems or simply seeing familiar things in a new way.

When people give themselves permission to create freely, something shifts.

Another change is how I care for my body.

I pay more attention to how I treat it now. Not because I am trying to fight ageing, but because I have a greater appreciation for the role it plays. It carries me through my days. It allows me to walk, create, explore and participate in life. That feels worth looking after.

Perhaps the biggest surprise has been the decline of my need for external validation.

For a long time, I believed I had already found peace. Looking back, I probably had, to a degree. Yet somehow there is an even deeper peace available when the need for approval begins to loosen its grip.

Life becomes simpler.

There is less proving and more being.

One thing that has not disappeared is curiosity.

If anything, it has become stronger. Not necessarily curiosity about doing more or accumulating more knowledge, but curiosity about life itself. About connection. About awareness. About what can be discovered when we pay closer attention.

Getting older has not reduced my interest in life.

It has refined it.

These days, what drives me is not the pursuit of worthiness, achievement or recognition.

It is presence.

It is creativity.

It is curiosity.

And it is making good use of the time that remains.