Dancing at Sixty-Four: A Life in Motion

NEWTOWN, Conn. - Dec. 9, 2025 - PRLog -- In the months leading up to turning sixty-four, my thoughts have been filled with reflections—on where I've been and where I'm headed. I often return to the child I once was: a shy boy growing up in Eastern Nigeria. My shyness was tempered by my mother's tenacity and my father's pragmatism, a pairing that offered a secure, fertile ground for imagination, curiosity, and confidence.

My mother deserves special mention. Raising ten children—including a set of twins—each with distinct personalities, she somehow kept us all afloat. I've often believed that being the middle child, responsible for neither the major chores nor the predictable household mishaps, granted me the freedom to explore the world unfolding around me. That freedom nurtured my fascination with human nature and, ultimately, my calling to medicine.

Life, though it may not be obvious at first, is a kind of dance. From birth onward, we move through it rhythmically—our steps shifting with the changing music, guided by instinct, shaped by experience.

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At sixty-four, I have long abandoned the youthful illusion of immortality. In its place is a calm acceptance that one day my life will end, and whatever remains will fold back—just as nature intends—into the wider cycle of existence (Anyoha, 2012), of which humanity is but an infinitesimal part.

Still, don't misunderstand me: sixty-four holds plenty of upward momentum. But that energy competes with a gentle pull back toward the source of life, a quiet reminder that we belong to a larger loop. Men my age often confront a slowly encroaching fog of melancholy. Staying engaged in meaningful work, finding healthy ways to play, and being surrounded by loving family all help push back that fog. These anchors allow us to continue the dance with grace, despite the tribulations that seem to settle into daily life at this stage.

I am fortunate. My wife, children, siblings, nieces, nephews, and friends have offered unwavering love and support. And my Saturday-morning pickup soccer teammates in Newtown, Connecticut have added new and joyful steps to the dance as I continue moving through life.

What motivates me most is the desire to become a better person each day—someone who listens, who learns, and who recognizes and respects the viewpoints of others.

Let me end with my latest aphorism: It takes courage to speak up for oneself, but it takes courage with a spine to speak up for others as well.

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