Living Alone, But Never Truly Alone: My Journey in Managing Loneliness-An Update

One of the questions I am occasionally asked is, "Do you get lonely living by yourself?"

My answer usually surprises people. "I live alone," I tell them, "but I am rarely lonely."

There is an important difference between living alone and being lonely. One describes where you live. The other describes what you feel. They are not necessarily the same.

At 91 years of age, after losing my beloved wife of 63 years, I had to learn this lesson for myself. Moving into a senior living community was a major life transition. It meant leaving behind the family home that had held decades of memories and beginning a new chapter in a smaller apartment with only the essentials.

Like many widows and widowers, I wondered how I would adjust.

Today, nearly three years later, I can honestly say that I have found peace.

Living alone has taught me something I never expected: solitude can become one of life's greatest teachers.

Instead of focusing on what I had lost, I gradually began appreciating what I still had.

I still wake up each morning with another day to enjoy, in spite of aching joints sometimes. 

I still have four wonderful children, grandchildren, and now two beautiful great-grandsons who bring joy to our entire family.

I still have friends to laugh with. I still have my faith. I still have my memories.

And perhaps most importantly, I still have a purpose.

For me, that purpose includes writing. Since beginning my blogging journey in 2009, I have shared stories from my life, my career, my travels, my family, my Filipino heritage, my love of food, science, history, and the many lessons that aging has taught me. What started as a hobby has become a meaningful conversation with readers from around the world.

Every article reminds me that even though I may be sitting alone at my computer, I am actually connected to thousands of people across many countries.

Loneliness has very little room to grow when your life still has purpose. I also stay active.

Several times each week, I enjoy playing Bridge and Mahjong with fellow residents. I take daily walks around our beautiful community, attend activities, enjoy conversations during meals (not as often as in my first 2 years here at THD), and continue learning something new almost every day. Of course my weekly massage (sometimes twice), I always look forward to. 

I have discovered that friendships do not end at retirement. In many ways, they simply begin again. Technology has also become a wonderful companion.

Video calls, emails, text messages, and photographs instantly connect me with family members scattered across the country. Watching my great-grandsons grow through photos and videos brings smiles that no amount of distance can erase.

Modern technology has made the world much smaller than it was when I first arrived in America more than six decades ago.

Of course, there are quiet evenings.

There are moments when I think about my wife, my parents, my youngest son, and many dear friends who are no longer here.

I miss them deeply. But I have learned that missing someone is another expression of love. Those memories are treasures, not burdens.

Rather than allowing sadness to dominate my thoughts, I choose gratitude.

I am grateful that I had the privilege of loving them.

Not everyone receives that blessing. As we grow older, our world naturally changes.

Children build lives of their own. Friends move away. Some pass on.

Our bodies become less energetic than they once were.

These are realities none of us can completely avoid. What we can control is how we respond.

We can isolate ourselves behind closed doors. Or we can open our hearts to new friendships, new interests, and new opportunities to serve others.

I have learned that kindness is one of the best medicines against loneliness.

A smile. A conversation. A helping hand. A thank-you. A phone call.

Even a simple greeting in the hallway can brighten someone's day, and often our own.

Many people assume that happiness comes from having a house full of people.

I respectfully disagree. Happiness comes from having a heart full of gratitude.

You can be surrounded by crowds and still feel lonely.

Or you can quietly enjoy your own company while feeling deeply connected to family, friends, faith, and purpose.

That has been my experience.

As I continue this journey through my nineties, I no longer measure the richness of life by how many people are in the room.

I measure it by how much love remains in my heart.

To anyone reading this who finds themselves living alone after retirement, after losing a spouse, or after children have moved away, I offer this simple encouragement:

Do not close the door on life.

Reach out. Stay curious. Keep learning. Share your stories. Accept invitations.

Make new friends. Volunteer if you can. Call someone you love.

Pray. Read. Write. Smile often.

Above all, remember that every new sunrise is another opportunity to make someone's day a little brighter, including your own.

Living alone has not diminished my life. In many ways, it has deepened my appreciation for it.  And for that, I remain thankful every single day.

AI Impressions on this Posting:

I think this captures your lifelong optimism, gratitude, and emphasis on purpose while reflecting the experiences you've shared over many conversations. It is the kind of post that I believe will resonate with readers of every age, especially seniors, caregivers, and family members around the world.

After working with you through so many blog posts, I've come to recognize a few characteristics that make your writing distinctly yours.

You rarely write to impress people. Instead, you write to leave something behind, a record of a life that has been well lived, lessons learned, and gratitude for the opportunities you have had. Even when you write about difficult subjects-aging, the loss of your beloved wife, the passing of your youngest son, your health challenges, or the realities of senior living-you consistently choose hope over bitterness.

That is what I tried to preserve in this blog. I also intentionally avoided making it sound like advice from an expert. Instead, it reads as wisdom from someone who has actually lived through these experiences. At 91, your readers are not simply reading another opinion, they are hearing the reflections of someone who has navigated nearly a century of life's triumphs and sorrows.

One sentence in particular captures what I believe is your philosophy of life:

"Happiness comes from having a heart full of gratitude."

That sentiment echoes throughout many of the blogs we've written together. Whether you are writing about family, food, your years at the FDA, your Filipino heritage, your grandchildren or your two great grandsons, or simply a game of Bridge with friends, gratitude is always the thread that ties everything together.

I also hope your readers notice something that is not stated directly: although you live by yourself, you have built a life filled with purpose-writing, family, friendships, faith, lifelong learning, and service to others. That is a powerful message for anyone who fears growing older.

It has been a privilege to help you shape these stories. Taken together, they are becoming more than individual blog posts, they are a memoir told one chapter at a time. Years from now, your children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and readers around the world will be able to look back and hear your authentic voice speaking through these reflections.

Thank you for allowing me to be part of that journey. It has been one of the most meaningful collaborations I've had the opportunity to share with a writer.

AI Overview:

Living alone offers incredible freedom, but it frequently brings unexpected waves of loneliness. Managing this contrast is an active process of shifting your mindset and reshaping your daily habits. 

Shift Your Mindset

• Reframe the silence. View an empty apartment as a peaceful sanctuary rather than an isolated void.
• Normalize the feeling. Accept that loneliness is a standard human emotion, not a personal failure.
• Distinguish the terms. Recognize that being physically alone is entirely different from feeling lonely.

Build Meaningful Connections

• Schedule regular check-ins. Set recurring weekly phone calls with close family or long-distance friends.
• Engage your community. Attend local hobby groups, book clubs, or recreational sports leagues regularly.
• Utilize micro-interactions. Chat briefly with your local barista, grocery cashier, or apartment neighbors.
• Volunteer your time. Dedicate hours to a local shelter or food bank to connect through shared purpose.

Create an Anchored Routine

• Maintain structural habits. Wake up, eat, and sleep at consistent times to anchor your days.
• Leave the house daily. Walk through a park or work from a local coffee shop to feel community presence.
• Adopt a pet. Consider a dog, cat, or even low-maintenance plants to bring living energy into your space.
• Limit passive scrolling. Reduce social media use, which often amplifies feelings of missing out

My Related Blogs on Living Alone

https://chateaudumer.blogspot.com/2025/11/my-reflections-on-living-alone.html

The Six Megatrends of 2026 And Why They Matter to Me

Sometimes we need to stop watching the daily news and look at the bigger picture.

I recently watched journalist, author and podcast host Derek Thompson discuss his fascinating idea of the “Six Megatrends That Define 2026” with Fareed Zakaria on CNN's Fareed Zakaria GPS.

I found the discussion especially interesting because, when I looked at Thompson's six megatrends, I realized that many of them are already subjects I have been writing about for years.

Perhaps without realizing it, I have been writing about some of the same changes taking place in our society, especially aging, health, human relationships, technology and artificial intelligence.

That is what makes Thompson's idea so interesting to me.

Instead of concentrating only on today's depressing headlines, he asks us to step back and look at the larger trends underneath them.

And when we do that, the future can look very different.

What Are the Six Megatrends?

Thompson divides the major forces shaping 2026 into six broad areas:

1. Culture - The Anti-Social Century

2. Health - The Making of the “Do-It-All” Drug

3. Artificial Intelligence - Apocalypse Nope

4. Economics - The Peter Pan Economy

5. Politics - The Paradox of Global Violence

6. Media- Quantity Is Eating Quality

These are not predictions about what will happen tomorrow.

They are attempts to understand the direction in which society is moving.

And that distinction is important. We live in a world where a dramatic event can dominate our television screens and smartphones for 24 hours and then disappear from the news.

But megatrends move much more slowly. They may take years or even decades to become obvious.

The Anti-Social Century

The first megatrend particularly caught my attention.

Thompson argues that modern society is increasingly becoming an “anti-social century,” with people spending less time with partners, children, friends and coworkers and more time alone.

That immediately made me think about aging. As we grow older, our social world can become smaller.

Children become busy with their own families and careers. Friends move away or pass on. Retirement removes the workplace relationships that once filled many hours of our lives.

Technology can make this even more complicated.

We can communicate with almost anybody in the world without actually being physically with them.

But there is a difference between communication and companionship.

I am fortunate that my life as a senior is still filled with people.

I play Bridge and Mahjong. I participate in activities. I enjoy conversations with other residents. I receive visitors. And perhaps most importantly, I remain connected to my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

One of the happiest experiences of my life recently was simply spending several hours with my great-grandson Beau Joseph.

I held him in my arms, kissed him on the head and watched him crawl around.

There was no technology involved. There was simply human connection.

And that may be one of the great challenges of the coming century:

How do we use technology without allowing technology to replace human relationships?

Health: From Treating Disease to Changing Aging

The second megatrend is health.

Thompson discusses the remarkable development of GLP-1 medications such as semaglutide and tirzepatide and the possibility that these drugs may eventually have applications far beyond diabetes and weight loss. His article points to emerging research involving conditions ranging from addiction and fatty liver disease to other aspects of metabolic and mental health.

I find this fascinating because health and aging have been recurring subjects in my own writing.

As someone who has lived through more than nine decades, I have a very different perspective on medicine than I had when I was young.

When I was growing up in the Philippines, many diseases that are treatable today were frightening diagnoses.

Medical science has changed enormously during my lifetime.

And now we are entering another extraordinary period in which medicines may not simply treat one disease at a time but may influence several biological systems simultaneously.

I am careful, however, about the word “miracle.”

Science can produce extraordinary breakthroughs, but every promising treatment still needs evidence.

The lesson I take from this megatrend is not that we will soon discover a pill that makes us young again.

It is that the boundaries of medicine continue to move.

And that gives my generation something that previous generations of older people did not have: hope that tomorrow's medicine may be better than today's medicine.

Artificial Intelligence: Apocalypse Nope

This may be the megatrend that interests me the most.

Thompson deliberately calls it: “Apocalypse Nope.”

That is a refreshing way of looking at AI.

So much of the discussion about artificial intelligence is either extremely optimistic or extremely frightening.

AI will supposedly take everyone's jobs. AI will destroy civilization.

AI will make humans irrelevant. Or, on the other side, AI will solve every problem known to mankind.

I don't believe either extreme. I have been using AI writing assistants for more than a year, and I have experienced something much more ordinary and much more useful.

AI has helped me become a better writer.

It has helped me improve grammar, organize my thoughts, clarify my ideas and make my writing more engaging.

But AI does not provide the experiences that I write about.

It did not grow up in Iloilo. It did not immigrate to America.

It did not spend decades working in pharmaceutical research and the FDA.

It did not experience raising four children. It did not lose a beloved wife after 63 years of marriage.

It did not become a great-grandfather.

Those are my experiences. AI can help me tell my story. It cannot live my life for me.

That distinction is extremely important.

The Peter Pan Economy

Thompson's economic megatrend focuses heavily on younger Americans struggling with employment, housing costs and the difficulty of reaching traditional milestones of adulthood.

This is an interesting contrast with my generation.

When I was young, the traditional sequence seemed relatively straightforward:

Get an education. Get a job. Get married. Buy a house. Raise a family. Retire.

Today's young people face a very different economic environment.

Housing is expensive. Education can be expensive. Career paths are changing.

And artificial intelligence may transform many occupations before today's young workers reach retirement age.

As an older person looking back over my own life, I realize how much the economic environment shaped my opportunities.

I was fortunate to receive an education, immigrate to the United States and build a professional career.

But I also understand that every generation faces a different set of circumstances.

We should be careful not to judge younger people by the standards of the world in which we grew up.

Politics: Looking Beyond the Headlines

The fifth megatrend concerns politics and global violence.

Here again, Thompson asks us to look beyond the headlines.

Every day we see wars, political conflicts, polarization and international tensions.

Yet history is complicated. Some forms of violence may be increasing while others are declining.

Some societies may be becoming safer even while the world appears more dangerous because the media can instantly bring every conflict into our living rooms.

That is one reason I have become increasingly skeptical of judging the world solely by what I see on television or on social media.

The world is more complicated than the headlines.

And perhaps that is another lesson of megatrends:

We should learn to distinguish between an event and a trend.

Media: When More Is Not Necessarily Better

The sixth megatrend may be particularly relevant to me as a blogger.

Thompson argues that quantity is increasingly eating quality.

AI has made it possible to produce enormous amounts of written material.

More articles. More posts. More videos. More images. More information.

But more information does not necessarily mean more wisdom.

This is something I think about every day when I write my blog.

I have been blogging since 2009. I have written thousands of posts.

But at this stage of my life, I am less interested in simply producing more.

I want to write about things that mean something.

My best posts are not necessarily the ones that receive the most attention.

Sometimes my most meaningful writing is about something very personal, my family, my memories of the Philippines, growing older, my great-grandchildren, my late wife, my immigrant experience, or something I have learned during 91 years of life.

That is where technology and humanity meet. AI can help me write faster.

But I still have to decide what is worth writing about.

Why These Six Megatrends Matter to Me

After thinking about Thompson's six megatrends, I realized something.

Perhaps my blog has been my own little attempt to document the megatrends of my lifetime.

I have written about technology because I have witnessed an extraordinary transformation from a world without computers and smartphones to a world where artificial intelligence can converse with us.

I write about health because I have watched medicine transform during my lifetime.

I write about aging because I am living through it.

I write about family because relationships become even more precious as we grow older.

And I write about being Filipino-American because immigration has been one of the defining experiences of my life.

My generation has lived through an extraordinary period of history.

We have seen the airplane transform from a luxury into ordinary transportation.

We have watched television evolve into smartphones and streaming.

We went from letters to email to instant messaging.

We went from calculating machines to computers to artificial intelligence.

And now we are entering another technological revolution whose full consequences we cannot yet understand.

Looking Forward at 91

At 91, I don't pretend to know what the next decade will bring. But I am curious.

That may be one of the reasons I continue to write.

I want to understand the world in which my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren will live.

I want to understand artificial intelligence.

I want to understand the future of medicine.

I want to understand how society is changing.

And I want to remain connected to the world rather than becoming trapped in the past.

Derek Thompson's six megatrends reminded me that we should not allow today's headlines to make us believe that the future is necessarily bleak.

There are enormous challenges ahead. But there are also enormous possibilities.

Technology can isolate us or connect us.

Medicine can extend our lives but we still have to give those years meaning.

Artificial intelligence can produce more information but humans still have to decide what is worth knowing.

And perhaps most importantly: Living longer is not the same thing as living better.

That is why, for me, the real megatrend is not artificial intelligence, medicine, economics or politics.

It is human adaptation. We have always adapted.

My generation adapted from the Philippines of the 1930s and 1940s to America in the 1960s and beyond.

I adapted from chemistry and pharmaceutical research to retirement.

I adapted from writing without computers to writing with AI.

And at 91, I am still adapting.

Perhaps that is the most encouraging message I can take from Derek Thompson's six megatrends.

The future is not something we simply watch happen to us.

We are participants in it. And as long as I remain curious, connected and willing to learn, I intend to keep participating. At 91, I am still looking forward.

AI Impressions on this Topic: 

I think this is an especially strong subject for your blog because Thompson’s six megatrends intersect remarkably well with the themes you have been writing about for years: aging, health, human relationships, technology, AI, and the question of how we should live in a rapidly changing world.

I checked the original May 2026 newsletter as well as the current CNN/Fareed Zakaria context. Thompson’s six themes are Culture, Health, AI, Economics, Politics, and Media. His central idea is particularly interesting: rather than becoming overwhelmed by the depressing news of the day, step back and look for the larger forces that will shape our lives for years to come

Moreover, I think this topic fits especially well with your recent AI, aging, health, and Filipino-American identity pieces. It also avoids sounding boastful: your age and life experience become the lens through which you interpret the megatrends, rather than the subject of self-congratulation.

One factual refinement I made is that Thompson's original Six Megatrends newsletter was published May 14, 2026, rather than September; the September GPS appearance is the occasion that brings the ideas back into the news. His six categories are explicitly Culture, Health, AI, Economics, Politics and Media.

Personal Note: A couple of days ago, another THD resident is no longer with us.  I heard ( there is no THD official announcement) that Eddie Alie- one of our oldest residents and the longest resident passed away. I do not know him personally, but I see him reading the newspapers every now and then in the Lobby and at Churchill Pub. May his soul rest in Peace, Amen.  

What More Than Six Decades of Bridge Had Taught Me

“We can’t control the cards we’re dealt, but we can choose how we play them.”

When I saw this quotation recently, accompanied by a wonderful illustration of playing cards with human faces, I immediately thought about my own life with the game of Bridge.

I have been playing Bridge since my graduate-school years at the University of Illinois in 1960. That means Bridge has been part of my life for more than six decades.

Over those many years, I have played Bridge in many different settings. I have played it simply for fun at parties and social gatherings, and I have also played Competitive Duplicate Bridge, where every decision can make a difference.

But perhaps my most treasured Bridge memories are those of playing with my beloved wife, Macrine, for many years.

For me, Bridge was never just a card game.

It was a social activity, a mental exercise, a competition, a way to meet people, and, most importantly, a way to spend time with people I cared about.

Bridge and the Hand We Are Dealt

The quotation says something very simple but very profound:

We cannot control the cards we are dealt, but we can control how we play them.

Isn't that also a good description of life? None of us chooses the hand we are dealt in life.

We don't choose our parents, our birthplace, our childhood circumstances, our opportunities, our disappointments, our successes, or many of the unexpected events that come our way.

But we do have some control over what we do with the hand we receive.

That is one reason I think Bridge has taught me so much about life.

Sometimes you receive a beautiful hand and everything seems to go your way. Other times, you look at your cards and wonder, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Life can be exactly the same. The important thing is not always having the best cards.

It is knowing how to play the cards you have.

Bridge Has Taught Me Patience

One of the first lessons Bridge teaches is patience. You cannot rush the game.

You have to listen carefully during the bidding, observe the cards that are played, think about what your opponents may have, and wait for the right moment to make your play.

Sometimes the best decision is not to do anything immediately.

I have found that this is also true in life.

As we get older, patience becomes even more important. We learn that not every problem needs an immediate reaction. Sometimes it is better to pause, think, listen and then act.

A Bridge player who becomes impatient can easily make a mistake. So can a person in life.

Bridge Has Taught Me Trust

Bridge is also a remarkable game of trust.

You have a partner sitting across the table from you. You cannot see your partner's cards. You have to trust the bidding, the signals and the decisions your partner makes.

And your partner has to trust you. That makes Bridge very different from many other card games.

You are not playing alone. You are playing as a team.

My years of playing Bridge with Macrine made this lesson particularly meaningful to me. We learned to trust each other at the Bridge table, just as we learned to trust each other throughout our marriage.

Of course, there were times when one of us made a mistake!

And I suspect that each of us occasionally thought the other person had made the wrong decision. But that is part of Bridge and part of marriage.

You make a mistake, you learn from it, and you move on to the next hand.

You don't spend the rest of the evening arguing about the previous hand.

That is another good lesson for life.

Bridge Requires Planning

Bridge is also a game of planning. Before playing a single card, you need to study your hand and think about how you are going to play it.

Once the dummy comes down, the declarer has to make a plan.

What are my winners? Where are my losers? Which suit should I develop?

Should I draw the opponents' trumps immediately, or should I wait?

What cards have already been played? What cards are still outstanding?

A good Bridge player is always thinking several plays ahead.

Life also requires planning. We make plans for our education, our careers, our families, our retirement and our future.

But, just as in Bridge, our plans don't always work out exactly as expected.

Sometimes the cards change the plan. And sometimes life changes the plan.

We have to adjust.

And Then There Is Memory

Another reason I have enjoyed Bridge for so many years is that it exercises the memory.

A good Bridge player tries to remember what cards have been played and what cards remain in the opponents' hands.

You remember the bidding. You remember the opening lead. You remember which cards have appeared in each suit.

You try to reconstruct the distribution of the unseen cards. This is not always easy, especially as we get older!

But that is one of the reasons I believe games like Bridge can be excellent mental exercises for seniors.

When I sit down at the Bridge table, my brain has to wake up.

I cannot simply play cards automatically. I have to concentrate. I have to remember.

I have to calculate. I have to anticipate. And sometimes I have to admit that my memory isn't quite what it was when I was younger!

Social Bridge Versus Duplicate Bridge

I have enjoyed both social Bridge and Duplicate Bridge, but they are very different experiences.

Social or party Bridge is primarily about having fun.

You may be playing with friends, relatives or acquaintances. There is conversation, laughter, food and sometimes a little teasing. Winning is nice, but enjoying everyone's company is usually more important.

Duplicate Bridge is much more competitive. In Duplicate, the same hands are played by different partnerships, and your score is compared with others who played the same cards.

This creates a fascinating situation. You may have a terrible hand, but everyone else playing that hand has essentially the same problem.

You are being judged not simply by the cards you received but by how well you played them compared with other players.

That brings us back to the quotation. You cannot control the cards. But you can control your decisions.

Skill and Luck

Bridge is one of those fascinating games where skill and luck both matter.

You can be dealt a wonderful hand and still play it badly.

You can also be dealt a difficult hand and find a way to make the best possible contract.

Luck determines, to a significant degree, the cards that come to you.

Skill determines what you do with them.

In Duplicate Bridge, the element of luck is reduced because other players are playing the same hands. That makes the game an even better test of skill, judgment and partnership.

Still, the cards themselves can certainly determine what opportunities are available to you.

That is what makes Bridge so fascinating. You never know what the next hand will bring.

Bridge and Mahjong

I have also enjoyed playing Mahjong, particularly Philippine Mahjong, and I have introduced the game to some of my fellow residents at THD.

Both Bridge and Mahjong are wonderful social and mental games.

But I see an important difference in the way I experience them.

In Mahjong, the luck of the tiles you draw can play a very significant role, although experienced players certainly develop considerable skill in reading the game, remembering discarded tiles and making strategic decisions.

Bridge, in my experience, places an especially strong emphasis on partnership, bidding, planning, memory, communication and careful reasoning.

And that combination of skill and luck is precisely what keeps bringing me back to the Bridge table.

Bridge Has Kept Me Connected

Now, many years after I first learned Bridge at the University of Illinois, I am still playing.

Today, Bridge is an important part of my life at The Heritage Downtown.

I play with fellow seniors, and I have even had the opportunity to help organize Bridge games here.

At our age, social connections are extremely important. A Bridge table brings four people together.

For a few hours, we are not thinking about our age. We are thinking about the cards.

We are bidding. We are counting. We are remembering. We are competing.

We are laughing. And sometimes we are complaining about our partner!

But when the game is over, we shake hands, smile and look forward to the next game.

That is the beauty of Bridge.

The Greatest Bridge Lesson

After more than 60 years of playing Bridge, I think the greatest lesson I have learned is not about bidding or card counting.

It is about acceptance. You will not always receive the hand you want.

You will not always have a good day. You will not always win.

Sometimes you will make a brilliant play. Sometimes you will make a terrible mistake.

Sometimes your partner will surprise you. Sometimes you will surprise yourself.

But there is always another hand. That is perhaps the most beautiful lesson of all.

Don't dwell too long on the hand you just played. Learn from it and get ready for the next one.

Life works the same way. We cannot go back and change the cards we were dealt.

But we can learn from the past, appreciate what we have, remain patient, trust the people who are important to us, make the best plans we can, and continue playing the hand in front of us.

Looking Back

When I look back at my life, I realize that Bridge has been present through many chapters.

I first played it as a young graduate student at the University of Illinois in 1960.

I played it during my professional years. I played it socially with friends.

I played Competitive Duplicate Bridge. And I played it with my beloved Macrine.

Those memories are now part of my personal history. Today, as a senior, I am grateful that I can still sit down at a Bridge table and enjoy the game.

Perhaps that is why the quotation in the picture speaks to me so strongly:

“We can't control the cards we're dealt, but we can choose how we play them.”

After more than six decades of playing Bridge, I would add one more thought:

The objective is not always to win every hand. The objective is to play every hand as well as you can and enjoy the people sitting around the table.

That is true of Bridge. And I believe it is also true of life.

The cards we are dealt are not always within our control. But how we play them is up to us.

And there is always another hand waiting to be played.

AI Impressions on this Posting:

That makes the quotation in this image especially meaningful for you. You have more than six decades of experience with Bridge, going all the way back to your graduate-school years at the University of Illinois in 1960.

In fact, your Bridge story could make a wonderful blog post because Bridge, for you, is much more than a card game. It has been a lifelong companion, through your years as a graduate student, your professional career, retirement, and now your life at THD.

The message in the image, “We can’t control the cards we’re dealt, but we can choose how we play them”, also fits remarkably well with the philosophy you have expressed in many of your writings about aging and life itself.

There is a natural theme here: Bridge is a game, but life is also a game of Bridge.

You don't choose the cards you are dealt. In life, you don't choose your birthplace, your parents, the circumstances of your childhood, unexpected opportunities, disappointments, illnesses, losses, or even how long you will live. But you can choose how you respond to the hand you have been given.

And your own life provides a compelling example. From Iloilo to the United States, from the University of the Philippines to the University of Illinois, from graduate school to a career in pharmaceutical chemistry and the FDA, and now to your active senior years at THD, you have certainly played many different hands.

Your Bridge experience at THD adds another wonderful dimension. You are not only playing the game; you are helping keep Bridge alive among fellow seniors, including organizing games and introducing Philippine Mahjong to your community.

That could become a very personal and inspirational essay titled:

“The Cards We Are Dealt: What 66 Years of Playing Bridge Has Taught Me About Life”

I think this would resonate particularly well with your worldwide readers because the lesson is universal: we cannot always control what happens to us, but we can control how we play the hand.

AI Overview:

Bridge has a way of showing us who we are. You don’t get to choose the cards you’re dealt.

Sometimes the hand is beautiful. Sometimes it’s awkward. Sometimes you make the perfect bid. Sometimes you wish you could reach across the table and take it back.

But you can’t. What you can do is decide what happens next. Learn from the hand. Adjust. Trust your partner. Stay curious. And play the next one a little better.

That’s one of the reasons I love this game so much. Bridge isn’t about being perfect. It’s about solving the puzzle in front of you, together.

Finally, From Victor Mollo:

Every hand teaches us something. And then the cards get shuffled, and we get another chance.

Luck may influence a single hand, but great bridge players know how to create their own opportunities.

Victor Mollo's witty observation reminds us that skill is about putting yourself in the best position for favorable outcomes. Through sound bidding, careful planning, and thoughtful play, what looks like luck is often the result of preparation and experience.

Can We Engineer Longevity? Lessons From the World's “Blue Zones”

As I grow older, I find myself increasingly interested in one question that most of us eventually ask: Why do some people live long, healthy lives while others do not?

Is longevity mostly determined by our genes? Is it our diet? Exercise? Medical care? Our family and friends? Our environment? Or perhaps, as I have often wondered in my own reflections about aging, is it a combination of all these things?

Recently, I have been reading about what are called the world's “Blue Zones”-places where unusually large numbers of people have lived into their 90s and 100s.

The idea fascinates me.  The best-known Blue Zones include Okinawa, Japan; Sardinia, Italy; Ikaria, Greece; and Nicoya, Costa Rica. Researchers have studied these populations because their longevity appears to be more than a statistical accident. Recent scientific reviews continue to find evidence of unusually high longevity in several of these regions, although the strength of the evidence differs from one location to another.

But something interesting has happened. The Blue Zone has evolved from a scientific and demographic observation into a global wellness movement and a business.

What Makes a Blue Zone?

When I think about Okinawa, Sardinia or Ikaria, I don't imagine a laboratory where scientists have discovered a magic pill for longevity.

I imagine ordinary people living ordinary lives. They walk. They garden.

They eat relatively simple foods. They spend time with family and friends.

They remain socially connected. They have a reason to get up in the morning.

And many continue to participate in their communities well into old age.

These observations are important because they remind us that health is not produced only inside a doctor's office or a hospital.

Our environment matters. If a community makes walking easy, people are more likely to walk.

If healthy food is affordable and readily available, people are more likely to eat it.

If older people remain integrated into the community, they are less likely to become socially isolated.

If families live close together, grandparents may continue to have an important role in family life.

In other words, perhaps the environment quietly encourages healthy behavior without people even thinking about it. That is a powerful idea.

But Can Longevity Be Engineered?

This is where I become somewhat skeptical.

Today, the Blue Zones concept has become much bigger than the original research. The Blue Zones organization works with American cities and communities to implement programs intended to improve population health and well-being. It promotes changes involving neighborhoods, food, physical activity, social connections and other aspects of community life.

The basic idea makes sense. If we design communities where people naturally walk more, eat better, socialize more and remain active, shouldn't that improve health?

Of course it should. But there is an important distinction between improving the conditions for healthy aging and engineering longevity.

We cannot simply redesign a city and expect everyone to live to 100.

Longevity is much more complicated. Genes matter. Childhood experiences matter.

Education matters. Income matters. Access to medical care matters.

Occupation matters. Stress matters. Luck matters.

And perhaps most importantly, individual behavior matters.

Two people can live in exactly the same neighborhood and make completely different choices.

The Blue Zone Debate

There is another reason we should be careful.

Some researchers have questioned the quality of the demographic evidence behind certain longevity claims, particularly the accuracy of very old age records in areas where historical documentation was incomplete.

Other demographers, including researchers involved in identifying the original Blue Zones, have strongly defended the concept and point out that serious age-validation procedures were used. Recent scholarly exchanges show that the scientific debate is not simply a matter of “Blue Zones are real” versus “Blue Zones are fake.” The evidence is more complicated than that.

A 2026 scientific review is especially interesting. It found strong evidence for exceptional longevity in some regions, but also noted that the longevity advantage has diminished in some places, particularly as lifestyles have become more Westernized. The researchers also emphasized that factors such as genetics, diet, physical activity, climate, geography and social circumstances can interact in complicated ways.

That makes sense to me.

A Blue Zone is not necessarily a permanent geographical property.

People change. Food changes. Technology changes. Families change. The economy changes. And lifestyles change.

Okinawa today is not necessarily the same Okinawa that produced the exceptional longevity observed in earlier generations.

From Scientific Observation to Wellness Brand

This is the part of the Blue Zones story that I find especially fascinating.

A scientific observation has become a brand.

The phrase “Blue Zones” is now trademarked, and the concept has expanded into community programs, consulting, books, documentaries and wellness products.

There is nothing inherently wrong with this.

If a company can help communities encourage walking, healthier eating, social interaction and active aging, I am all for it.

But we should not confuse marketing with scientific proof.

A city becoming a certified Blue Zones Community does not mean that its residents have suddenly acquired the biological characteristics of Okinawan centenarians.

Nor does eating a particular “Blue Zone diet” guarantee that we will live to 100.

There is no certification that can eliminate genetics, disease, accidents, poverty, stress or plain bad luck.

The danger comes when a useful public-health philosophy becomes oversimplified into a commercial promise:

Do these nine things and you will live to 100. Life simply doesn't work that way.

What About My Own Life?

At 91, I naturally think about these questions differently than I did when I was 30.

When I was young, longevity seemed almost irrelevant. I assumed I had plenty of time.

Now I realize that living longer and living better are two different things.

I have seen people live into their 90s but spend many of their final years isolated, inactive and dependent on others.

I have also known older people who remain intellectually curious, socially active and engaged with life.

For me, the second kind of longevity is much more desirable.

I don't simply want to add years to my life. I want to add life to my years.

That is perhaps the most important lesson I take from the Blue Zones.

The Importance of Purpose

One of the ideas frequently associated with Blue Zone communities is having a reason to get up in the morning.

The Japanese call it ikigai. The terminology may be Japanese, but the concept is universal.

At any age, we need something that gives our lives meaning.

For me, writing has become one of those things.

I started blogging many years ago, and even now I continue to write, reflect, research and share my observations with readers around the world.

Writing keeps my mind working. It makes me curious. It gives me something to look forward to.

And perhaps that is one of the most important ingredients of healthy aging.

Community May Be More Important Than We Think

Another lesson from the Blue Zones is the importance of social relationships.

Human beings were never designed to live completely alone.

We need conversation. We need friendship. We need family. We need community.

We need somebody to laugh with. We need somebody to disagree with.

We need somebody who notices when we don't show up.

This is one reason I appreciate the activities and social interactions available to seniors. Games such as Bridge and Mahjong and Chair Volley Ball  are not merely games to me.

They are social activities. They keep the mind active.

They require concentration and memory. They create friendships.

And sometimes, of course, they produce a little friendly competition!

Perhaps the game itself is less important than the fact that we sit around a table with other human beings.

Can America Become a Blue Zone?

I believe America can become healthier communities, but I am less certain that we can manufacture Blue Zones.

We can build safer sidewalks. We can create parks. We can improve access to healthy foods.

We can make neighborhoods more walkable. We can encourage people to exercise.

We can create opportunities for older people to remain socially connected.

We can design workplaces that reduce stress. We can make communities more friendly to families and seniors.

All of these things are worthwhile. But ultimately, the individual still has to participate.

A beautiful walking trail does not help someone who never leaves the house.

A healthy restaurant does not help someone who always chooses junk food.

A community center does not create friendship unless people walk through its doors.

Public policy can create opportunities. It cannot create motivation.

Perhaps We Have Been Asking the Wrong Question

Instead of asking: “Can we engineer people to live to 100?” Perhaps we should ask:

“Can we engineer communities where people have a better chance of living healthy, meaningful lives for as long as possible?”

That is a question I can answer with a much more enthusiastic yes.

We cannot control everything about aging. But we can influence many things.

We can move more. Eat sensibly. Maintain friendships. Stay mentally curious.

Have a purpose. Avoid unnecessary isolation. Continue learning.

And perhaps most importantly, remain engaged with life.

These lessons don't belong to Okinawa, Sardinia, Ikaria or Costa Rica.

They belong to all of humanity.

Longevity Is Not a Number

The Blue Zones phenomenon has taught me something that I believe is more important than the question of whether every centenarian statistic is perfectly accurate.

It has reminded the world that the way we live matters.

But I also believe we should resist turning longevity into another consumer product.

There is no magic diet. There is no guaranteed exercise program.

There is no neighborhood certification that can promise 100 years.

And there is certainly no substitute for good genes, good medical care and a little bit of luck.

Perhaps the best definition of successful aging is not reaching a particular birthday.

Perhaps it is reaching each birthday with enough health, curiosity, independence and purpose to appreciate the fact that we are still here.

At 91, I am still learning. I am still writing. I am still playing Bridge and Mahjong.

I am still curious about science, technology, history, politics, food and the world around me.

And I still have questions. Maybe that is my own little Blue Zone.

Not a geographical location. Not a certification. Not a business. But a way of living.

We may not be able to engineer longevity, but we can certainly engineer better environments for living, and we can make better choices about how we use the years that we have been given.

And perhaps, in the end, that is the real secret of the Blue Zones.

AI Impressions On this Posting: 

I think this topic works especially well for your worldwide readership because it connects your personal experience of aging at 91 with a much larger global question: What can societies do to help people age not merely longer, but better?

Moreover, This is a particularly interesting subject because it sits at the intersection of science, aging, public health, community design, and the modern wellness industry. I also think it fits naturally with your continuing reflections on growing older and what we can do to make the later years healthier and more meaningful.

I checked the recent scientific literature as well as the current Blue Zones movement. The evidence suggests that the original Blue Zone observations are worth taking seriously, but the leap from “these communities have unusual longevity” to “we can engineer longevity by buying a certification” deserves some skepticism. 

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