Today, I am 70 years old.
It is one of those ages that sounds significant when you say it aloud. Seventy. A number that once appeared to belong to somebody much older than me has somehow arrived with my name attached to it.
I could spend the day counting the years, measuring what has gone or worrying about the time ahead. But that is not how I want to mark it. I would rather pause, look back with honesty and look forward with curiosity.
This is not the end of the road. It is the start of a new chapter.
The road that brought me here
Seventy years contain more than can be fitted into one article. They include family, work, responsibility, achievement, mistakes, difficult periods, laughter and thousands of ordinary days that did not appear important at the time but together made a life.
I studied hard to become a master butcher, acquiring the practical and technical skills the trade required and winning prizes in national competitions. I also studied anatomy and physiology and gained a degree in animal pathology. At one stage I intended to study veterinary science, but life took me into industry instead.
My working life eventually led into management and operations. It taught me about people, pressure, responsibility and the difference between having authority and earning respect. Like most people, I did not travel in a perfectly straight line. Plans changed, opportunities appeared and sometimes I simply had to deal with what was in front of me.
I have made mistakes, as everybody does. But I would not spend my seventieth birthday wishing for a different life. The difficult moments taught me as much as the successes, and the whole journey brought me to the people and experiences I value today.
Retirement is freedom—but freedom needs purpose
Retirement is sometimes described as one long holiday. At first, the freedom from alarm clocks, meetings and somebody else's timetable can feel wonderful. Then comes a more important question: what will you do with that freedom?
I have learned that a satisfying retirement does not simply happen because work has stopped. It needs shape, interest and purpose. For me that comes from writing, the allotment, walking, camping, photography, learning new things and spending time with family.
It comes from preparing a polytunnel for the growing season, making a brew outdoors, taking a photograph that catches the feeling of a place, or sitting quietly beside a lake while the grandchildren are out on the water. None of these things has to impress anybody. They matter because they make life feel lived.
What matters looks different at 70
When we are younger, it is easy to believe that progress means constantly acquiring more: more status, more possessions, more approval and more reasons to be busy. Age has a way of stripping some of that away.
Good health matters. So do family, friendship, time, independence and the ability to remain interested in the world. A good conversation can be more valuable than an expensive purchase. A walk with a view can stay in the memory longer than something bought and forgotten.
I value fairness, honesty and people who do what they say they will do. I value being able to help when I can, and leaving things a little better than I found them. I value the ordinary pleasures: a proper brew, food shared with others, clear skies, a book worth reading and the peace that arrives when there is nowhere else I need to be.
Still curious. Still learning.
One of the greatest surprises of reaching 70 is discovering that curiosity does not have to retire with you.
Around 60 years ago, I watched Thunderbirds and marvelled at people talking through telephones with television screens. Not long ago, I used a phone small enough for my pocket to see and hear a friend in Mexico—and to see the beach and sea behind him.
Years ago I built websites using Microsoft FrontPage. I became quite good at it, but every page took time and patience. Now, at 70, I am working with artificial intelligence to build this website, develop my writing and share photographs and stories from my life.
I have published a book about AI, made videos for TikTok and learned to use technology that did not exist for most of my life. I am not standing at the edge watching history pass. I am still taking part in it.
Growing older may change what I can do, but it does not decide what I am allowed to be interested in.
The chapter ahead
I am realistic. At 70, the body occasionally reminds the mind that they are no longer 30. Knowing my limits is part of continuing to enjoy the things I love. It is not surrender; it is good sense.
I still want more walks, more camping trips, more time outdoors, more photographs and more memories with my family. I want more books, more good conversations and more moments of peace. I want to keep writing, questioning, learning and finding out what is around the next bend.
Turning 70 does not mean pretending that time is unlimited. In fact, it makes time more valuable. It encourages me to spend less of it on what does not matter and more of it on what does.
My philosophy for the years ahead is simple: live simply, think deeply, be kind, stay curious, make memories, help when I can and leave things better than I found them.
So here is to good health, clear skies, strong legs, good friends and many more adventures. I am retired. I am grateful. I am still curious, still exploring and still living.
Live the life you have.