One of the greatest rewards of being a personal strength coach is watching a client achieve what strength training is truly about – persistence, patience, and belief in yourself.

When Nancy first came to me, she was 50 years old and just beginning her recovery after bariatric surgery. Her journey hadn’t been easy. In her 20s, she’d undergone spinal surgery and later developed a spinal infection that left her with limited back mobility. Exercise wasn’t something she enjoyed – in fact, her idea of a perfect day involved curling up with a great book or watching her favorite show with a cup of coffee in hand.

But after her surgery, Nancy was determined to make a lasting change. She wanted to keep the weight off, gain lean muscle, and take control of her health. She’d read about me in a local newspaper article that mentioned my work with women and my Master’s degree in Exercise Physiology – and she decided to take the leap.

Starting Small and Staying Consistent

From our very first session, Nancy’s determination was clear. We began training twice a week, focusing first on consistency and safety – not intensity. Those early weeks laid the foundation for everything that followed.

Before we lifted a single weight, I assessed her movement patterns, posture, and confidence level. Nancy admitted she was nervous – she’d never done formal strength training before – but as a former Jazzercise student, I knew she had coordination and could learn quickly.

We began with bodyweight-only exercises, each one connected to an everyday movement she already knew:

• Sitting down and standing up became the foundation for the squat, building strength in her legs and hips.
• Reaching overhead for a glass became the base for the overhead press, strengthening her shoulders and upper body.
• Bending to pick up a box became the foundation for the hinge or deadlift, strengthening her back and glutes.

Please watch the short video for a quick overview.

By connecting functional movements to real-life actions, Nancy began to understand how her body moved – and how capable she really was.

After just a month, her confidence began to bloom. She no longer needed as many verbal cues to guide her movements, and she started noticing steady improvement – exercises that once felt awkward were beginning to feel almost effortless.

Once her body started to adapt after a few months, we began increasing repetitions and slowly adding light weights. Her progress was steady and smart – no rushing, no injuries, just consistent, thoughtful work.

Within a year, she was lifting heavier weights, moving better than ever, and building lean, visible muscle – all without pain or setbacks.

Even after I moved to another state, Nancy stayed committed. Today, we train together 100% online, and her progress continues to amaze me.

The Transformation

Nancy’s transformation goes far beyond muscle tone. She’s stronger not just physically, but mentally. She doesn’t like to miss a session, and she moves with confidence, grace, and energy.

What began with just two dumbbells, a mat, and a water bottle has evolved into full-body workouts using resistance bands, balance boards, and stability balls. But the real change? Her mindset.

Exercise is no longer a chore – it’s part of her life. It’s her self-care, her stress relief, her joy.

Nancy’s story is a powerful reminder that it’s never too late to start – and that you don’t need fancy equipment or perfect circumstances to begin. You just need to take the first small step and keep showing up.

Ready to Begin Your Own Journey?

If Nancy’s story inspires you to start your own strength training journey, I’d love to help. Please visit my website and contact me HERE for information on more personalized programs designed for women who want to move better, feel stronger, and live with confidence – at every age.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

What do you detest about exercise? Is there something that scares you and pushes you away from an exercise routine?

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Dear Me,

I’ve been thinking about you – the younger version, the braver version, the version who didn’t yet know how easily fear disguises itself as practicality.

I want to start with this: you were not lazy, unmotivated, or lacking ambition. You were cautious. And when you are young, caution can quietly reroute an entire life.

You Should Have Gone to Medical School

Not because it would have been easy, but because you wanted it. You talked yourself out of it by telling yourself the schooling would take too long. Ten years felt like forever back then. When you’re young, everything feels permanent – four years, eight years, a decade. You couldn’t yet see how quickly time collapses once you’re standing on the other side of it, wondering where it went.

You Should Have Told Him You Loved Him

Or at least that you valued him. That he mattered. That you wanted to be with him. You assumed he already knew, or that saying it would make you vulnerable in a way you weren’t ready to be. Silence felt safer than rejection. But silence has consequences too, and they echo much longer than honest words ever would.

You Should Have Told the Other One to Get Lost from the Very Beginning

The moment you saw who he really was, you knew. You felt it in your gut long before you had language for it. You stayed anyway – longer than you should have – hoping clarity would come, hoping he would change, hoping effort could turn into commitment. But he was incapable of real love, at least in the way you needed it, and no amount of patience could teach him what he didn’t have. You weren’t wrong for wanting more. You were wrong only in ignoring yourself.

You Confused Passion with Destiny

You loved writing, so you thought that meant you should pursue it as a career. No one told you that loving something doesn’t obligate you to monetize it. No one warned you that corporate America and public relations would strip the joy from writing until it became transactional, strategic, and hollow. Eventually, you couldn’t write at all – not for pleasure, not for yourself. Something sacred was exhausted by obligation.

You Followed Another Dream Instead

You became a funeral director because you believed in meaning, service, and showing up for people at their most vulnerable time. That part was real. But you apprenticed under a corporate funeral home instead of a small, family-run one, and the experience broke something in you.

You weren’t respected. You were treated as disposable. You were hurt – physically and emotionally – on the job. A calling turned into a lesson about power, profit, and how institutions can crush the very compassion they claim to uphold.

And You Should Have Appreciated Your Mother More

Not in the abstract way we all do when we’re busy surviving our own lives, but actively. Deliberately. She was an amazing woman, and you didn’t always slow down enough to see her fully while she was here. You assumed time would always allow for later.

But Here Is What Surprised You

You are incredibly strong. Not the kind of strength that hardens or intimidates, but the kind that sustains. The kind that keeps going. The kind that learns, bends, and stays open even after disappointment.

You have a deep intolerance for injustice. It still makes you crazy when people do real harm and walk away untouched, when double standards thrive, when the playing field is anything but even. You believe – deeply – that as humans, we should all be held to the same measure of accountability and dignity.

And Yet, You Are No Longer as Judgmental as You Once Were

You’ve lived enough. You’ve seen enough. You’ve made your own mistakes. Who are you to judge, really? Experience softened you in a way youth never could.

You’ve also come to understand that some people simply cannot do what you can do. Not because they are deficient or weak, but because they are wired differently. Some people can only carry so much.

You remember a story from your youth – a cousin’s wife who left him and their children. It was taboo then. Maybe it still is. Your mother once asked, “How can a mother do that?” And now you understand something you couldn’t then: some people don’t leave because they don’t care; they leave because they are at capacity. It’s like asking someone with a broken leg to run. They can’t – not because they don’t want to, but because they simply cannot.

You Also See Relationships Differently Now

You know that no marriage or partnership is perfect, no matter how curated the Facebook posts look. So many people struggle quietly. Many stay not because they are happy, but because they feel they have no recourse, no support, no permission to choose differently.

And You Finally Understand Your Father

You recognize now that those moments – him sitting quietly in his easy chair, lights off, withdrawn – were not indifference or distance. They were depression. You know this because you faced depression and anxiety yourself – and unlike his generation, you sought the help you needed.

You learned that strength isn’t endurance at all costs; it’s knowing when to reach out. His generation didn’t talk about these things. They didn’t ask for help. They endured in silence, mistaking survival for resilience.

You Also Learned How to Draw Boundaries

You cut ties with family members who were toxic long before it became acceptable – or fashionable – to do so. You didn’t do it to be cruel. You did it because they took more than they gave. You learned to draw a line in the sand, and you still do today when people go too far. The younger you would have offered endless chances, explaining away behavior that drained you. This version of you knows that compassion does not require self-betrayal.

Here Is What You Also Know Now

You stepped away from the corporate nightmare, and in doing so, you became an amazing writer. Writing returned when it was no longer demanded – when it was allowed to be truthful instead of profitable.

You are still in the funeral industry – not as a licensed funeral director, but as someone who helps those who need it most. Titles mattered less than presence. You still serve. You still show up.

You have extraordinary friends, and you finally understand that friends are the family we choose.

You became a life coach. Maybe you should have been a therapist – but you help people. And they help you, too. Through them, you’ve learned that you are not alone in your struggles. None of us are. Everyone is carrying something.

And You Learned to Love the Small Things

A roof over your head.

Meals with friends and family.

The moon.

Cotton-candy clouds.

Birds and animals – especially the uncomplicated joy they bring to their days, doing exactly what they were meant to do.

If you’re reading this as part of the Sixty and Me community, I want to invite you to write your own letter.

Write to the version of yourself who didn’t yet know what you know now. Begin however you like – Dear me is enough. There are no rules and no audience unless you choose one.

Write about the dream you talked yourself out of.

The moment you wish you had spoken up.

Something you misunderstood about yourself or someone else.

What surprised you about who you became.

What you know now that you didn’t then.

You don’t have to fix anything. You don’t have to forgive everything.

Just tell the truth – gently.

You don’t have to share it. Let it be just for you.

Because sometimes the most healing thing we can do – especially at this stage of life – is tell ourselves the truth fully, without interruption, and finally bear witness to our own story.

And sometimes, that is enough.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Have you written a letter to your younger self? What wisdom have you gained that you could never understand back then?

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Originally posted at: Salley Carson’s White and Pink Floral Skirt Set

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One of the most powerful tools for visualizing your dream life is a Visualization Sanctuary. Unfortunately, it is also one of the most neglected and overlooked areas for creating your dream lifestyle after 60.

• What exactly is a Visualization Sanctuary?
• Why do you need one?
• Where and how would you create one for yourself?

We will answer these questions in this third article and video of my new, 12-part exclusive series for Sixty and Me readers titled “Visualize a Vibrant New Lifestyle After 60.”

But first, I want to share a personal story with you that happened last year.

A Museum of Disappointment

Last summer I was having dinner at a friend’s home, and she asked me how I visualized a new lifestyle for myself in my 70s, after my beloved husband Joe died.

She confided in me that whenever she tried to visualize a goal or even schedule her week in advance, she got distracted by thoughts and experiences of her past.

Sometimes the thoughts were so overwhelming she would try to distract herself by scrolling on Facebook, turning on the television, or tending to her never-ending to-do list.

I asked her if she had a special place in her home where she journals or reflects on her dreams and goals. She took me into her bedroom and showed me a small desk she uses to write in her journal and get on the computer.

The moment I entered the bedroom, I immediately understood why she couldn’t visualize her future. Every surface of her dresser, nightstand, and even her desk was covered with reminders of what once was:

• Photographs of family and friends, most of whom had died.
• Self-help books stacked on top of one another (I call these “shelf-help”).
• Paperwork and unopened mail from obligations she told me she resented.

My friend shared with me that she gets depressed even opening her closet, as it is full of her once-favorite clothes that are now too tight to wear comfortably.

I asked if I could speak to her bluntly, and she nodded.

“Your sanctuary has become a museum of disappointment.”

It struck a nerve, and her eyes began to well up with tears.

“Where in your home,” I asked her gently, “is there room to create a Visualization Sanctuary?”

She quizzically looked at me and asked, “What is that?”

I replied, “It’s a dedicated space for who you’re becoming. Do you know where you would create a Visualization Sanctuary for yourself?”

She had no answer.

Do you?

What Is a Visualization Sanctuary?

A Visualization Sanctuary is a dedicated space – either physical or digital – designed to nurture your imagination, enhance your focus, and amplify the power of your visualization practices.

It can be any space that helps you feel safe, inspired, and connected to the lifestyle of your dreams.

In the complimentary video to this article, I share several examples of a Visualization Sanctuary. For now, I want to introduce you to the benefits of creating one for yourself.

Benefits of Having a Visualization Sanctuary

As children, we instinctively created one Visualization Sanctuary after the other.

These ranged from secret hideouts to cozy reading nooks and even a fort made from blankets and pillows. These sacred spaces allowed us to enter a world of imagination, free from distractions and limitations.

As adults, we often lose touch with this fun and immersive practice unless we are connecting with our children or grandchildren.

Creating a Visualization Sanctuary helps you reignite your childhood ability to dream freely. It also fosters a safe and inspiring environment where your dreams and deepest desires can take root and flourish.

Here are some additional benefits:

• Encourages a safe space for reinvigorating your lifestyle.
• Removes daily distractions & helps you focus on your dreams.
• Activates the power of your subconscious mind.
• Enhances the emotional connection to your innermost desires.
• Promotes consistency & habit formation.

5-Step Action Plan to Create Your Visual Sanctuary

A Visualization Sanctuary is more than just a space. It’s a portal to the lifestyle you’re creating. Here is a five-part inspired action item for creating a Visualization Sanctuary:

Step 1: Choose Your Sacred Sanctuary

Identify a physical location where you can relax without distractions. It could be a quiet room, a meditation space, a special chair, or a cozy outdoor setting.

If space is limited or your current living environment is not conducive to a Visualization Sanctuary, create a portable sanctuary. This could include a journal, headphones, and even scented candles that can enhance your visualization experience.

Step 2: Fill Your Space with Inspiration

Begin with visual cues, such as printing images that reflect your dream life (travel destinations, dream home, personal goals).

Establish your own soundscape with specific types of music, nature sounds, and guided meditations. You can also use scents that can trigger deep emotional engagement.

Step 3: Personalize Your Space with Sensory Anchors

Use textures that match your dream lifestyle and deliver a sense of peace and relaxation. For example, a silk scarf if you envision luxury, a soft blanket if comfort is key, or a comfortable pillow.

Step 4: Create a Digital Sanctuary

This can be created using a Pinterest board with inspirational images, Spotify and/or YouTube playlist with empowering music and visuals that match your ideal lifestyle, and a digital vision board on apps like Canva, PowerPoint, or MindMovies.

Step 5: Commit to Visiting Your Space Daily

Spend 5-10 minutes daily in your Visualization Sanctuary, engaging in deep imaginative immersion. Close your eyes and fully step into your dream lifestyle, experiencing it with all five senses.

Next Steps

Next up in this series, you will learn how to “Time Travel to Your Dream Lifestyle.”

I invite you to join me in the video, where I will share “7 Steps for Creating a Sensory Experience in the Physical World” through journaling.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Are you trying to imagine a new life by living with one foot in the old one? What would you like to change? What new developments would you like to see in your life?

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Cash feels safe.

After decades of saving and investing, retirement brings a natural shift. Many people find themselves wanting more stability, fewer surprises, less volatility. And cash – sitting quietly in a bank or money market account – delivers that feeling immediately.

No market swings.

No headlines to react to.

No uncertainty.

But while cash brings comfort, it can also come with a hidden cost.

The question isn’t whether you should hold cash in retirement. You absolutely should.

The real question is: how much?

Why Cash Feels So Reassuring

In your working years, your paycheck acted as a buffer. If markets dropped, income kept coming. If an expense popped up, there was another paycheck around the corner.

In retirement, that buffer changes. Without employment income, people often want a larger safety net.

Holding one to three years of living expenses in cash is a common starting point. If annual spending is $80,000, that might mean keeping $80,000 to $240,000 readily accessible.

That cushion can be powerful. It allows you to pay bills without worrying about selling investments during a downturn. It helps you sleep at night.

And sleep matters.

When Comfort Turns into Excess

Where things become less clear is when cash balances quietly grow beyond what’s necessary.

It’s not unusual to meet retirees who are holding $500,000, $1 million, or more in cash because it “feels safer.” Especially after periods of market volatility.

But here’s the trade-off.

If inflation averages 3% per year, $500,000 sitting in low-yield cash loses roughly $15,000 of purchasing power in the first year alone. Over 10 years, that erosion compounds significantly.

Meanwhile, retirement may last 25 or 30 years.

Cash protects against short-term volatility. It does not protect against long-term inflation.

That distinction matters.

For many people, deciding how to structure income and cash flows – and how long your money needs to last – benefits from a broader retirement strategy.

The Opportunity Cost No One Talks About

For retirees with significant portfolios, the bigger risk often isn’t market swings. The bigger risk is falling too far behind inflation over decades.

If someone has $3 million invested and moves $1 million into cash earning modest returns, that decision may reduce overall portfolio growth in a meaningful way over time.

The goal in retirement isn’t aggressive growth. It’s sustainable support.

Many balanced retirement portfolios continue to include meaningful exposure to equities, even after 65, depending on income needs and comfort with risk.

Cash is a stabilizer.

It isn’t a growth engine.

And in a long retirement, growth still plays a role.

A More Balanced Way to Think About Cash

Rather than asking, “Is this safe?” it can be helpful to ask:

• How many years of expenses do I truly need in stable assets?
• What purpose does this cash serve?
• Is this amount based on a plan – or on anxiety?

For many retirees, one to three years of expenses in cash or conservative investments creates enough stability to avoid selling during downturns.

Beyond that, the conversation becomes more nuanced.

Because while cash feels calm, too much of it can quietly reduce flexibility later.

The Emotional Side of Holding Cash

It’s important to acknowledge something here.

Cash decisions are rarely purely mathematical.

They’re emotional.

After decades of building wealth, protecting it can feel more important than growing it. Especially if you’ve already reached a level where you feel “comfortable.”

There’s nothing wrong with that instinct.

But retirement isn’t just about protecting principal. It’s about preserving lifestyle – and lifestyle requires purchasing power.

The balance between safety and growth is rarely fixed. It evolves as health, spending, and markets change.

There Is No Universal Number

There isn’t one correct percentage of cash for everyone.

Someone relying heavily on portfolio withdrawals may structure cash differently than someone with a large pension and Social Security covering most expenses.

What matters most is alignment.

Cash should support your plan, not replace it.

A Few Questions to Consider

• How much cash are you currently holding – and why?
• Does that amount reflect a clear strategy, or simply a desire to feel safe?
• Would adjusting it slightly increase your confidence – or your long-term flexibility?

Retirement decisions are rarely black and white. But understanding the trade-offs can make them feel steadier.

And steadiness, more than anything, is what most retirees are looking for.

Let’s Talk About It:

Cash can feel like security, but sometimes it’s also a way of managing worry.

Have you increased your cash holdings since retiring – or as retirement approaches? Do you feel calmer seeing a larger number in your bank account, even if you know it may cost you growth over time? If you’re already retired, how many years of expenses do you keep in stable assets? And if you’re comfortable sharing – has that amount changed since you stopped working?

Retirement decisions are rarely purely mathematical. They’re personal.

I’d love to hear how you’re thinking about this balance between comfort and cost.

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Now let’s carry on, dear reader, stay near,
For Part Two holds truths some avoid out of fear.
Because after the money, the wires, the pleas,
Come silence… then questions… then nights without ease.

You wait for a message. Refresh. Then retry.
You tell yourself stories. You reason out why.
“He’s busy,” you whisper. “There’s trouble abroad.”
You pray he’s okay. You appeal to the odds.

But days turn to weeks and the tone starts to thin,
His answers grow smaller, your footing less firm.
And then – like a curtain pulled swiftly aside –
Fake Mike disappears. No goodbye. No reply.

The shock isn’t money – it’s deeper than that.
It’s the loss of a person you thought that you had.
The good mornings vanish. The listening ear.
The sense that someone in the world held you dear.

And here comes the poison that hurts the most:
That quiet self-blame that creeps in like a ghost.
“How could I fall for this?”
“How could I miss
The signs that were waving? The cracks? The abyss?”

But listen up now – this part matters most:
These scams are designed to deceive, not by force,
But by patience and charm and emotional art,
By studying grief and the lonely heart.

They don’t hunt the foolish. They don’t seek the weak.
They target the kind and the open and deep.
The ones who can listen. The ones who still care.
The ones who believe love might still be there.

So if you’ve been taken – by words, not just cash –
You are not broken. You are not rash.
You were human. You hoped. You reached through the dark.
That impulse itself is a beautiful spark.

Now here is the wisdom to carry ahead:
Real love shows up – it’s not typed from a bed
Across distant oceans with reasons it can’t
Meet you for coffee, or lunch, or a rant.

Real love doesn’t borrow or pressure or plead,
Doesn’t test your devotion by financial need.
It doesn’t grow urgent, evasive, or thin –
And it never requires you to prove love to win.

So if something feels off, slow down – take a breath.
Share it with others. Bring it to light.
Scams thrive in silence; they shrink when exposed.
Truth grows stronger the more it’s disclosed.

And if Fake Mike crossed paths with your heart for a while,
Let this be the ending – not bitter, but wise.
You keep your compassion. You keep your deep core.
Just guard your heart – and your bank – evermore.

Read part one here: Poem: Fake Mike, Part 1 — Breaking Hearts and Into Bank Accounts.

Let’s Discuss:

How deep have you fallen for someone who turned out to be a scammer? What red flags are you watching for?

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