Turning 60 made me lean into my own method..

Not by creating a plan for who I thought I should become at 60.
But by asking myself a much simpler question:
What do I want to experience?
And who do I want to experience it with?

My intention was to celebrate this milestone with the people I love most, doing the things I enjoy most.
Travelling with purpose.

The balloon my daughter bought me made the number very concrete.
60.
A reminder of this milestone.
Until my husband, in his wisdom, literally flipped it on its head.
“It’s only 09 upside down Jan,” he said.
Suddenly, there was a lightness to it.
I could see through the number.
A shift in perspective had.
I smiled.

Our destination Málaga, Spain.
One particular desire in mind: to walk the Caminito del Rey through the dramatic gorge of Andalucía.
We stayed in the village of Ardales and set off the following morning.
As we traversed mountain tracks, wooden walkways and high suspension bridges above the gorge, something else happened.
I started remembering something about myself.
I don’t simply want to *visit* a place.
I want to understand it.
To connect the outer experience with something happening within me.
The eagles circling overhead prompted thoughts of Mount Rushmore.
The landscape became a catalyst for curiosity, memory and reflection.

And there it was again.
My Golden Thread.

Nature and movement as my guide.
Psychological learning as my elevation.
Travel as my expansion.
Family as my love and human connection.

We completed the walk, a sense of achievement coming from doing something together. We sat in a local restaurant, eating, talking and laughing as the warm evening settled around us.

The following day we drove to the Castillo de Colomares – a remarkable tribute to Christopher Columbus, its intricate masonry almost resembling stone filigree.
I’d fulfilled another desire.
Yet I wasn’t expecting to feel emotional.
Inside were replica documents from the era of exploration, including a map representing the first European understanding of America.

Standing there, I found myself imagining what that age of discovery must have felt like.
Curiosity. Possibility. The unknown.

It filled my heart with happiness.

And then, that evening, we sailed.
Sitting together on the net of a catamaran, glass of Cava in hand, watching the sun descend across choppy Mediterranean water.

Nothing complicated.
Just simple and divine.

And I realised that this was perhaps the greatest expression of my method yet.

Not something I teach.
Something I live.

Nature.
Movement.
Travel.
Family.
Sea.
Curiosity.
Connection.

The threads of our little clan woven a little tighter.

And perhaps that’s what turning 60 has given me: Not a number to live up to.

But a deeper understanding of ‘what makes life feel like mine.’

A calmer mind.
A stronger body.
A clearer sense of self.
And the freedom to design a life around what matters.
This is my Golden Thread.