For a long time, I believed that anxiety around aging mainly came from struggling to face the idea of what I "should have" already achieved.
Then I realized it’s not the passing of time that truly hurts, but the feeling that certain life stages have closed forever. My heart aches not because I’m older, but because I’ve moved beyond cherished chapters I can’t return to, no matter how much I wish to.
This realization was the spark that started my shift in perspective.
As I explored this topic, the first thing I encountered was Rudolf Steiner’s theory of 7-year cycles. According to Steiner, life isn’t a straight line but a series of developmental gates, each seven-year phase focusing on physical, emotional, and spiritual growth.
It’s not your age that matters, but the inner work you’re going through — and that depends on your stage in life.
That makes perfect sense because the questions we wrestle with in our twenties are very different from those in our seventies.
Later, numerology also resonated with me, working with nine-year cycles. While Steiner highlights self-awareness between 21-28 and spiritual rebirth between 42-49, numerology often points to a deep turning point between 30-45. Psychology Today echoes this, noting life events often follow rhythmic cycles, sometimes around 12 years.
When the Past Is Too Beautiful Not to Feel the Loss
In recent years, my heart often ached for a time I wished I could revisit. After my daughter learned to walk, we were almost always outdoors. We live in a stunning place and made the most of it: we walked nearly all day, exploring the woods with our little dog tagging along. I fully embraced the rural idyll I’d always dreamed of. Weather or season didn’t matter — we just went, equipped with snacks for long days or bundled up in anoraks. My phone is full of photos of them walking ahead in all kinds of landscapes. Even as I clicked the shutter, I knew I never wanted to forget these moments.
Then our dog began aging, suddenly lost his sight, and I felt deeply that those years and moments can’t come back. We lost him last year, leaving a deep wound in my heart. Meanwhile, my daughter reached an age where she’d rather be with friends — or at least, part of her rebellion means she has no interest in forest walks with me. She’s not independent enough yet for me to reconnect with my former self and stroll the world alone or with her dad, reminiscing about the “good old days” whenever I want. I’m stuck in an in-between place.
Measuring Life in Cycles
I wanted to climb out of this valley, so I started consciously thinking in cycles. Not in years or numbers, but in chapters. This helped me see what’s passed not as a loss, but as a closed, uniquely valuable phase. Those joyful forest walks didn’t “end” — they fulfilled their purpose. And where I am now might be a transition, but it’s still part of my life.
Psychological research supports this mindset.
A study by the British Psychological Society found that those who view their lives as a series of chapters automatically boost their self-esteem and gain clearer self-understanding.
Why? Mainly because they see that chronological age can be misleading. When we think in experiences and phases, the past feels richer, not poorer.
The moments when we were truly present don’t age. They don’t fade as years pass because they don’t sit in calendar boxes — they live within us and travel everywhere we go. Time doesn’t diminish; our lives grow deeper: each chapter adds something, even if it ended with pain.
I’m still learning, but this shift in perspective helps me age differently. It helps me accept that some chapters only come once — and that doesn’t make life less, but fuller.
