The Patina of a Well-Lived Life

On July 1, I happened to hear a speech given at the Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library in Medora, North Dakota. During the remarks, Theodore Roosevelt’s extraordinary life was described as “a freakin’ wild life.” Colorful wording aside, it made me stop and listen.

I learned—or perhaps relearned—things about Roosevelt that I had either never been taught or had long forgotten. Frail as a child and plagued by health problems, he was advised by his doctor to live a quiet, cautious life. Roosevelt chose a different path. Rather than protecting himself from every risk, he embraced what he would later call “the strenuous life.”

In Roosevelt’s own words, spoken on April 10, 1899:

“I wish to preach, not the doctrine of ignoble ease, but the doctrine of the strenuous life, the life of toil and effort, of labor and strife; to preach that highest form of success which comes, not to the man who desires mere easy peace, but to the man who does not shrink from danger, from hardship, or from bitter toil, and who out of these wins the splendid ultimate triumph.”

Theodore Roosevelt

Am I suggesting that we, women in the Best-Life demographic, embrace a life of toil and effort, labor and strife? Certainly not! But I am suggesting that we choose fullness over fear—living our lives rather than constantly trying to preserve them.

Trips, not Treatments

My personal mindset shift came a few years ago when I attended an event at the office of my Botox doc. I’ve been receiving Botox injections, fillers and other products designed to make me look better, younger, for 20 years. I was on the stage and on TV. It seemed to be just part of the price of doing business. But then, in my mid-sixties, I began to question whether it was worth the expense. My decision was crystalized at this open house where the newest treatments were showcased. There were fixes for things I’d never heard of or thought about. And they were expensive—to the tune of multiple thousands of dollars per treatment. But they’d allow you to retain the allure of youth. I chuckled to myself as I left the office with a new personal motto: trips not treatments. I decided that I’d rather spend my limited resources on experiences, on living a great life rather than trying to prevent the inevitable. I never went back. That decision had less to do with Botox than with how I wanted to spend the rest of my life.

Since that time, my husband and I have taken three cruises and have signed up for another next year. We’ve traveled on Route 66 from California to Texas in a Mustang convertible. We are currently planning a road trip to the Marfa/Big Bend area of Texas. I’ve taken Caribbean trips—one with my girlfriends and one with my sister and sister-in-law. We are doing another “sister” beach trip this Fall.

Your “trips” may not involve a passport. They may be afternoons with grandchildren, volunteer work, pickleball, painting, mission trips, gardening, or finally learning to play the piano. The point isn’t travel. The point is choosing experiences that leave a beautiful patina.

My new motto doesn’t mean that I’ve thrown skin care into the wind. Yes, I still want to look my best and I wish my elevens weren’t so prominent. I use anti-aging potions and serums. I color my hair. And I do love pretty clothes. These are my choices and I’m not suggesting that they are right for each of you. I am, however, suggesting a reframe of what our best life might look like. When we have a choice, why not lean toward experiences that enrich our lives rather than endless attempts to look as though we haven’t lived it.

A Beautiful Patina

I’ve chosen to look at my face differently. Every line tells a story. I’ve earned them because I didn’t skip the pool party with friends. Because I hiked to the waterfall. Because I sat on the beach watching another sunset. Because I fully engaged in life. I call them the patina of a well-lived life.

Patina isn’t a defect. It’s what happens when something valuable has been exposed to the world instead of hidden away. It develops on things that are well loved, well used, and deeply appreciated. Think of the soft glow on an old bronze sculpture, the mellow finish of a farmhouse table, or the character of leather that’s traveled for years. Patina doesn’t diminish value. It reveals it.

So, how does this connect to my wrinkles? The whole idea of a patina helps me love them and remember the life I’m glad I’ve lived. It doesn’t mean I want more of them, though I know, ultimately, they will increase. It means I’m not afraid of them. I am not going to excessive or expensive means to remove or prevent them. I’d always assumed I’d have a facelift when the time came. My sister and I even talked about getting one at the same time. But no more. This is who I am.

To my friends who have had work done, I am not meaning to cast shade on your decision. Whatever choices you’ve made, time will continue its quiet work. I hope you’ll never regret the laugh lines that come from a life well lived. Instead, live the life that gives you more.

Rather than trying to look untouched by time, I want to look like someone who wasn’t afraid to live. I don’t want to erase the signs of a well-lived life.

What constitutes a well-lived life will be different for each of us. As I’ve already indicated, for me it includes travel with my husband and trips with my girlfriends. It means pool parties and birthday bashes. It means good food and fine wine.

For you, it may be dancing at your daughter’s wedding or playing with your grandchildren at the park. It might be going on a hike or spending time in the garden; long lunches and laughter. Or maybe a mission trip to build a church in Mexico or Africa.

I’ve been wanting to write this for more than a year. The ideas have been percolating. They have helped me live more intentionally. When I heard about Roosvelt’s life, it gave me the prompt I needed.

For you, I hope these ideas will help you make choices that lead toward the kind of life you’ll be glad you lived. Because someday the beach trips will end. The pool parties will end. The girls’ weekends, the long lunches, the laughter that makes us wipe tears from our eyes—all of it is temporary.

But if we’re fortunate, our faces will remember.

Every smile.
Every squint into a glorious sunset.
Every afternoon in the pool.
Every child carried on our hips.
Every friend who made us laugh until we couldn’t breathe.

That’s the patina of a well-lived life.

I don’t want to erase the wrinkles. I want to look at them as proof that I wasn’t afraid to live.

Rather than looking at aging as what time takes away, measure it by what living has given you. And that, my friends, is the splendid ultimate triumph.

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New to The Best-Life Project?

Please read these foundational posts:

Best Life Dream Story

Best-Life Definition

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Marita Littauer Tedder

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Marita Littauer Tedder is founder of The Best-Life Project, where she encourages women to embrace the sweet spot where health, time, and resources intersect. A former professional speaker and author of 20 books, she believes some of life’s richest years begin after sixty. Through stories of friendship, reinvention, travel, and everyday courage, she invites readers to become the very best version of themselves. Marita and her husband, Chuck, live in Lubbock, Texas.