What Endings Means As Used Here


Sometime after the old story begins to loosen, whether it’s about retiring, family changes, or physical changes, . . . things that once worked start to fail quietly.

Not all at once.

Not catastrophically.

Just enough to be noticed.

Then ignored.

Then noticed again.

Roles that had carried weight for decades grow lighter, then awkward, then hollow.

Certainties thin.

Effort produces less return.

The familiar moves stop landing the way they used to.

At first, this feels like a problem to solve.

Most of us were trained that way.

If something stops working, we adjust.

If a role loses power, we reinforce it.

If meaning fades, we double down on purpose.

But, this time, doubling down does not help.

What is happening does not respond to improvement.

It does not want optimization.

It does not want encouragement.
It wants something to end.

That realization comes slowly, and then all at once.

Looking back, it becomes clear there were several such endings . . . more than a few.

Enough changes in enough areas of life to change the ground we thought was solid.

Each one arrives disguised as inconvenience or failure or fatigue.

Each one asks to be managed . . . and each one resists management.

A capacity relied on for years slips away.

A way of being respected no longer applies.

A sense of usefulness evaporates without explanation.

These moments aren’t clearly losses at the time . . . . so they get treated as problems . . . and that makes things worse.

Only in hindsight does it become clear that something more fundamental has been happening.

Not change in the ordinary sense . . . not transition . . . not reinvention.

It is something closer to death . . . not physical death . . .

Not emotional collapse.

Identity death . . . the passing away of things that we always took for granted . . . that we thought were us.

Leaving us with an obvious, but very difficult question: If these things that we thought defined us aren’t true anymore, then who the heck are we now?
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As men navigating the complexities of life after 60, we’ve likely experienced the ebb and flow of long-term relationships. The initial spark can sometimes dim under the weight of routine, familiarity, and the various challenges life throws our way. This is precisely the territory that renowned couples therapist Esther Perel expertly navigates in her insightful and often provocative book, “Mating in Captivity: Unlocking Erotic Intelligence.” While not explicitly aimed at our demographic, its wisdom offers invaluable perspectives for reigniting passion and deepening intimacy in enduring partnerships.

Perel’s central thesis is compelling: the very elements that foster security and stability in long-term relationships – closeness, predictability, and shared routines – can paradoxically stifle erotic desire, which thrives on distance, novelty, and the unknown. She argues that “love wants to know all about you; desire needs mystery.” This isn’t about advocating for secrecy or infidelity, but rather about cultivating a sense of separateness and maintaining individual passions within the committed relationship.

For men in their 60s, this can resonate deeply. We may have decades of shared history, comfortable routines, and a deep sense of companionship. Yet, the very familiarity that provides comfort can also lead to a feeling of predictability in the bedroom. Perel challenges us to consider how we might introduce elements of surprise, playfulness, and even a touch of healthy “otherness” back into our intimate lives.

One of the book’s strengths lies in Perel’s use of compelling case studies drawn from her years of practice. These real-life examples illustrate the diverse ways in which couples grapple with the tension between domesticity and desire, and the innovative strategies they employ to bridge the gap. These stories offer relatable scenarios and practical insights that can spark reflection on our own relationships.

Marriage solutions

Perel delves into various aspects that impact eroticism in long-term partnerships, including:

  • The myth of the perfect merger: She debunks the idea that true intimacy requires complete merging of two individuals, highlighting the importance of maintaining individual identities and interests. For men who may have spent years building a shared life, this offers a refreshing perspective on the value of personal autonomy.

  • The power of the erotic imagination: Perel emphasizes the role of fantasy, playfulness, and conscious effort in cultivating desire. This isn’t about grand gestures, but rather about small, intentional acts that inject novelty and excitement.

  • The delicate balance of connection and distance: She explores how creating moments of “absence” – both physical and emotional – can actually heighten desire upon reunion. This can be particularly relevant for couples who have become accustomed to constant togetherness.

  • Navigating the challenges of aging and changing bodies: While not the primary focus, the book implicitly encourages open communication and creative adaptation as our physical selves evolve, ensuring intimacy remains a vital part of the relationship.

While some of Perel’s examples might feel more geared towards a younger audience, the underlying principles are timeless and applicable to couples at any stage of life. The core message – that maintaining passion requires conscious effort, open communication, and a willingness to embrace both closeness and separateness – is particularly relevant for men in their 60s who are looking to revitalize their long-term partnerships.

In conclusion, “Mating in Captivity” offers a thought-provoking and ultimately hopeful perspective on sustaining eroticism in long-term relationships. It challenges conventional wisdom and encourages a nuanced understanding of the complex interplay between love and desire. For the men of men60plus.com, this book can serve as a valuable tool for introspection, sparking important conversations with our partners, and ultimately, for rekindling the flame of passion in our enduring love stories. It’s a reminder that intimacy, in all its forms, can continue to evolve and flourish, adding richness and vitality to this significant chapter of our lives.

What We Mean by Endings
Every man reaches a point where the old story no longer fits. Careers close. Roles shift. Friendships thin out. The things that once defined us don’t hold the same weight. These endings aren’t failures — they’re signals that something new is asking for space.What We Mean by Endings
Every man reaches a point where the old story no longer fits. Careers close. Roles shift. Friendships thin out. The things that once defined us don’t hold the same weight. These endings aren’t failures — they’re signals that something new is asking for space.

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