I was sitting at the farmers’ market last Saturday, watching an older woman carefully select heirloom tomatoes while chatting warmly with the vendor about his grandkids.
She wasn’t buying the fanciest produce or pulling out a thick wallet, but there was something about her—a contentment, a richness in how she moved through the world—that struck me as truly wealthy.
It got me thinking about what wealth really means, especially as we age. We’re so conditioned to measure success by bank accounts and retirement portfolios, but what if true wealth looks completely different?
After years of choosing a slower, more intentional life—one where Matt and I prioritize connection over consumption and experiences over excess—I’ve come to see wealth through a different lens.
And honestly? The questions that determine real wealth at 60 have almost nothing to do with your net worth.
1) Do you have people who genuinely care about you?
This one’s at the top for a reason.
I think about the elderly neighbors in our community who light up when they see familiar faces at the garden co-op or the library story time. They’ve invested decades in relationships, and now those connections are paying dividends that no financial planner could ever calculate.
Real wealth at 60 means having people who check on you, who remember your stories, who call just because. It’s having friendships that have weathered decades of ups and downs, and family members—whether biological or chosen—who show up when it matters.
Matt’s grandfather used to say that you could count your real friends on one hand if you were lucky. At the time, I thought that sounded depressing. Now I realize he meant the kind of friends who’d drive through a snowstorm to bring you soup, who remember the anniversary of your losses, who know your favorite tea without asking.
That’s wealth. The kind you can’t deposit in a bank but that enriches every single day.
2) Can you pursue interests that bring you joy?
I met a woman at one of my community center art classes who’s in her early sixties. She told me she’d always wanted to paint but spent forty years working a job she tolerated to pay the bills. Now, with her kids grown and retirement looming, she’s finally picking up a brush.
The joy on her face when she finishes a piece? That’s what I’m talking about.
Being able to answer yes to this question at 60 means you’ve either found time throughout your life to nurture your passions, or you’ve structured your later years so you can finally explore them. Maybe it’s woodworking, maybe it’s volunteering at the animal shelter, maybe it’s learning to play the banjo.
It’s not about being good at something or making money from it. It’s about having the freedom—in time, health, and mindset—to pursue what makes your soul sing.
When I watch my kids explore their interests now—Ellie’s fascination with every bug and leaf, Milo’s determination to build ever-taller block towers—I’m reminded that this curiosity and joy shouldn’t end in childhood. We should be cultivating it for a lifetime.
3) Do you feel comfortable in your own skin?
Here’s something I’ve noticed: truly wealthy older people don’t apologize for who they are.
They’ve stopped trying to fit into boxes that never fit quite right anyway. They wear what’s comfortable, speak their minds with kindness, and have made peace with their reflection—wrinkles, gray hair, and all.
I’m working on this one myself. As someone who grew up in a home where appearances mattered more than authenticity, I’m learning (slowly) to let go of the need to present a perfect image. Some days I answer the door with flour in my hair and paint on my shirt, and I’m getting better at being okay with that.
By 60, this kind of self-acceptance becomes a superpower. It means you’re not wasting precious energy on pretending or people-pleasing. You’re just… yourself. And that’s enough.
As Brené Brown reminds us, “Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are.”
4) Have you maintained your physical and mental health?
I’ll be honest—this one keeps me up some nights.
When I dealt with postpartum anxiety after Milo was born, I realized that mental health isn’t something you can take for granted. It requires attention, care, and sometimes professional help. The same goes for physical health.
Wealthy people at 60 aren’t necessarily running marathons or boasting perfect blood pressure. But they’ve prioritized their wellbeing throughout their lives. They’ve moved their bodies regularly, nourished themselves with real food, sought help when they needed it, and maintained preventive care.
I think about this when I’m exhausted and tempted to skip our evening walk, or when I’m anxious and consider pushing through instead of reaching out to my therapist. These small choices compound over decades.
The goal isn’t perfection. It’s stewardship. Taking care of this one body and mind we’ve been given so that at 60, we can still garden, play with grandkids, travel to the places we’ve dreamed about, and fully participate in life.
5) Can you find contentment in simple pleasures?
There’s a reason I’m drawn to that woman at the farmers’ market I mentioned earlier.
She wasn’t looking for exotic superfoods or complaining about prices. She was savoring the experience—the sun on her face, the conversation, the anticipation of a fresh tomato sandwich for lunch. She’d cultivated the ability to find wealth in ordinary moments.
This is something I try to model for Ellie and Milo every day. We take walks where we’re not going anywhere in particular. We make art from leaves and sticks we find in the yard. We sit together watching thunderstorms roll in, just being present.
If you can answer yes to this question at 60, it means you haven’t fallen into the trap of thinking happiness lies in the next purchase, the next upgrade, the next destination. You’ve learned that a really good cup of coffee, a conversation with a friend, or an hour spent reading in the sunshine are experiences of genuine richness.
People who appreciate life’s simple pleasures report higher levels of life satisfaction regardless of their financial circumstances.
6) Do you have a sense of purpose?
Purpose doesn’t have to be grandiose.
It’s not about changing the world or leaving a massive legacy. Sometimes purpose is as simple as being the person who tends the community garden plot, or who knits baby blankets for the local hospital, or who’s there every Tuesday to read to kids at the library.
I think about my transition from teaching to writing and wonder what my purpose will look like in thirty years. Will I still be creating? Will I have shifted to mentoring younger parents? Will Matt and I be those grandparents who host big, chaotic Sunday dinners?
What matters is having something that gets you out of bed, something that connects you to others, something that makes you feel like your presence in the world matters.
People who feel purposeful at 60 tend to be healthier, more resilient, and yes—wealthier in the ways that actually count.
They’re not just passing time; they’re engaged with life.
7) Have you learned to forgive yourself and others?
This one’s harder than it sounds.
I’m still working through how my own upbringing affects the way I parent. There are moments when my mother’s anxious voice comes out of my mouth, or when I realize I’m holding Ellie to impossible standards because perfection was demanded of me.
But here’s what I’m learning: holding onto resentment—whether toward others or yourself—is like drinking poison and expecting someone else to get sick. It’s exhausting. It’s depleting. It steals your peace.
Wealthy people at 60 have done the hard work of forgiveness. They’ve made peace with their parents’ limitations, their own mistakes, the ways life didn’t turn out as planned. They’ve released grudges that served no one and learned to extend grace—especially to themselves.
This doesn’t mean forgetting or excusing harm. It means choosing not to let past hurts define your present reality. It means freeing up all that energy for living instead of reliving.
8) Are you excited about what’s ahead?
I love this question because it speaks to hope, which might be the ultimate form of wealth.
Despite everything life has thrown at them, people who can answer yes at 60 still believe good things are coming. They’re curious about the future. They have plans, even if those plans are simple—a garden to plant next spring, a grandchild’s graduation to attend, a book they want to write.
They haven’t resigned themselves to “the best years being behind them.” They’re still showing up fully, still learning, still growing.
When I tuck Ellie in at night and she asks what we’ll do tomorrow, I never say “we’ll see” in that dismissive way I remember from my own childhood. I say, “Let’s make a plan!” Because anticipation—having something to look forward to—is its own kind of treasure.
At 60, this forward-looking optimism isn’t naive. It’s hard-won. It’s the result of decades of choosing to find meaning, to stay engaged, to believe that life still has gifts to offer.
Conclusion
As I write this, Milo is building a fort out of couch cushions and Ellie is carefully arranging her leaf collection on our “collage table.” They’re wealthy in ways they won’t understand for years—rich in imagination, in security, in the knowledge that they’re loved unconditionally.
My hope is that when they’re 60, they’ll be able to answer yes to these eight questions. Not because they’ve accumulated the most stuff or achieved the most impressive credentials, but because they’ve built lives of genuine richness—lives filled with connection, purpose, health, and joy.
That’s the kind of wealth worth pursuing. The kind that compounds with interest over decades. The kind that you can’t lose in a market crash.
And honestly? If we can teach our kids anything, let it be this: wealth isn’t what you have. It’s who you are, who you love, and how fully you’re living.
That’s a legacy worth leaving.
