Sophy Burnham's Blog

We were sipping espresso at a Paris café when my young cousin blurted: “I’m 59. In a few months I’ll be 60. What’s it like to be —?” She choked on old. “I’m afraid,” she whispered.

Of course she is. Fear is what we mostly hear about aging. Fear of abandonment, pain, loneliness. It’s fear exacerbated by a 48.4 billion-dollar beauty business, hawking 18-year-old airbrushed skin. I am 88. I’m old. I’m told I’m old. I don’t feel old. I feel about 60, and I find this one of the most fascinating and interesting periods of my life. Who could imagine, studying the muted grey and dark hues of Whistler’s mother, seated in her rocker, that inside she is emblazoned with color, that inside she is a bell ringing: Joy! Joy!

True, I am privileged. I’m not a migrant fleeing war and climate disaster. I’m not a Black woman dying of an abscessed tooth in Mississippi (with the worst health care in the world, on a par with Mali, in Africa!), because she cannot afford a dentist or the transportation to reach one if she could. But I am not alone in finding this period fascinating. One Brookings Institute study by Carol Graham and Milena Nikolova find happiness increases with age Their chart shows a huge smile, beginning in childhood, dropping to the difficult ages 40 to 50, then rising steadily, right up to 98.

 

This is a time of stillness, of going inward, a time of remembering and reliving my life with a deeper awareness and with such compassion as I would not have imagined I could have felt for either my younger self or for those who shared my journey. Sometimes, waking in the night, I twist in anguish at memories and regrets—often concerning my relationship with my mother, or with my father after his stroke, or with a lover of long ago. But as I re-enact them, the stories shift, revealing undercurrents of understanding. I find myself washed by waves of loving-kindness. I’m now older than any of them. I see the stories differently. Sometimes I lie awake overcome by the gallantry of merely being human, and by the goodness underlying our bumbling, stuttering mistakes. At the same time I have become more radical with age, intolerant of ignorance and lies, the product of greed.

What is interesting is that, looking back, I feel that everything makes sense. I can’t tell you how, but all those baroque byways, blocks and detours that interrupted my determined march toward my goals led to unexpected surprises, often to other success. More importantly, they led me to be me. In my old age, I have become me, and, curiously, I’m who I was at five, or nine. Pure.

What I want to say to you is how rich is this period of being old, how replete with gratitude and love. Much of my happiness arises from the intensity of my awareness of death. Never again will I see that leaf shiver in the wind, this squirrel swarming up the tree, that woman opening her car door. Each moment holds a teardrop of eternity, temporary, and even—do you understand me?— perfect. I, too, am temporary, one ear cocked for the doorbell, announcing death. I think it is this awareness which creates my deep, ringing happiness, this hurry to look and love even more.

Love in old age is not the emotion of earlier years, sparkling on the surface of the sea, attaching possessively to one person or object and skipping happily to another. It is rather the silence of dark and profound ocean depths. It emanates outward, pouring prodigally onto . . . everything. The German poet Rilke, wrote,

“For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation. For this reason young people, who are beginners in everything, cannot yet know love: they have to learn it.”

In old age, I am learning love. I’m learning how to love. Such happiness.

The post The Surprising Happiness of Being Old appeared first on Author Sophy Burnham.

A few years ago, when I was 82, I fell madly, wildly in love with a man, a younger man —22 years younger to be exact— and I might mention it was also to my shame, because there is something unseemly about an old woman falling for a beautiful younger man, even if he is in his 60s. We hear about men of 66 falling for 25-year-olds and believing they are loved in return. But I think that’s the difference between men and women: they actually believe they’re still sexy.

But we women absorb agism in our cells, and our cultural horror of “old.” We believe the mirror. We are crones, hags, witches, baba yagas, and millennia of DNA memory reminds us that not so long ago an aged widow, without the protection of her brother or father, was burnt at the stake, or had a millstone dropped on her, or was drowned. (Surviving proved she was a witch, to be destroyed again.) I, too, am a product of my cultural conditioning. I could tell tales about my battles with the mirror.

Nonetheless, I was in love.

For more than two years, we had the kind of restless love affair that made life as fascinating as if I were a teenager, and as uncertain: did he love me? (A daisy will tell.) When you are in love, everything feels new and beautiful. You rise up on emotional tiptoe, and it doesn’t matter whether you are 18 or 81. You Love! Your soul is singing. I woke up each day in anticipation of what might happen next. I felt alive.

At the same time, I was ashamed. How could he love me at my age?

As for our love affair, we broke up after two years, right on schedule, and I spent most of the next year in tears, my heart aching with grief, though, surely, I was as much at fault for our breakup as this man I loved. I’m ok now, but I sometimes feel the let-down, an absence of that flood of dopamine and oxytocin in my brain. Yet I had his love, and thinking of him makes me happy.

Recently, we met by accident on the street, and my heart flew up toward him with joy, taking pleasure in his beauty and grace. Our eyes met. In that moment, I knew he loves me still. No question that I am loved. We spoke a few words, touched fingers, parted, and for a full day I have found myself daydreaming and longing. Could we get back together? Would it “work” this time? But the longing means only that I love. I choose the loss that means I love.

Loss colors all our lives. As soon as we discover something of value, we’re afraid of losing it. Yet life is nothing but loss, change: beginning with the loss of warm darkness at birth into an explosion in light and noise, the loss of childhood, loss of friends and much-loved animals, the loss of investments, of homes with their creaking floorboards and cribs and cozy nooks, loss of jobs and marriages, loss of dreams, and always hanging over us the loss of self that will be produced by death. Which is to say the extinction of the whole world when we blink out. Even this body that I rent is temporary. I live in it like a suitcase, which gets so beat up over the decades that eventually it’s uninhabitable, and then I’ll pull myself out like a white shirt waving in the breeze, and I’ll move on. (I’m told I can always rent another, if I like. We’ll see.)

I never fell in love until I was in my 20s, and that was with the man I married. I never had a teenage crush. But as I’ve traveled through the years, I find that love—and I mean erotic and passionate love—has hit with increasing frequency. The older I am, the more I love.

I remember hearing about one gentleman of 96 who fell in love with a 91-year-old woman in the same nursing home, and she with him. Then the woman’s daughter moved her mother to live closer to her in New Jersey, and it didn’t matter that the mother was in love. She was snatched away, kidnapped without power to protest. It’s a cliché to say it broke his heart. He stormed in grief, convinced she had left him for another man.

So what do I have to say about love in later years? I grow silent before its majesty. Love springs up constantly at every age, like desert grass in rain. It attacks you suddenly, unexpectedly, the arrows of Eros, and it delivers always a heart-lifting surge of joy and creativity, the inexorable, desperate, painful uncertainty, the longing, helplessness, tears, torture, and release.

I remember when I was only in my 50s asking my dear friend Dorothy Clarke, then well into her 90s, whether she still felt sexual desire.

“Oh yes,” she answered. “The other night I had such a beautiful dream. . . . ” Her eyes glowed, her face shining. “I think it’s there until you die.” The great life-force energy, the sign and symbol of being alive.

 

When I was in my 40s and 50s, I was surprised by how erotic and passionate I had become. Freed of the fear of pregnancy, I found that sensuality blossomed and bloomed in ways I could not have imagined earlier—certainly not in my 20s, when I still thought that anyone over 50 was plodding gravely toward the grave. Even my 70s were times of sensual passion—and satisfaction, I might add. On the other hand, it’s death that makes this last period of life so precious. My friend, Sue, and her husband fought for decades like cats tied in a sack together—until Sam got cancer. He was given three to six months to live. He lived another six years, and in that time, they fell in love all over again. It was beautiful. But what felt different to them? Nothing but the sudden realization, principally on Sue’s part, that life is fragile, transient, impermanent. She fell head over heels in love with her husband all over again—and what a waste those years of bickering were.

Now at 88, I don’t have a partner, and I want no more passion, no more “barely controlled emotions,” thank you. But I can’t stop loving, looking, lapping life hungrily up. There is a difference, though, with love in your later years. My love is no longer the youthful sparkling light shining on the surface of the ocean waves. It is the dark and profound silence of the Pacific deeps…very quiet, very dark, very hidden, very true.

The post Is Love Different in Old Age? appeared first on Author Sophy Burnham.

Aging is often portrayed as a period of decline, a slow fade from vitality and relevance. Society feeds us a narrative of fear: fear of wrinkles, physical deterioration, loneliness, and being forgotten. Don’t listen to then. In my experience, aging is anything but a decline. It is a profound time—a time to slow down, to reflect, and to rediscover the simple, extraordinary pleasures of life.

In my new book, The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old, I ask the question, “Well, What IS it like to be OLD? “ I’m more than 85. I’m closing in on 90. I’m told I’m old. I don’t feel old. I feel at least twenty years younger. Aging is not about losing your spark—it is about illuminating it in ways that only time and years can teach. There are gifts to being old. If you are lucky enough to live this long, you find it… wonder-full. Don’t be afraid.

“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.” Gabriel Garcia Marquez in Love in the Time of Cholera.

________________________________________

The Freedom of Later Years

“In these older years, with the luxury of no longer working for a living, with the shedding and simplifying of desires, I think I begin the great adventure of Being Alive.”

One of the greatest gifts of aging is the freedom that comes with it. Freed from the demands of a career, societal expectations, and the constant pressure to “perform,” I can finally focus on what truly matters. It’s true I’m lucky.

Time is inexorable. We all get old (If lucky) and this shedding of distractions, this stripping and simplifying, allows us to embrace the present fully. Whether it is watching a bird at the birdbath, or just reading the paper indolently on a sunny morning (raging at the news!) these small moments (aware that raging is also a choice) are the essence of life. Joy does not come from doing more but from being—truly present, aware, and open to the wonders that surround us every day.

Edith Wharton wrote: “In spite of illness, in spite even of the archenemy sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if on is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways.”

________________________________________

Wisdom Beyond Measure

“The longer I live, the more I read, the more patiently, I think and the more anxiously I inquire; the less I seem to know… Do justly: love mercy; walk humbly; this is enough for you to know and to do”. This quote is by, of all people, John Adams two centuries ago.

It could be me today. With age comes a form of wisdom that is impossible to acquire in youth. It requires decades to learn patience, acceptance, and forgiveness: how to navigate life’s challenges with grace.

This wisdom is not about having all the answers. It is about cultivating humility, curiosity, and the courage to keep learning. We are never free of grief or fear or uncertainty. But the stories we have lived, the mistakes we have made, and the joys we have felt all contribute to a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world.

“You will come to know things that can only be known with the wisdom of age and the grace of years. Most of these things will have to do with forgiveness.” Cheryl Strayed.

________________________________________

Rediscovering Wonder

Oure best activity,” wrote Aristotle, “is the contemplation of the wonders of things, and it takes huge qualities of soul, intellect, and character to spend much time wondering and contemplating the beauty.”

Youth naturally brings wonder; children are awed by the simplest things. Yet as adults, routine and responsibility often dull our sense of amazement. This is why old age, the final period of your life, offers such deep and profound happiness: now, you have time. You have slowed down, and as you do you find the awe and wonder of children has been reclaimed in later life. By slowing down and embracing these quiet, ordinary moments, I reconnect with the world, the same world I have seen all my life long – and yet everything is new, rejoicing with spiritual light. Helen Keller was once asked what she would like to see if she were suddenly given the gift of sight. Her answer surprised me when I read it. “I would like to see the light in the soap bubbles,” she said, “as I do the dishes.”
Can I do the dishes as if it is an act of wonder and awe?

________________________________________

Practical Ways to Cultivate Joy in Later Years

Here are a few practices I’ve found invaluable in cultivating joy and fulfillment:
1. Practice Presence: Notice the small details—the sunlight on a leaf, the aroma of morning coffee, the laughter of a loved one.
2. Move Your Body: Walking, yoga, dancing, horseback riding, or gentle stretching keeps the body and mind vibrant.
3. Nurture Relationships: Deepen your connections with friends, family, and community; these relationships bring meaning and comfort.
4. Engage Creativity: Writing, painting, cooking, knitting or any form of creative expression fosters purpose and joy.
5. Reflect and Appreciate: Write a letter to your future self. Write a letter to your younger self. What wisdom do you have for them?

________________________________________

What happens with Aging?

 

“Age has given me what I was looking for my entire life—it has given me me. I fit into me now. I have an organic life, finally not necessarily the one people imagined for me, or tried to get me to have. I have the life I longed for. I have become the woman I hardly dared imagine I would be.”

Anne Lamott wrote this in Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, and I can’t say it any better than that. I quote her in The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old.

Isn’t it wonderful that if we are lucky enough to live long enough, we reach this dazzling peak? Imagine becoming the person we were meant to be!  What do you think it will be like?

Write a letter to your future self.  What would you want to tell that future person? Your plans and ambitions, your hopes and dreams for her or him, which is to say, for you. Do you like that future self?

 

The Purpose of a long life

 

“For one human being to love another: That is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation. For this reason young people, who are beginners in everything, cannot yet know love: they have to learn it.” Rainer Maria Rilke.

________________________________________

WHEN IS OLD?

 

I take up this  question  The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old.

To AARP old begins at 50.

For Medicare, old (and receiving medical insurance) is 65.

Social Security dates it as 64.

“You’re old when you decide you are,” said one friend.

“When your parents die,” said Michele, “when you stand at the top of the ladder.”

“When it’s too much trouble to pretend any more, when you stop coloring your hair or wearing makeup, ‘Oh, what the heck,’ you say.”

“You’re old when you start telling your age,” said my friend Annette, having spent her life knocking off the years. “Then you get to play the old card.”

So when are you old? I myself at 88 feel twenty years younger than my chronological age, and this is by no means rare. “The tragedy of old age is not that one is old,” write Oscar Wilde, “but that one is young.”

Here is a question to ponder on:  Is “old” a projection? Or is it a perception?

________________________________________

Life Expectancy—a study in failure

When Social Security was started in 1935, the average age of death was 61 for white men, 65 for white women; for Black men it was only 51, or 55 for Black women. Today, life expectancy, in the US, which had climbed recently, has been dropping like a plummeting hawk. It is now 76 for men, but in comparable countries it’s 82.4!

The numbers depend on which study you read. 56 countries surpass the US in life expectancy, or is it 43? Another study ranks the USA as 61out of 237 countries. The US outspends all the other countries on health care and has the lowest life expectancy of any of the large wealthy countries.

If you live in France your life expectancy is 6 years longer than in the US.

Men die younger than women. Boy babies die more often than girl babies. Yet most medical studies are done on men. And despite our interest in aging, we find almost no pharmacological studies that include the elderly.

Yet still, this period of old age is happy. It’s fascinating. Maybe you need to read my book, The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old to know why. It’s been called “such a  brilliant book,” by bestselling author Emma Gannon, and “magnificent” by Julia Cameron. It’s being published in the USA, in UK, Australia/NZ, Japan, Brazil and Spain. “You’ll want to read it with a highlighter in your hand,” wrote medium and psychic Suzanne Geissman. I’m so excited by it. I want everyone to buy it, and then buy another copy to give a friend.

The post Discovering Freedom, Wisdom, and Wonder in Later Years appeared first on Author Sophy Burnham.

Life is composed of countless small moments. Some are fleeting—a bird hopping in the garden, the smell of morning coffee, the laughter of a friend. Yet these tiny fragments, often overlooked, hold immense power. In The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old, I share how embracing the small moments in life can bring profound joy, peace, and spiritual awareness.

As I’ve aged, I’ve come to appreciate that it is not always the grand accomplishments, but the ordinary, everyday experiences that create a life rich with meaning. This blog explores the practice of mindfulness, the importance of gratitude, and the transformative impact of noticing life’s subtle beauty.

The Power of Being Present

“For the first time in my life, I’m not driven. Neither do I feel the need for outside acknowledgment. What I want now, at this tender elder-age, is simply TO BE”.

I try to describe this joyfulness in The Wonder a& Happiness of Being OId. When we are young, the world feels endless and urgent. We rush, striving to achieve, to accumulate, to succeed. But as I age, I’ve discovered that being forced to slow down is not a loss—it’s a liberation. Being present allows me to savor life in ways that youthful busyness often prevented. There’s a joy to youth. But even if you sit in the back rows of the theater now, instead of close to the stage, you still find deep enjoyment.

Thich Nhat Hanh said it: “When you are a young person, you re like a young creek and you meet many rocks, many obstacles and difficulties on your way. You hurry to get past these obstacles and get to the ocean. But as the creek moves down through the fields, it becomes larger and calmer and it can enjoy the reflection of the sky. It’s wonderful. You will arrive at the sea anyway, so enjoy the journey.

“Enjoy the sunshine, the sunset, the moon, the birds, the trees, and the many beauties along the day. Taste every moment of your daily life. “

Being mindful is the ability to fully inhabit each moment and to notice the beauty in what might otherwise pass unnoticed. Watching the sunlight dance through the leaves, touching my horse’s neck, or hearing the warmth in a friend’s voice grounds me in the richness of life. Oh, don’t knock Old Age! It still has a lot to offer until it’s time to go.

Gratitude in Everyday Life

“Sometimes I receive things I’ve forgotten even wanting years before… and suddenly I find I have it, just a little gift, a little love note handed out. But the greatest of all is this mystery of love”.

I remember wanting a garage door remote opener. For years I wanted one, and then I sold my apartment and bought a house, and guess what? It has a remote garage door opener!

Gratitude is the lens through which ordinary moments become extraordinary. When we intentionally notice what we are grateful for, the challenges of life shift, and suddenly we have abundance. Followed by such a sense of gratitude that we are humbled by the goodness of the Universe.

Gratitude is not simply a feeling; it is a practice. It requires reflection and awareness. By acknowledging the abundance in our lives—family, friends, nature, love, or even the simple rhythm of our day—we cultivate a profound sense of well-being. I will go farther. It will bring you joy. Pray with gratitude – that you have already received and thank a loving god for it— and somehow, I don’t know how, your prayers will be more powerful. Try it.

For more, you might look at my book, The Path of Prayer, with information on prayer and gratitude, on using the positive voice, of expecting the best.

Mindfulness in the Small Moments

“Today I saw a woman get out of her car carrying a sack of laundry—such a modest unimportant sight, but I stopped in mid-step, struck by how beautiful she was, this ordinary, middle-aged, sagging woman… For a fraction of a second, time stopped. For a fraction of a second, I was ‘seeing,’ truly.”

Mindfulness is the art of fully attending to the present. It does not require meditation cushions or hours of practice—though these can help—it begins with simple observation. Notice the details:
• The softness of sunlight on your skin.
• The sound of a bird singing outside your window.
• The texture of a favorite book’s pages in your hands.
• The smell of a flower or the aroma of your morning coffee.

By giving our attention fully to these moments, we unlock joy, creativity, and a deep connection to the world around us.

The Role of Reflection

“One of the things that happens with the luxury of time is that you get to relive your stories, your memories, reading new insights into them. My mind is a time machine.” It roams across the centuries, alive.

That’s the thing about age: As I age, I get to relive my life, my failures, successes, my regrets. Yet, looking back, I see that somehow, though I can’t tell you how, it all makes sense. Patterns emerge.

Lessons and gifts that were once invisible in the rush of Doing are revealed. Reflection allows me to forgive, let go, move on. And to understand that somehow even the bad parts were necessary. They too made me who I am today. I’m still learning. I’m still growing. That’s what I’m trying to tell you in my book The Wonder and Happiness of Being OId – that it doesn’t all just stop. you may have slowed down but you’re still having adventures. Only you have to be aware: mindful.

Through reflection, ordinary events transform into magic. Isn’t that worth something?

 

Practices to Cultivate Mindfulness and Gratitude

Here are practical steps that I’ve found helpful in embracing the small moments fully:
1. Pause Regularly: Stop throughout the day to notice your surroundings and your sensations.
2. Keep a Gratitude Journal: Record even small blessings—an encouraging word, a beautiful sunset, a gentle touch.
3. Engage the Senses: Listen, smell, touch, and see with full awareness. Ordinary experiences become extraordinary.
4. Connect with Nature: Walk in the woods, watch a bird, or feel the breeze. Nature restores presence and clarity.
5. Reflect Daily: Take a few moments to reflect on the day. What moved you, delighted you, ANGERED YOU, or brought peace?

The Ripple Effect

“When you are loving, your light expands, enormous… Even your enemy, or someone whom you find particularly annoying, is a being of light, doing the best they can in a difficult world”.

Seeing this with mindfulness and gratitude does more than enrich our own lives—it radiates outward. When we are fully present, seeing with our spiritual eyes, the eyes of the heart, we notice the light in others. I think they are aware they have been SEEN. With attention and kindness, and this encourages connection.

Friendship and Connection is one of the paths to happiness. We are not isolated and alone. We belong.

 

“Nothing is permanent… Each moment becomes precious, therefore, if only because of the darkening shadow at your shoulder. I am exquisitely aware that simply being alive is temporary—as is everything”.

The extraordinary life is built from ordinary moments. Aging provides the opportunity to slow down, to reflect, and to notice the beauty in the world around us. Mindfulness and gratitude transform each day, revealing joy in places we once overlooked. Life isn’t over.

These moments, though small, are the threads that weave a rich, meaningful, and joyful life.

The post Small Moments, Big Impact: Cultivating Mindfulness and Gratitude Every Day appeared first on Author Sophy Burnham.

Throughout my life, I have been fascinated by the unseen world. Angels, intuition, and spiritual guidance are not abstract concepts to me—they are living forces that touch my life in both subtle and profound ways. In all my books, from the publishing phenomon A Book of Angels to the most recent, The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old, I recount my personal experiences of sensing the spiritual dimension, recognizing signs, and understanding how they guide, comfort, and teach us; and showing others how to see and connect to these beautiful spirits.

This blog explores how tuning into the spiritual realm can transform our perspective, deepen our connection with life, and illuminate paths we may never have imagined.

________________________________________

The Reality of Angels

I am lucky. I have had direct experiences with the spiritual dimension. I’ll quote Carl Jung, who was interviewed once by the BBC. “Do you believe in God?” he was asked. He answered simply: “I don’t believe,” he said. “I KNOW.” (The interview was reported in the London Times without the punctuation. “I don’t believe I know.” What a world of difference one little period makes.) Therefore I say, I don’t merely believe in angels. I KNOW that there are angels and spirit guides waiting to help us. I have had my life saved dramatically by an angel.” I see them around the people I give readings to.”
To me angels are not merely poetic ideas—they are living presences offering guidance, warmth, comfort, healing and love.

My experiences are personal, intimate, and profound. For me, angels are a reminder that we are never truly alone, and that the universe—or God, however we understand that word—is a living, loving, majestic and magnificent energy (I don’t understand it, but it’s not found for me in church so much as in nature) that wants more and better for us than we can possibly imagine.

Now, how do you connect with IT? How do you come to “know?” There’s the question. Just ask!

________________________________________

Intuition: Listening to the Subtle Voice

We need nature… Just being alone in nature changes our brain waves… It is when using the deeper brain waves that I am able intuitively to become aware of solutions. I think it is when using these deeper brain waves that I am able to give psychic readings, see spirits. Or even to hear what a horse or cat is telling me.

A hunch, a gut feeling, a tap on the shoulder, a quiet nudge, a sudden clarity, or a feeling that something is “wrong.” Intuition is the language of the holy , the spiritual dimension. I have found that cultivating this awareness requires patience, stillness, and trust. Taking a walk (forest bathing as the Japanese call it) letting your mind meander idly without direction allows this communion with the divine. So does creative work: poetry, painting, knitting, music, when you become lost in the endeavor itself. Intuition sometimes comes as a physical signal: the hair rising on the back of your neck or your arms, a tingling in your hands, a leap of the heart.

Whether through quiet reflection or in moments of solitude, (different, mind you, from loneliness), iIntuition tells you what. It will never tell you why. “Jump!” it cries, and if you stop to argue, you may discover the poisonous snake hiding in the brush. The question is, will you trust the messages when it comes?

A second important bit: all the times when you made a mistake (I knew I should have taken that path, and I didn’t listen!”), all your mistakes are to be thanked. Next time you know the marks of your own intuition. Next time you will listen, trust and act.

________________________________________

 

Stories of Guidance and Protection

Throughout my life, I have experienced signs and interventions that can only be described as divine:

• Feeling the presence of angels during moments of danger or uncertainty. Or just at a moment of quietude and peace.
• Experiencing an inner voice , a Knowing or Showing, as Julian of Norwich called it, that has leads to pivotal life decisions.

These encounters are not always dramatic; often, they are subtle whispers that, if noticed, lead me always to green pastures, new discoveries. It’s curious, isn’t it, that God is on our side?

________________________________________

How to Cultivate Spiritual Awareness

1. Create Quiet Space: Set aside time for reflection, meditation, or prayer. Stillness allows subtle spiritual signals to emerge.
2. Walk in Nature: Trees, animals, and even the rhythm of the seasons can help us attune to energy and life beyond the visible.
3. Listen to Your Intuition: Trust your inner voice, even when logic or fear challenges it.
4. Practice Gratitude: Acknowledging the blessings in our lives opens the heart to spiritual guidance.
5. Record Signs and Messages: Journaling your experiences can clarify patterns and deepen understanding.
6. Keep a God Box. This can be a lovely enamel box or a brown paper bag: it doesn’t matter. Write out your prayers, no matter how small or big and drop them in your god box. There! You have given it to God. You don’t have to think about it anymore. Every six months or so go look at it, take out answered prayers, and leave the others there. You can also start an answered prayer box.

________________________________________

Seeing the Light in Others

The first time I saw people as light, I was overcome by the beauty of us humans. We are spiritual beings living inside miraculous self-healing organisms that we call a body, in order to have a physical experience. (As pure spirit , before we’re born, we don’t get to experience, fear, doubt, anxiety, envy, jealousy, lust, uncertainty. It is such a privilege to be born!) Even physically, however, light shines out from us as an aura. And it is not only a few inches off our skin; you may throw it eight or ten feet away. Can you see it in others?

When I resent someone, or find myself having difficulty relating to someone, I remember to look at their light—and suddenly I remember they were are all spiritual beings, formed of the stardust of God-ness— as is that tree, the dog, the squirrel swarming up that tree. Instantly I find resentment gone. We are all stumbling and bumbling along as best we can, and we all making mistakes.

Do you want to see the light? It’s easiest to see in soft or muted light. Not bright sunlight. Squinch up your eyes tight, and when you open them, soft-focus not on the person’s face but at the air around the head or the empty triangle formed of the head and shoulder. Some people see colors. Others see only white light, like heat waves rising from a tar road on a hot summer day. Don’t look with your physical eyes. You see this with your heart. Look with your spiritual eye. Look with the eyes of love.

________________________________________

More on auras or the light

Do you want to see the light in yourself. Spring the fingers of your hand and see if you can discern the light around each finger.

Or put your fingertips together and pull them slowly apart. With soft focus, can you see the line of light like a road between your fingertips? Now ask a friend to break the light by passing their hand through the light. Do you feel the aura cut?

Another way is to close your eyes. Bring the loose palms of your together until you feel a resistance, a ball between them. It might the size of a tennis ball, or the size of a soccer ball. Play with it. Turn you hands around the ball of energy. This is your energy. This is your aura that you are holding between your hands.

 

Integrating Angels and Intuition Into Daily Life

Spiritual guidance is not separate from daily living—it enhances it. By acknowledging and communing with your angels, spirit guides and your own intuition, you can:
• Make decisions with greater clarity and confidence.
• Find comfort during times of challenge, difficulty or grief.
• Experience joy for no reason whatsoever.
• Deepen connection with others; replace loneliness.

The practice is simple—and so hard: open your heart, and be willing to notice signs, symbols, and subtle messages. Gradually you will even begin to trust them. And when you do, you wait for the messages of the spiritual dimension before you act in any way.

________________________________________

Forgiveness

We all need to be forgiven. And we all need to forgive someone else. Sometimes it’s so hard to forgive. At first your prayer might be, “Give the bastard what he deserves.” But as you continue trying, praying and wanting to forgive the person who offended you, even if you can’t yet want the best for this person, you find that the initial hurt is slowly diminishing. To forgive does not mean you forget. It means that you choose the path to happiness.

Who was it said that holding resentments is like swallowing poison and expecting the other person to die? We need to forgive, and to do it over and over and over. But the person we need most to forgive is our own selves. Once we realize that everyone makes mistakes (we can’t be perfect), once we recognize that our mistakes are merely lessons and sometimes surprisingly lead to unexpected blessings, then forgiving our own blunders becomes easier.

Be gentle with yourself. When you are tired, rest; when you’re hungry, eat; when you are lonely pick up the phone and call a friend; when you are angry, tell someone else – get it off your chest. Do it for yourself. And only when you have cooled down, do you decide how and when to talk to the person who hurt you. Calmly. Without anger, if you can. And only then is it time to let go your hurt. Pray for the person for two weeks: I assure that the person will change, or the situation will change, or you will have changed. Suddenly you have forgiven. It’s remarkable.

The post Seeing the Light: How Angels, Intuition, and Spiritual Guidance Shape Our Lives appeared first on Author Sophy Burnham.

It’s official! The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old is now available, and I couldn’t be more excited to share it with you.

This book has been a labor of love, born from a deeply personal reflection on aging, and the beauty that comes with the passage of time. What began as a letter to a young cousin, who asked me the age-old question, “What’s it like to be old?” quickly turned into a year of reflection, exploration, and writing. The result is a collection of unsent letters filled with insights, stories, and thoughts that I hope will resonate with readers of all ages.

Why This Book?

Fear is what we mostly hear of aging. Fear of wrinkles, fear of loss, fear of diminishment, humiliation, of being abandoned, fear of the decline into chronic pain and death. Of course we are afraid, with a $48.8 BILLION beauty business hawking their creams and holding up an 18-year-old airbrushed skin as the ideal. I told my cousin that day that that she won’t even NOTICE her 60s. At 85, things begin to change, but I find this one of the most fascinating and happiest periods of my life. Then I went home, musing on the question: What IS it like to be OLD? Almost everything about be aging is written by young people! No one knows, for example, when looking at Whistler’s mother in her rocking chair, painted in dark greys and greens that inside she is an explosion of color. In a moment she’ll get up, laughing: “Enough, Jimmy. Go away. Let me out of these awful clothes. I have dinner to make, things to do.”

Whether you’re approaching your 40s, 60s, or beyond, this book invites you into the emotional and spiritual life of aging. Yes, there is loss. But with it comes great gifts. Here, you’ll find reflections on love, loss, passion, and the compassion that comes with understanding the flow of life. Aging is an ongoing journey, and there’s much delight to be found in these later years. If we are aware. And if, god willing, we are not crippled by pain or hunger or poverty. Twenty-five percent of elders live on $15,000 a year, and others live in war zones. Mississippi has the WORST HEALTH CARE in the world! Equaled only by Mali in Africa.

Oh, there are things to change. But this book is a reminder that the later years hold great beauty, and how, I we are privileged to live long enough, we can approach each day with gratitude and deep understanding, and with an open heart.

“My greatest beauty secret is being happy with myself.” Tina Turner.

My Other Books: A Rich Legacy of Writing and Wisdom

If you’ve enjoyed The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old, or if you’re just discovering my work, here’s a look at some of my other books that I hope will inspire, uplift, and provide insight into the many aspects of life and spirituality.

1. A Book of Angels (1990)
This is the book that started it all—my journey into writing about the spiritual world. A New York Times bestseller, A Book of Angels has touched millions with its stories of angelic encounters, offering a unique look at how angels connect with us in our everyday lives. Translated into 25 languages, this book remains one of my most cherished works.

2. Angel Letters (1991)
A companion to A Book of Angels, this collection of letters from angels explores the divine messages and wisdom they share. It’s a beautiful follow-up that continues to explore the profound relationship we can have with the spiritual realm.

3. The Treasure of Montségur (2003)
A historical novel set in the heart of the French Pyrenees, The Treasure of Montségur is a story of love, loss, and the Cathar resistance during the 13th century. With its intricate mix of history and romance, this book is perfect for those who enjoy a blend of fiction and spiritual mystery.

4. The Art of Intuition (2011)
For those interested in spiritual growth, The Art of Intuition explores how we can harness the power of our intuition to live more authentically. It’s a guide for those seeking to deepen their connection with their inner wisdom and spiritual guidance.

5. Love, Alba (2015)
This is a blend of romance and high society set in the midst of an art heist. Love, Alba is told from the perspective of Alba the cat, and covers issues like aging, sexual desire, friendship, sacrifice and the spiritual realm.

6. Falling: Love-Struck, The God Poems (2016)
A collection of poetry that delves into the themes of love, spirituality, and divine connection. This collection is an emotional exploration of what it means to fall in love, not just with another person, but with the divine and the universe.

I’m so grateful to all of you who have supported me on this journey of writing, and I hope The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old brings as much joy to you as it has to me. Here’s to embracing the wisdom, love, and happiness that comes with every stage of life.

You can grab your copy of The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old today and start exploring the beauty of aging from a fresh, joyful perspective.

The post Celebrating the Release of The Wonder and Happiness of Being Old by Sophy Burnham appeared first on Author Sophy Burnham.

2700 years ago Plato laid out how a tyrant or absolute ruler seizes and maintains power. He does four simple things: In no particular order, he

A) takes over the educational system, so that boys (girls weren’t educated then) are loyal to the State rather than family or civic laws;

B) creates fear of an external enemy on the border;

C) manufactures a depression, so that simply surviving (food, housing) occupies the people’s attention; and

D) sows distrust, neighbor against neighbor, so that no one knows whom to trust. No one can organize resistance.

We saw this with the Soviet Union, beginning a hundred years ago in the 1920s. And with Hitler in the 1930s. We see the plan today under the Trump administration. Immigration becomes the external enemy. (The immigrants are not people, but “other,” like the Jews under Hitler.) Education – which books to ban, which to allow—creates a dumbed-down populace, unable to think independently. (Romeo and Juliet is too sexy for high school; Anne Frank’s diary too sad.) Trump and Musk are now in the midst of driving the best economy in the world into depression, where we can imagine Orwellian proles (us!) trudging bleakly on while the billionaires ride in gold-plate chauffeured cars, lick-spittling to the tyrant. Under these conditions it is hard for people to trust each other: will your neighbor, or your son or daughter, turn you over to the police? Will you be fired or imprisoned? Will the state you govern be punished by withholding federal funds? Will you survive a depression, homelessness, lack of health care?

Until recently, I have written about angels. Today we are called ourselves to be the angels and like the archangel Michael, to raise our swords and fight. We have seen what happens when we cede authority. We see what happened Soviet Union, in Putin’s Russia, in Iran and North Korea and Myanmar and Venezuela and many other places.

Stand with the angels. With prayer and courage, let us pick up our swords of virtue and with the angels to help us, let us FIGHT. We are all in this together. Call on angels, and fight.

Thank you,

Sophy Burnham

The post Stand with the Angels. FIGHT! appeared first on Author Sophy Burnham.

2700 years ago Plato laid out how a tyrant or absolute ruler seizes and maintains power. He does four simple things: In no particular order, he 

A) takes over the educational system, so that boys (girls weren’t educated then) are loyal to the State rather than family or civic laws;

B) creates fear of an external enemy on the border; 

C) manufactures a depression, so that simply surviving (food, housing) occupies the people’s attention; and 

D) sows distrust, neighbor against neighbor, so that no one knows whom to trust. No one can organize resistance.

We saw this with the Soviet Union, beginning a hundred years ago in the 1920s. And with Hitler in the 1930s. We see the plan today under the Trump administration. Immigration becomes the external enemy. (The immigrants are not people, but “other,” like the Jews under Hitler.) Education – which books to ban, which to allow—creates a dumbed-down populace, unable to think independently. (Romeo and Juliet is too sexy for high school; Anne Frank’s diary too sad.) Trump and Musk are now in the midst of driving the best economy in the world into depression, where we can imagine Orwellian proles (us!) trudging bleakly on while the billionaires ride in gold-plate chauffeured cars, lick-spittling to the tyrant. Under these conditions it is hard for people to trust each other: will your neighbor, or your son or daughter, turn you over to the police? Will you be fired or imprisoned? Will the state you govern be punished by withholding federal funds? Will you survive a depression, homelessness, lack of health care?

Until recently, I have written about angels. Today we are called ourselves to be the angels and like the archangel Michael, to raise our swords and fight. We have seen what happens when we cede authority. We see what happened Soviet Union, in Putin’s Russia, in Iran and North Korea and Myanmar and Venezuela and many other places.

Stand with the angels. With prayer and courage, let us pick up our swords of virtue and with the angels to help us, let us FIGHT. We are all in this together. Call on angels, and fight.

Thank you,

Sophy Burnham 

Recently I broke my leg and right after that I broke my arm so I have not been able to post anything for a long time. However, I wanted to share with you a story of a miracle a friend just sent to me. I think of it as a miracle, and like many others there is nothing miraculous about it. Like beauty, it’s all in the eye of the beholder but to my friend Kimberly it is extraordinary. And I think it is too.

I wanted to share with you an incredible story of a miracle.

On January 29th, at 4:30 am, I was awakened by a northern mockingbird singing loudly outside our bedroom window. I thought it strange, a bird singing well before dawn. And I was a bit annoyed that I had been woken up by his noisy vocalizations. However, once awake, I turned to check on my husband. He was struggling for breath, as if he weren’t getting enough oxygen. I thought he was having a nightmare. I shook him. He wouldn’t wake up. I yelled at him, “Dan, wake up! You’re having a nightmare!”  Unresponsive.

I grabbed my phone and called 911. The paramedics came within seven or eight minutes. As they were assessing Dan, his heart stopped. Cardiac arrest. They placed him on the ground and commenced CPR. They charged the defibrillator and shocked him, too. A minute or two later, Dan took a deep breath in.

He spent five days in the ICU at Cottage Hospital. Doctors determined it was ventricular tachycardia, possibly triggered by a 90% occlusion in his right cardiac artery, which now has a stent.

Of course, I’m suffering from PTSD and all of the emotions and bodily symptoms that come with it. I wake up at 4:30 every morning thinking that I am responsible for my husband’s life. The overarching emotion I feel, however, is one of deepest gratitude, because I feel that mockingbird was sent by God to say, “Wake up. Pay attention. Something’s about to happen.” I felt called to do the right thing, and by some miracle, I did exactly that.

The paramedics are the true heroes in this story—but the bird singing in the nighttime that saved my husband’s life–that was the miracle.

Recently I broke my leg and right after that I broke my arm so I have not been able to post anything for a long time. However, I wanted to share with you a story of a miracle a friend just sent to me. I think of it as a miracle, and like many others there is nothing miraculous about it. Like beauty, it’s all in the eye of the beholder but to my friend Kimberly it is extraordinary. And I think it is too.

I wanted to share with you an incredible story of a miracle.

On January 29th, at 4:30 am, I was awakened by a northern mockingbird singing loudly outside our bedroom window. I thought it strange, a bird singing well before dawn. And I was a bit annoyed that I had been woken up by his noisy vocalizations. However, once awake, I turned to check on my husband. He was struggling for breath, as if he weren’t getting enough oxygen. I thought he was having a nightmare. I shook him. He wouldn’t wake up. I yelled at him, “Dan, wake up! You’re having a nightmare!”  Unresponsive.

I grabbed my phone and called 911. The paramedics came within seven or eight minutes. As they were assessing Dan, his heart stopped. Cardiac arrest. They placed him on the ground and commenced CPR. They charged the defibrillator and shocked him, too. A minute or two later, Dan took a deep breath in.

He spent five days in the ICU at Cottage Hospital. Doctors determined it was ventricular tachycardia, possibly triggered by a 90% occlusion in his right cardiac artery, which now has a stent.

Of course, I’m suffering from PTSD and all of the emotions and bodily symptoms that come with it. I wake up at 4:30 every morning thinking that I am responsible for my husband’s life. The overarching emotion I feel, however, is one of deepest gratitude, because I feel that mockingbird was sent by God to say, “Wake up. Pay attention. Something’s about to happen.” I felt called to do the right thing, and by some miracle, I did exactly that.

The paramedics are the true heroes in this story—but the bird singing in the nighttime that saved my husband’s life–that was the miracle.

The post What is a miracle? appeared first on Author Sophy Burnham.