Burn The Candles!

Use the good stuff. If not now, when?

Photo by Mediamodifier on Unsplash

Hope that flame finds a way
Over thousands of miles
Hope it lands on your skin
And it lights up your eyes
Hope it cuts through the shadows
And shines on the truth
Hope the fire keeps you warm in your room

That's why I light, I light a candle for you- Light a Candle, Sheryl Crow

I love scented candles. But not just any scented candles—I'm talking about the bougie, non-toxic, naturally scented ones that usually come with an eye-popping price tag and a name like “Smoked Fig and Bergamot Forest.” You know the kind.

Sometimes I treat myself to one. Other times, friends—knowing me well—gift them. So, I have a lovely little stash of them tucked away. The thing is... I rarely burn them. They're for special occasions. They're too nice for just any old Tuesday.

But during my annual spring cleaning this year, I found myself reorganizing the “candle cupboard” (yes, it has its own cupboard). Halfway through the project, something shifted. I grabbed one of those precious candles, struck a match, and lit it—no reason, no celebration. Just because.

The house filled with this rich, warm scent that made me pause and smile. It felt indulgent, yes. But it also felt... right. That little moment of luxury changed the mood of my entire day. And it hit me: waiting for a “special occasion” to enjoy the things we love? That’s the crazy part. Every day we’re alive and breathing is occasion enough.

It got me thinking—how many of us in middle age and beyond are stockpiling joy? Holding onto things that are “too nice” for everyday use. The good china. The crystal wine glasses. The outfit that makes us feel like a million bucks. The top-shelf liquor that we’re saving for the mythical “perfect” dinner party.

Why do we do this?

There’s a concept in psychology called temporal discounting, which basically means we tend to value immediate rewards less than future ones—we think the “big moment” down the road will be more meaningful than the small one in front of us. But here's the thing: we never quite know when that “special” moment will come—or if it ever will. And meanwhile, those small, everyday moments keep ticking by, quietly asking us to pay attention.

Clinical psychologist Dr. Ramani Durvasula once said, “We have to stop putting our joy in escrow.” ( I love this quote so much.) Isn't that what we do when we save the good stuff? We’re deferring pleasure in the name of... what, exactly? Caution? Frugality? Habit?

But here’s the truth I’m leaning into these days: this chapter of life—this one right here—is not the dress rehearsal. This is the main event. We’ve earned the right to use the good napkins, drink the good wine, wear the bold lipstick, and yes—light the damn candle.

So that’s exactly what I’m doing now.

I light a candle almost every day. I work from home, so I pick one based on my mood or the weather—floral or herbal scents for spring and summer, warm earthy or spicy notes for fall and winter. It’s become part of my rhythm, like making a great cup of tea or putting on earrings just because. It says: “Today matters.”

What about you? What’s hiding in your cabinets, drawers, or closets waiting for someday?

• Is there a dress you love but think is “too fancy” for errands?

• Do you own beautiful dishes you never use because they’re “too nice” for everyday meals?

• Is there a special bottle of wine you’re saving for a dinner party that never quite happens?

Let’s change that. Here are a few ways to start:

• Wear the dress to the grocery store. (Maybe top with a crewneck sweater or blazer to make it a bit more casual?)

• Put your takeout on the good china.

• Open the wine and toast yourself for getting through Monday.

• Burn the candle—yes, the expensive one.

And while you’re at it—maybe take a second look at the things you’re not using at all.

If something no longer fits your life or brings you joy, maybe it’s time to pass it on. Donate it. Repurpose it. Sell it. Share it with a younger friend or neighbor who will actually use it. Because, let’s be honest: our kids and grandkids probably don’t want our crystal, our collectible teacups, or our 12-piece punch bowl sets. They live differently. And that’s okay. (My 12-piece punch bowl set was my grandmother’s. I so hope someone in the family wants it!! But I digress.)

So let’s give our “good stuff” a second life somewhere it can be appreciated, rather than letting it gather dust in a closet or, worse, become someone else’s burden to deal with later.

Use what you love. Let go of what no longer serves you. Make room for the beauty of now.

How are you “Using the good stuff?”

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To all our new readers – welcome!

If you’re new here, I’m Diane Padoven, and Leaving Middle Age is my weekly love letter to those of us navigating the weird, wonderful, occasionally wobbly stage of life that isn’t quite young but definitely isn’t done.

Each week, I share personal stories, hard-won wisdom, and things I’m still figuring out (spoiler alert: that’s a long list). It’s all about embracing where we are, letting go of what no longer fits, and stepping boldly into what’s next—with humor, grace, and the occasional scented candle. Leaving Middle Age is designed to spark conversations, and that's where you all come in. Please comment on the posts, share your thoughts and ideas, and let's navigate the "young older person" time in our lives together.

Now, let’s talk about the name.

Middle age is considered to be ages 45 to 65. So what happens at 66? Every bit of research I conducted says the correct term to describe someone after age 65 is “old.”

OLD? Seriously.

I don’t feel old. I don’t want to be considered old. (Or, maybe I don’t want “old” to be considered a bad thing). So, now what?

That’s the question I’m exploring here every week—what comes after middle age, and how do we redefine it on our own terms?

If that sounds like a conversation you’ve been craving, you’re in the right place. I’m so glad you’re here. Feel free to search through the archives. Let me know if a past story resonates. Thank you for subscribing.

Have a good week.

Much love!

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