Category: Coaching

A few months ago, I came across a local news story about the oldest bartender in Italy—a woman named Anna, 100 years old, who still runs her bar in a small lakeside village on Lago Maggiore. I felt compelled to meet her as someone inquisitive about aging and longevity—not just as a researcher and health coach but as a storyteller.   Over the past year, I’ve been documenting the lives of older women across Italy through short interviews and simple videos. These aren’t glossy documentaries but quiet portraits meant to illuminate the architecture of long lives. Many women I spoke to were in their 80s and 90s, each offering a different shade of strength, humor, and grace. Still, something about Anna lingered with me. So, on Easter Friday, I went to find her. Anna opened her bar in 1958. Since then, she’s opened it nearly every day—no holidays, no vacations, no retirement. When I asked her why, she said: “I love people. And I’m curious. I’ve always been curious.” The bar is modest—a handful of tables, notes tacked beside the register, a small glass case filled with homemade cakes. Four chickens in her backyard supply the eggs. In one corner sits a computer where Anna reads the morning news. When she hears a word she doesn’t understand, she writes it down and looks it up. What struck me wasn’t her energy or the novelty of her age. It was the community she’s built. On the day I visited, the bar filled slowly with visitors—some coming to say hello, others just dropping in for a hug. One of the regular customers, a woman (85), said, “I come every day. Anna gives me the strength to live.” Anna brushes off the attention. “I’m not special,” she says. “I just try to fill people with love and joy. And I listen.” She listens like she truly believes every story matters.   Scientific research shows that longevity is related to genes, inflammation, and telomeres. While those are critical, the most essential ingredient is harder to quantify: how we live, connect, and contribute. This was the heart of what drew me to Francesca Morganti’s paper, “Longevity as a Responsibility.” Morganti doesn’t treat aging as a passive biological process but as an ongoing interaction between the individual and their environment—a dynamic and situated evolution. Drawing on developmental psychology and ecological theory, she presents aging as something we enact, not endure. She argues that aging is not about resisting decline but about engaging with the world—socially, emotionally, and cognitively. It’s about recognizing and responding to the “affordances” around us—the opportunities for action and meaning each context provides. And it’s about cultivating a reserve of personal resources over time—not just cognitive, but relational and emotional—that support us as we navigate later life.   In Anna’s bar, this theory becomes tactile. She may not speak of social ecology or motivational models, but she lives them. Her daily rituals—baking cakes, greeting neighbors, reading the news—are not about productivity. They’re about rhythm, relevance, and relationship. She selects what brings her joy. She optimizes what she has. And when she needs help, she accepts it. Researchers call these selection, optimization, and compensation. Anna doesn’t follow the model; she is the model. In a world increasingly obsessed with tracking steps, hacking sleep, and reverse-engineering youth, women like Anna remind us that a good life is not about stretching time but inhabiting it. She didn’t become a symbol of longevity by design. She became one by presence.   So longevity is not just the sum of the years we get. Maybe it’s a form of daily craftsmanship—a way of tuning into life with curiosity, care, and the quiet bravery of repeatedly showing up. One cup of coffee. One conversation. One choice to stay connected. That’s not just how we age well. That’s how we live well.   🔗 Read the complete study Morganti, F. (2024). Longevity as a responsibility: Constructing healthy aging by enacting within contexts over the entire lifespan. Geriatrics, 9(4), 93. https://doi.org/10.3390/geriatrics9040093   💜 This article reflects my views and does not intend to replace professional medical advice.    

L ong before modern life became fast and fragmented, the way we ate was deeply connected to our environment. We hunted, gathered, cooked from scratch, and shared meals with others. The food was simple. It came from the land, not a factory. Our eating habits were shaped by the seasons, what was available, and what nourished our bodies. Fast-forward to today: supermarkets brim with packaged meats, convenience foods, and fast meals we can eat in the car. Our plates have changed—and so has our health. A powerful new global study has just reminded us of what those changes might mean, especially regarding the rise in type 2 diabetes. A Global Look at Meat and Diabetes n a study published in The Lancet Diabetes & Endocrinology, scientists followed nearly 2 million people from 31 populations across 20 countries. They wanted to explore a question many of us have probably wondered: Does eating meat increase the risk of type 2 diabetes? And the answer? Yes — particularly when it comes to processed and red meats. Eating 100g of red meat a day (about the size of a small steak) was linked to a 10% higher risk of developing type 2 diabetes. Just 50g of processed meat a day —two slices of bacon or one sausage — was linked to a 15% higher risk. Even poultry, though considered a healthier choice, showed a mild increase in risk when eaten in more significant amounts. Data shows hope: replacing processed meat with unprocessed red meat or poultry reduced the risk. That tells us how we eat meat and what kind matters.   It’s not about demonizing food but understanding what’s happening beneath the surface. Researchers believe that several things may be at play: Processed meats are often high in preservatives and nitrates, which may affect how our bodies process insulin. Cooking meat at high temperatures — like grilling or frying — creates compounds that can lead to inflammation. Iron overload and specific animal proteins may also contribute to blood sugar imbalances. Over time, these minor stressors build up. They don’t cause problems overnight. But slowly, silently, they increase the risk of developing type 2 diabetes. Returning to the Wisdom of Simpler Eating   So, what can we do with this information? We don’t need to become vegetarians overnight. This isn’t about fear — it’s about balance. What if we: Choose plant-based meals a few times a week. Swapped out cold cuts and sausages for home-cooked meals with legumes, fish, or grilled vegetables? Used meat more as a side note than the centerpiece of every plate? These changes are a return to something older and wiser — the eating that nourishes rather than overstimulates.   A Bigger Picture This study matters not only because of its size but also because of what it reflects: a growing understanding that everyday habits shape our health—not extreme diets, guilt, or restriction, but steady, intentional choices. With type 2 diabetes expected to affect 1 billion people by 2050, this isn’t just about individuals. It’s about families. Communities. Systems. So maybe it’s lentil stew tonight, a fresh salad with grilled vegetables, or choosing to pause before grabbing another processed snack—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to feel good. To stay strong. To live well. And maybe that begins with the next bite. ReferenceInterConnect Federated Meta-Analysis: Meat Consumption and Type 2 Diabetes Risk. The Lancet Diabetes & Endocrinology, January 2025.? Read the full study      

M ost of us have grown up believing that aging is simply a slow, inevitable decline—a quiet surrender to weakening bodies, fading minds, and reduced energy. We’ve accepted these changes as natural, even unavoidable. But what if this story we’ve always told ourselves is incomplete or perhaps entirely wrong?   Hidden Secrets Within Our Cells. At the heart of this revolution are discoveries known as the “hallmarks of aging”—key biological markers that scientists now use to measure how and why our bodies age. These include: Senescent cells: Cells that have stopped dividing but continue to release harmful inflammatory signals. Telomere shortening: Protective caps on our DNA that shrink over time, accelerating cellular aging. Mitochondrial dysfunction: The declining performance of mitochondria, the tiny energy factories within our cells, leads to lower energy and vitality.   Understanding these hallmarks has opened doors to remarkable innovations. Molecules previously imagined only in science fiction—such as Rapamycin and Metformin—are now actively entering clinical trials, presenting the real potential to significantly slow down human aging processes   Perhaps most intriguing is the shift away from chronological age—the number of years you’ve been alive—towards biological age, a far more accurate measure of your body’s true health at a cellular level. Using advanced technologies, researchers can now pinpoint the rate of aging in your heart, brain, muscles, and even your gut microbiome. Imagine the power of knowing how old you are and how well your body is aging. This clarity allows us to take proactive, personalized steps toward greater longevity and health Personalizing Your Health The future of aging is deeply personalized. Rapid advancements in wearable technologies, AI-driven diagnostics, and multi-omic tests—including genetic, metabolic, and microbiome analyses—are creating powerful new tools for health optimization. With this data, lifestyle changes can be precisely tailored—not generic advice but highly personalized recommendations that reflect your unique biology. Imagine knowing which dietary adjustments, exercise routines, or stress-management techniques could add years of vibrant health to your life. Movement: The Simplest Longevity Molecule Interestingly, among all the sophisticated innovations, the simplest solution still stands as one of the most powerful: movement. Just thirty minutes of gentle daily exercise can dramatically reduce the risk of premature death by as much as 35 percent. Science has repeatedly shown that movement isn’t merely helpful; it might be our most accessible fountain of youth. Longevity with Equity, Purpose, and Joy But healthy aging isn’t just about adding years—it’s about adding meaningful, vibrant life to those years. True longevity integrates emotional well-being, strong social connections, and a clear sense of purpose. Researchers emphasize that maintaining cognitive health, fostering meaningful relationships, and nurturing emotional resilience are critical components of aging well. Importantly, the science of aging must be inclusive, addressing disparities in healthcare access, gender-specific biology, and global inequalities. The benefits of longevity science belong to everyone, not just an elite few. Embracing a New Vision of Aging The exciting truth about aging revealed by science isn’t about chasing immortality. It’s about empowering ourselves to live healthier, happier, and more purposeful lives—at every age. Let’s embrace this knowledge not to avoid growing older but to ensure each additional year we gain is filled with vitality, joy, and meaning. Because, in the end, isn’t that truly why we seek longevity—to experience life fully and beautifully?  

“I” m so tired.”   How many times have we heard or said those words without giving them much thought? Yet sometimes, hidden beneath that simple phrase lies something deeper—a profound and persistent exhaustion that’s difficult to explain.   It’s more than just a lousy night’s sleep or the need for a vacation. It’s an ongoing, relentless tiredness that persists even on leisurely days. It can feel like a numbness, a strange disconnect from the world, as if the brain is always “switched on,” even in calm, quiet moments.   At first glance, this didn’t match what most people think depression looks like—withdrawal, emptiness, shutting down.  Science, as it turns out, is beginning to reveal something remarkable: the depressed brain isn’t turning off; it’s working overtime.   A recent Social Cognitive and Affective Neuroscience study used brain scans to analyze how adolescents with and without depression responded to a 10-minute movie clip, “Despicable Me.” The surprising finding? 1. Depressed brains overuse specific networks to interpret emotions. 2. They struggle to adjust to emotional shifts automatically. 3. This overworking happens even in neutral scenes, not just emotional ones. Instead of quickly moving between emotional states, these adolescents’ brains stayed stuck, straining to decode and interpret even neutral scenes. They were trying hard, too hard, to process emotions that others handled effortlessly. This precisely explains the constant mental fatigue from the simple act of processing daily life. Think about what this means. Depression isn’t simply emotional numbness; it’s emotional exhaustion. The brain works desperately to keep up until it eventually becomes overwhelmed and disconnected. Neuroscience-backed insights show us how to support emotional processing when our brains feel overworked. • Breathing exercises to calm an overstimulated nervous system. • Movement (even simple walks or gentle yoga) to gently reset the nervous system and ease emotional strain. • Mindful exposure to emotions through music, films, or art can help retrain emotional flexibility. • Structured therapeutic tools like CBT or journaling to reduce mental overload and build emotional resilience. When we recognize depression as neurological exhaustion, our whole approach shifts. Instead of pushing ourselves (or others) to “cheer up,” we can offer what the brain needs: rest, support, and gentle retraining. This realization changed how I listen to my clients and, truthfully, how I listen to myself. It reminds me to approach emotional struggles with compassion rather than judgment because the truth is, the brain isn’t lazy—it’s working harder than we can imagine. And once we see depression through this lens, healing becomes possible and deeply compassionate.  

I t’s a ritual we all know too well, a shared experience that unites us. We wake up to the promise of a clean slate—ready to reset, nourish, and get “back on track.” The holidays have left their mark on memories, meals, and, often, our metabolic rhythm. We vow to eat better, move more, and reclaim control. But by February, most resolutions quietly dissolve. The cycle begins again the following year. This pattern is not just anecdotal. It’s biological.   A Cornell Food and Brand Lab study found that during the holiday period, average grocery spending increases by over 15%, with more than 75% directed toward calorie-dense, indulgent foods. What’s particularly revealing is what happens after: rather than replacing these with healthier options in January, most people add “healthy” items, leading to a net increase in energy intake. It’s a struggle we all share, a battle between our desires and long-term goals. The brain’s reward system, governed by dopamine, is especially active during periods of emotional connection, stress, and novelty—conditions that define the holiday season. Add disrupted sleep, social pressure, and nostalgic food cues; the brain naturally favors immediate gratification over long-term goals. The prefrontal cortex, responsible for self-regulation, struggles to override these primal urges in a high-stimulation environment. Moreover, the psychological contrast between December indulgence and January restriction creates a volatile loop: feast, then fast; pleasure, then punishment. Research shows that change is not only possible but within our reach. It’s not about guilt or extreme correction but about finding a rhythm, repetition, and emotional alignment.   Research from behavioral scientist BJ Fogg shows that small, consistent habits are likelier to stick than large, sweeping resolutions. His work at the Stanford Behavior Design Lab supports the idea that sustainable change emerges from simplicity, emotional connection, and repetition—not from restriction or pressure. When goals are too rigid, they trigger resistance. However, when small actions are repeated in a stable context, they reshape neural pathways, strengthening identity and internal motivation. This is the foundation of neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to reorganize itself by forming new neural connections and long-term transformation. So, how do we step off the resolution rollercoaster? We start by reframing health not as a correction but as a continuum. It is not a quick fix but a conversation between body and mind—one we engage in daily. Simple rituals matter more than sweeping declarations: A glass of water before coffee A moment of pause before eating A walk after lunch An honest check-in with energy, hunger, and mood These practices are deceptively small but signal something profound: a shift from external control to internal awareness. Proper health isn’t found in a promise made on January 1. It’s built in every moment we choose presence over perfection. As we move into a new year, the most potent decision we can make is not to start over but to start differently.