In the late 1970s and early 1980s, I was a regional bank stock analyst with Morgan Keegan & Company in Memphis.  I was young, inexperienced as a securities analyst, and trying to learn the business quickly. After less than a year, I was speaking with institutional investors on behalf of our firm’s senior equity brokers.  I have written about this time before, but do so now with a different perspective.

One of the firm’s top equity salesmen was G. Walter Loewenbaum, II, whom everyone called Wally. He invited me to travel with him to visit institutional clients in London, Edinburgh, and Paris. I was about 32 years old at the time.

One evening in Edinburgh, we had no client dinner scheduled, so Wally and I went to dinner together. At some point during the evening, I asked him what seemed to me to be an important question.

“Wally, what is the secret of your success?”

He paused for a moment, then continued the conversation as though he hadn’t heard the question. A few moments later, however, he said something I have never forgotten.

“Chris, most brokers don’t lose clients because they lose money for them. If you are in this business long enough, you are going to lose money from time to time. Brokers lose clients because they ignore them while they are losing money. Don’t ignore your clients in bad times and you will keep them.”

Wally strongly believed in investing alongside his clients. If he recommended a stock, he owned it personally. His clients knew he was experiencing the same pain when markets were down.

I internalized that advice and have shared it many times over the years.

Then he added something else.

“Chris, the secret to my success, whatever that is, is one word — momentum. If you have momentum, do everything in your power to maintain it. And if you lose momentum, do everything in your power to regain it.”

At 32 years of age, I heard Wally’s comments entirely through the lens of professional success. Momentum meant productivity, growth, client relationships, recognition, income, and continuing to move forward professionally.

And for many years, that interpretation served me well.

What I could not appreciate then was that momentum changes meaning as we age.

For decades, my life moved at a fairly relentless pace. Building Mercer Capital. Writing and speaking. Client work. Deadlines. Meetings. Responsibilities.

Like many professionals, I became conditioned to motion and productivity. External demands created structure and momentum almost automatically.

Then came semi-retirement.

What surprised me was not slowing down. What surprised me was how difficult it was to slow down well.

It took me a couple of years to begin understanding that slowing down and stopping are not the same thing.

Many high-achieving professionals spend decades accelerating. Our schedules fill. Our identities become intertwined with productivity and usefulness. We grow accustomed to urgency. Constant motion begins to feel normal.

Then one day, if we are fortunate, life changes. The calendar opens up. The phone rings less often. Some responsibilities pass to younger hands. And many people quietly discover they are not entirely sure how to redefine momentum for this next stage of life.

I think that is one of the great challenges of aging well.

The danger is not merely slowing down.  The danger is losing forward motion altogether.

These days, momentum looks different to me than it did at age 32.

Momentum now means continuing to walk and exercise most days. Trying to stay healthy enough to enjoy life and remain independent. Travelling frequently for fun and family.  Staying intellectually engaged. Continuing to learn. Writing about things that matter to me. Investing time in relationships. Being present with family and friends. Paying attention to ordinary blessings that once might have gone unnoticed in busier years.

Earlier in life, momentum was often fueled by ambition.

Today, I increasingly think momentum can be fueled by gratitude.

Gratitude for health. Gratitude for meaningful work over many years. Gratitude for friendships and family. Gratitude simply for another day to live with purpose, awareness, and usefulness.

I still think Wally’s advice was right.

If we have momentum, we should do what we can to maintain it.

But perhaps momentum later in life is less about acceleration and more about engagement. Less about climbing and more about appreciating. Less about proving ourselves and more about continuing to live intentionally and gratefully.

And if we lose momentum for a season, as all of us eventually do in one way or another, perhaps the goal is not to regain the pace of earlier years.

Perhaps the goal is simply to regain forward motion — gratefully.

As always, be well, and age gratefully,

Chris