The woman on the bus had silver hair twisted into a loose bun and bright red sneakers that did not match her coat. She caught the reflection of a teenager’s phone camera pointing her way and, instead of shrinking, she flashed a peace sign and pulled a ridiculous face. The whole back row exploded with laughter.
She was about 70, maybe more. Her shopping bag was full of vegetables, a paperback novel, and something wrapped in glittery paper. As she got off, I heard one of the teens whisper, “I hope I’m like that when I’m older.”
That sentence lingers in the air long after the doors close.
1. Still being genuinely curious about new things
You can tell within five minutes if someone has stopped being curious. Their world shrinks to complaints about their knees, the news channel they watch, and the doctor’s waiting room. Their sentences end with “at my age” like a full stop on possibility.
The people who turn heads at 70 are the ones still poking at life, asking questions, trying the new café, wondering how an app works rather than declaring they’ll never use it. Curiosity shows in the way they listen, the way their eyes light up when someone mentions a place they’ve never been.
It’s not about chasing youth. It’s about refusing to move into mental retirement.
Think of the grandfather who starts learning Spanish at 72 because his granddaughter is moving to Madrid. His accent is terrible, he rolls his r’s like a lawnmower, but he practises with the barista every morning and proudly orders his coffee in broken phrases.
Or the retired teacher who signs up for a pottery class where everyone else is under 35. She walks in, hands shaking slightly, and goes home covered in clay and stories about the DJ who makes vases on the side. People talk about them not because they’re extraordinary, but because they haven’t stopped being beginner-level at something.
They’re not stuck telling the same three anecdotes from 1992. They’re collecting new ones.
Curiosity at 70 sends a quiet signal: “I’m still in the game.” It tells younger people you’re not just preserving memories, you’re making some.
Brain science backs this up: learning new skills actually changes the brain, even late in life. But beyond biology, curiosity is social glue. People want to be around someone who asks, “Tell me more,” instead of, “Why would you do that?”
*The difference between “old” and “older” is often whether your questions outnumber your complaints.*
2. Moving your body like it still belongs to you
You don’t need to be that 70-year-old running marathons on YouTube. The magic is in still moving your body like it matters. Walking with purpose instead of shuffling. Reaching up to grab your own suitcase. Stretching in the morning rather than quietly surrendering to stiffness.
The people who inspire that “I hope I’m like that” reaction usually have some kind of movement ritual. It might be a daily walk with a neighbour, tai chi in the park, water aerobics, or dancing in the kitchen while the kettle boils. They’re not aiming for a six-pack. They just want to be able to get down on the floor with a toddler and get back up without calling for a winch.
They move, not to avoid aging, but to inhabit it fully.
Picture a 74-year-old in a bright blue tracksuit speed-walking through the local mall at opening time. He knows every security guard by name. Or the woman with a delicate cane who still insists on taking the stairs because, as she says, “I don’t train for the Olympics, I train for the bathroom at 3 a.m.”
These aren’t fitness influencers. They’re the quiet heroes at your local park. Studies show that even gentle movement can cut the risk of falls, dementia, and depression. Yet the real change happens in how they carry themselves. Shoulders back. Eyes up. A body that says, “I still live here.”
You feel it when they walk into a room. They’re not apologising for taking up space.
Let’s be honest: nobody really does this every single day. There are cold mornings, sore hips, and days when the sofa wins. The difference is they return to it, again and again, like brushing their teeth.
One 71-year-old told me:
“I don’t exercise to live longer. I exercise so I can still put on my own shoes and dance at the next wedding.”
Here are some low-pressure moves that change everything:
- Walk 10–20 minutes most days, even slowly.
- Stand up and sit down from a chair 10 times without using your hands.
- Stretch your arms above your head three times a day.
- Practice balancing on one leg while brushing your teeth.
- Carry your own light groceries when you can.
3. Keeping real friendships alive (not just family chats)
There’s a special energy around older people who still have friends they actually see. Not just polite Christmas cards or quick “how are you” texts, but coffee dates, messy conversations, shared jokes that make them snort in public.
At 70, friendships can be complicated. People move, partners die, health gets in the way. Yet the people others secretly admire are the ones who keep rebuilding their circle, piece by piece. They invite the new neighbour for tea. They talk to the other regular at the dog park. They call, instead of waiting to be called.
They don’t cling only to their children’s lives to feel connected. They cultivate their own.
We’ve all been there, that moment when you scroll through your phone and realise half your contacts are people you haven’t spoken to in years. At 70, that silence is louder. One widower told me he made a rule: one call a day, even just five minutes. Old army buddy, former colleague, the woman from choir.
Soon, his small flat turned into a revolving door of visitors bringing cake, photos, and gossip. Younger neighbours started dropping by too. Not out of pity, but because his living room felt alive. That’s what makes people say, **“I hope I’m like that when I’m older”** — not just being loved by family, but being chosen by friends.
Social contact isn’t decoration. It’s survival.
Loneliness at 70 doesn’t always look like solitude. It can look like being surrounded by people who see you only as “Nan” or “Grandad,” never as a person with opinions and flaws and a dirty sense of humour.
The admired elders keep at least one space where they’re just themselves — a choir, a book club, a men’s shed, a knitting group, even an online forum. They send the meme, they remember birthdays, they apologise when they’ve snapped.
They are still someone’s friend, not only someone’s responsibility.
4. Saying yes to small adventures
There’s a quiet respect for the 70-year-old who still says yes to things that feel slightly too big. Not reckless, backpacking-without-insurance bold, but the small, surprising yes. A weekend away with friends. A cooking workshop in another town. Going to a concert where you don’t know the band.
This doesn’t vanish because the knees creak. It just looks different. The adventure might be getting on a plane for the first time in 20 years or joining a local theatre group and taking the smallest part. It might simply be going out in the rain instead of using the drizzle as an excuse to stay home.
That yes keeps life from becoming a waiting room.
I met a couple in their early 70s who decided to visit every café in their city, one by one. They made a list and ticked off a new place every Tuesday. Some were terrible. One was so good they went back three times. They ended up befriending three baristas, a musician, and another “Tuesday regular” who later joined their card game nights.
None of this would look impressive on social media. Yet their grandchildren brag about them. Friends tell their story at dinner parties. Not because they’re extraordinary travellers, but because they refused the slow fade into “we don’t go out much anymore.”
Small adventures add up to a life that still feels slightly unpredictable.
Saying yes is not about denying age. It’s about not letting fear of inconvenience run the whole show. The admired 70-year-olds are realistic: they pack medication, they book ground-floor rooms, they rest after big days.
What they don’t do is let “I’m too old for that” become their default setting. They question it. They test it gently. They pick one thing a month that stretches them — a new route, a new dish, a new person to talk to.
That pattern of tiny courage is what younger people notice, quietly, and store away as a model.
5. Still caring about how you show up in the world
There’s something quietly powerful about a 70-year-old who still cares how they present themselves. Not obsessively chasing youth, but showing they haven’t walked away from their own reflection. Clean shoes. A shirt that fits. A touch of lipstick or a favourite watch.
This isn’t vanity. It’s a form of respect — for yourself and for the people who have to look at you over lunch. The elders who turn heads don’t dress like teenagers. They dress like themselves, upgraded. A bit of colour. Clothes that say, “I’m still here,” instead of “I gave up around 2004.”
You notice them on the street because they look awake.
I once interviewed a 79-year-old man whose trademark was bright socks. His grandson had bought him the first pair as a joke: neon green. He wore them to a family barbecue and the reaction was so fun that he started collecting more. Strangers commented on them. Nurses in hospital remembered him by his socks.
Or the 72-year-old woman who booked a proper bra fitting “for the first time ever” and walked out standing taller, literally. Nobody’s asking for runway outfits. But when you still invest a bit of effort, people read it as a sign that you haven’t walked offstage.
You’re still playing your part in the everyday theatre of life.
There’s a plain truth here: you behave differently when you feel you look like yourself. You’re more likely to go out, more likely to be in photos, more likely to say yes to that last-minute dinner.
One woman in her 70s told me:
“I don’t dress young. I dress like the woman my younger self hoped she would become.”
A few low-effort habits can shift everything:
- Keep one outfit that makes you feel sharp, not younger, just more you.
- Get a decent haircut twice a year, even if you think “no one sees me now.”
- Wear a colour you secretly love at least once a week.
- Replace shoes when they hurt, not when they fall apart.
- Say yes to photos, instead of ducking away every time.
The quiet recipe for being that older person everyone admires
The truth is, nobody wakes up at 70 and suddenly becomes that magnetic, quietly inspiring person. It’s not about having perfect health or perfect luck. It’s the accumulation of ordinary choices: staying curious when it would be easy to complain, moving even when the sofa is seductive, calling a friend instead of waiting for the phone to ring.
The elders who spark that whispered “I hope I’m like that” don’t usually think of themselves as special. They’re just stubborn about staying in the conversation with life. They keep some edges. They’re not afraid to have opinions, to learn from younger people, to wear ridiculous socks, to start over with something new.
Maybe the real question isn’t what you’ll be doing at 70. It’s what tiny habits you’re building now that your future self will quietly thank you for — and that some kid on a bus might one day look at and think, with a half-smile, “Goals.”
| Key point | Detail | Value for the reader |
|---|---|---|
| Stay curious | Keep learning, asking questions, trying small new things | Makes you feel mentally alive and interesting to be around |
| Keep moving | Gentle, regular movement tailored to your abilities | Protects independence and confidence in daily life |
| Nurture friendships | Active effort to call, meet, and rebuild social ties | Reduces loneliness and creates a richer, shared old age |
FAQ:
- Question 1What if my health at 70 doesn’t let me do much of this?
Answer 1Focus on the spirit of each habit, not its Instagram version. Curiosity can be reading or listening to podcasts. Movement can be chair exercises or gentle stretching. Friendship can be phone calls or video chats. Small, honest efforts still create that “I’m not done yet” energy.- Question 2Isn’t it too late to start these habits if I’m already in my late 60s?
Answer 2Change at this age doesn’t have to be dramatic to be powerful. One new class, one weekly walk, one deliberate phone call can shift your days. People notice effort, not perfection, and your body and mind respond to even late adjustments.- Question 3What if I don’t have many friends left at 70?
Answer 3That’s more common than people admit. Start small and local: a library group, community centre, church or secular meetup, volunteering once a month. Online groups around your hobbies count too. Show up regularly, even when it feels awkward at first. Relationships grow from repetition.- Question 4How do I stay “myself” without trying to act young?
Answer 4Base your choices on what feels energising, not on what looks youthful. Wear the colours you love, learn things that intrigue you, move in ways that feel good. You’re not auditioning for youth; you’re deepening your own character.- Question 5What can I do today, whatever my age, to be that kind of older person later?
Answer 5Pick one area — curiosity, movement, friendships, adventure, or how you show up — and make a tiny, repeatable change. Read one article on something new, walk around the block, text an old friend, say yes to a small invite, or upgrade one item of clothing. Then repeat it next week. That’s how the future you gets built.
