From William's Journal, a Random Entry (1)
William, from The Man Who Stopped Aging, wrote a diary, and I am sharing some of those reflections here.
We cannot promise our grandchildren a perfect world. But we can offer them honesty. We can show them what it looks like to care deeply about the planet, about people, and about peace. We can teach them resilience, not by preaching it, but by embodying it. They are watching. Always watching.
I realize that part of growing older is learning to speak softly and act clearly. It’s choosing humility over dominance, patience over fury, and presence over distraction. It’s understanding that the story we write with our lives will be read by those who come after us.
That’s what I want to give my grandchildren—not just memories, but maps. Maps of courage. Maps of kindness. Maps of what it looks like to keep going, to hold onto hope, to change your mind, to begin again. To learn, and age, and still remain open.
And so I write this not just for them, but to them.
To you—my grandchildren—and all the grandchildren of the world:
I believe in your light. I believe in your questions. I believe that even in a world that seems too loud, too fast, and too uncertain, you will find your way — if we’ve given you enough silence to hear your own voice, enough love to trust your place in it, and enough truth to carry forward what matters.
This is the beginning of your time. May you walk it with joy. And may you remember: we were here. We tried.
And we never stopped believing in you.
(From William’s journal)




This feels incredibly grounding and full of quiet wisdom. Passing down maps instead of expectations is a gift more families need. Your words remind me how much the next generation learns simply by watching how we live.