A week ago, I found myself in an airport hotel outside Helsinki. I had just finished a long day of flying, leaving my children safely at home with my spouse (though never without the familiar logistical stress test of family coordination). The next day, I was set to continue my journey to celebrate the 80th birthday of a parent who now, due to Alzheimer’s disease, mostly no longer recognizes me. In the midst of this, I had a scheduled late evening local time online tutorial on neuroanatomy and neurophysiology.
This scene may sound unusual, but in many ways, it captures something universal about our time. We live in what is often called the sandwich generation; simultaneously caring for children and aging parents, while still trying to sustain careers, relationships, and some form of personal growth. It is a balancing act that can feel relentless. And yet, even in this tired in-between space, I felt something important: optimism.
Lifelong learning as agency
Lifelong learning, especially the kind we pursue out of personal curiosity rather than obligation, is not only intellectually stimulating but also deeply affirming. It offers meaning, pride, and a sense of agency, even when other aspects of life feel out of our control. Choosing to study the brain at night, while navigating family obligations during the day, might seem small. But to me, it is a quiet act of defiance against the idea that life should narrow as we grow older.
Science supports this intuition. Research shows that continuous learning promotes neuroplasticity – the brain’s remarkable ability to reorganize itself, form new neural connections, and adapt to new challenges, even later in life (Park & Bischof, Annual Review of Psychology, 2013). In other words, learning keeps the brain alive, flexible, and more resilient to aging.
Brains, needs, and buffers
Understanding the brain is not only about theories or anatomy. It is about practical wisdom for how we live and work in a world where most of us will likely need to remain active for longer than previous generations. If we are fortunate enough to reach 80 and beyond, we should be able to enjoy it, both mentally and physically.
But sustaining ourselves through decades of responsibility requires more than intellectual curiosity. It also requires compassion for our own limits. Sometimes, learning means recognizing the value of buffers, such as the quiet hotel night before a demanding day, the pause that allows for recovery, or the small rituals that give rhythm and order to chaotic weeks. You cannot soldier on endlessly without rest or fuel. And learning that lesson, too, is part of building resilience.
The future of learning is already here
The snapshot I lived last week; studying online while in transit, balancing multiple generations of care, and using small recovery strategies to stay functional, is no longer exceptional. It is, in many ways, the new normal. The future of learning is not confined to classrooms or to the young. It is lifelong, mobile, hybrid, and interwoven with the realities of work, family, and health.
And while it sometimes feels like too much, it also holds enormous possibility. In choosing to keep learning, we are not only investing in our minds, but actively shaping how we want to age, work, and live.
