Impermanence is Real: Joel Kampf

I grew up in North Hollywood, CA, on the fringes of the film industry. After earning a degree in film, I worked in the business into my mid-twenties. Becoming disillusioned with the “business” part of it, I moved to Montana to become a teacher, mostly in rural one-room schools. Fifteen years later, I taught myself copywriting and marketing and owned a small firm. After moving to Seattle, with the help of my mentor/wife, I became a leadership coach and consultant. I wear a lot of hats, which may have something to do with my auto-didactic tendencies and my scarcity of hair. I’m an endurance athlete training for my nineties. I biked across the country at sixty and still ride most every day… being in the saddle is my happy place. Now I’m working to combine all the types of work I love into something that serves others, keeps me engaged, and maybe even makes the world a tiny bit better.

What do you wish someone had told you about getting older that you are learning now?

That, at seventy-one, other than some physical stuff, life is better than ever. It would have been great to know that handling the stresses of life actually gets easier to deal with as I age. Who knew that my mantra would become, “That’s not what I wanted, but it’s what I got… so okay.” 

I’d love to have known that as I was leaning into my age, my experience and coaching would be welcomed by younger people…okay, not all, but enough. And to be told that everything I learned would, down the road, serve me in serving others.

When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ place. Along with learning how to cook, hearing stories of the old days, and being a little spoiled, it also shaped my vision of aging for a long time to come. Specifically, the jars with teeth in them on the tables next to their beds made me not look forward to being their age… my age now. 

For all those years, I wish I had known that their fate was not necessarily mine, thus avoiding my (then) internalized ageism. 

Silver Lining: Thank you to my mom, who also saw the jars by the bed. We went to the dentist regularly, like clockwork. No jar by my bed today.

What wisdom would you share with a younger person about aging?

I would begin by sharing that I still do all the things that I’ve always loved, just a little slower. And to think of life as a basketball game. The fourth quarter is the most exciting, so why would you sit yourself on the bench? Retiring into a recliner to watch the world go by is a choice. 

I’ve learned that my life is not a dress rehearsal. Impermanence is real. I no longer put things off till later… There may not be a later. Aging has me squeezing the juice out of every day. When someone asked me how I felt about turning seventy, I automatically replied, “I can’t believe I got here so fast.” Life is short… and marvelous. 

You will be better served to look less for happiness and more for meaning, which in turn will bring you happiness. 

We all make a lot of our choices based on self-protection. We listen to that voice in our head that’s always trying to keep us safe. But we don’t always need to listen to it. As I age, it’s easier to slow down and think about my thoughts and not just react to them. You can too. Think of yourself as an observer of your thoughts… and think about how they’ll impact you and others before you act.

Aging has led me to getting off autopilot and making more choices based on what I really need, not based on what society says, or what someone else might think of me. Because nobody’s thinking about you anyway, they’re too focused on themselves. 

And don’t just rely on your head. Listen to your body. Mind and body are inextricably connected, and they’re always having a two-way conversation. Learn about breath awareness, try yoga… get in touch with your whole self. Keep reading. Keep learning. Keep having conversations about what you’re learning. 

I’ve learned that no matter how old you are or become, a growth mindset will lead you to possibilities you may have never imagined. I love trees. Tree rings grow until the second the tree dies. We can evolve and learn until the second we die. 

The greatest joy in life for me, and one of the healthiest things you can do for your longevity, is to give your time, energy, and heart to others. We’re social animals and need each other. Find others who need assistance and help them. You’ll find out you need them just as much as they need you. 

What is important to you looking ahead? 

It’s a tough question because my main growth edge, what I work on every day… is to be present. I don’t focus on a bucket list per se because all I have is now, and putting too much thought ahead steals me from the now. That doesn’t mean I don’t plan or set goals.

Most important to me now and ahead is the well-being of my family, friends, and those I have yet to meet. During my younger life, I was super focused on myself. And although I know I need to put on the oxygen mask on the plane first before giving it to the child next to me, as I move forward, I strive to see everything from a more interdependent lens.  

Although it sometimes feels unattainable, I am working toward having the ability to encounter every person and see a little bit of me in them while seeing a little bit of them in me. 

I’m currently working to combine the different types of work I do, as I know they are all connected, as is everything. One part of it that I’d love to manifest is working with children again… and elders together. Perhaps an intergenerational approach to working on our emotional intelligence together… still in the brainstorming phase. 

I want to always explore and try new things. I’m open to anything that doesn’t petrify me (i.e., skydiving, bungee jumping). I limited myself by saying no too much in my life, so I want to say yes. I want to continue to build an identity of possibilities.

I want to see my kids and grandkids evolve and be there to gently coach them. And be with the love of my life, my wife, until the last moment I have.