Maybe that’s part of entering life’s wisdom era—you start naming the things you’ve lived enough to recognize. So as the year winds down, I’ve been reflecting on five of my favorite “Chip-isms,” each born from conversations at MEA, quiet moments of observation, or the delightful quirks of midlife reinvention.
Worktrovert came from the strange paradox of midlife careers. Some of us love people but don’t love meetings. Some of us crave collaboration but also crave quiet. A Worktrovert who both loves to work and uses work as a means of creating space for themselves. It’s almost like work is the socially acceptable excuse of the introvert. Similarly, many of us have become Podtroverts in the gym or on hiking trails with Airpods being our signal that we don’t want social interaction.
Then there’s the Chillionaire, a word that emerged after watching so many Modern Elders realize that wealth isn’t about assets—it’s about ease. A Chillionaire is rich in time, perspective, and the spaciousness to breathe. It’s the person who has enough and knows it. I’d rather be a Chillionaire with no money than an Illionaire with lots of money but no health or time (thanks to Jaja Jackson for embodying the word).
Boommate is my affectionate term for the rising trend of Golden Girls–style shared living. A Boommate – often a Baby Boomer – is the housemate you choose because they bring energy, humor, grounding, and community into your daily life. As more people—especially women—seek belonging and affordability, the Boommate model is becoming a less quirky experiment and more of a cultural movement.
Thoughtfulism may be the most needed “ism” of our time. It’s the belief that being thoughtful—truly intentional, attuned, curious—isn’t just nice; it’s a disruptive force. In a world obsessed with optimization, Thoughtfulism is the counterculture. It’s the reminder that the way we show up matters more than how much we get done (thanks to Steve Yastrow for introducing this word to me).
And finally: One-of-a-Kindness. This may be my favorite. It captures something I’ve witnessed again and again at MEA: the power of kindness rooted in authenticity. It’s kindness that isn’t performative but deeply personal. It’s the quality that makes someone unforgettable. And, when it feels authentic, it’s a one-of-a-kind sort of kindness.
Each of these words holds a little truth about who we are becoming—not just as individuals in midlife, but as a culture longing for connection, meaning, and reinvention.
Maybe this is the magic of making up words: sometimes naming something allows us to notice it, grow it, and ultimately live it.
-Chip