One evening at “formal hall” at the University of Cambridge’s Homerton College, we witnessed the unexpected: a barn owl named ‘Minnie’ gliding silently through the Great Hall, then perching on a camera, reminding us of a Hogwarts-like wonder.
Minnie moved through the evening air in near-complete silence, guided more by listening than by sight. Watching Minnie, I thought about how wisdom often grows quieter as it deepens—and how that quality of quiet attentiveness might be exactly what later life asks of us.
YouTube cover photo credit: Homerton College / David Johnson
It also brought to mind a word I had recently encountered: opsicocious. First coined by author Catherine Hiller in HuffPost, it is defined as: attempting new things—showing vigor and initiative—at an age when such behavior is no longer expected. Marked by late-blooming boldness, it is, in a word, the opposite of precocious.
As modern elders, activating this quality can be both unsettling and liberating. To do and say the things that truly matter helps us feel fully alive. When we voice our deepest desires and step into that uncertain, liminal space, something opens. We become freer—freer to be ourselves and to serve others.
My husband, Richard and I had already taken one such step, spending a transformative year at Stanford’s Distinguished Careers Institute before choosing to continue that journey at the Cambridge Better Futures Programme. Each experience confirmed what we were beginning to understand: that curiosity, not youth, is what keeps a life expanding.
As a 75-year-old yoga teacher, I could easily become less opsicocious. However, our online yoga group with older bodies, still say yes—to the postures, to the breath, to the willingness to keep learning long after others expect us to stop. Each time we step onto the mat, regardless of how many years we have lived or how many times we have tried before, we practice the art of beginning again.
To live fully is to remain curious. Willing. Available. Quietly bold—especially in life’s third and fourth act.
The owl is a symbol of wisdom in many cultures, a nocturnal creature that crosses the liminal space between light and dark. Minnie, gliding through that candlelit Great Hall, embodied exactly that: the grace of moving into uncertain spaces, undaunted, even late in the journey.
What new learning, new path, or new conversation is waiting for you now…
How might you activate your own opsicocious spirit?
-Rocky
Rocky Blumhagen is a three-time MEA Baja alum, Stanford DCI and Oxford Next Horizons alum, Cambridge Better Futures leader, and yoga and mindfulness practitioner. Read his expanded thoughts at https://rockyblumhagen.com/late-blooming-courage-expanded-thoughts