Lessons Learned from “Falling Upward” by Richard Rohr

Ever wondered why some people get crankier with age and some exude wisdom? In his book, Falling Upward, Richard Rohr provides interesting insights into this mystery. The Franciscan priest offers a very attractive model, according to which life consists of two parts, each of which has its purposes and tasks.

The First Half: Constructing Your Container

Consider the early stage of life as the building of a strong ship. You are building identity, piling up achievements, and creating your social niche. This is the time of immense energy directed towards external achievements.

In these formative decades, we focus on answers and not questions. Success means climbing the ladder in career, relationships, finances. Society is proud of such endeavors, and it is so. Without this background work, we would be without structure.

This is where it gets interesting, though. This stage is very much dominated by binary thinking. Right and wrong, success and failure, us and them. This kind of clarity is comforting and gives guidance in times of uncertainty.

The ego takes possession of this land. It must show itself, draw boundaries, and distance itself from others. Competition is a force of progress. Success proves life. These are not character flaws; they are developmental needs!

However, something strange occurs when when we become fixated on our overall mindset. What brought us to the forefront holds us back and starts to limit our development. The qualities that made our container are the same qualities that can turn into prison walls.

The Tumble That Transforms

Rohr presents a shocking idea: the only way to change significantly is to fall. This is not necessarily a catastrophic failure. It may be little disappointments, health problems, relationship difficulties, or just life not being as we would like it to be.

These tumbles? They are the invitations to the second half of life.

Why should we trip to climb? Comfort zones do not like to expand. The identities that we diligently build become castles that guard us against vulnerability. Only when things seem to be going wrong can we learn what is beyond our limited horizons.

Think of how athletes become better. They do not make muscles stronger by not using resistance, they use it! The same can be applied to spiritual and emotional maturity, which is frequently achieved through hardships, not avoiding them.

The falling is not punishment; it is curriculum. The greatest life lessons often come in the form of problems. What seems to be destroying may be a reconstructive process, that is, the destruction of old structures to allow the enlargement of knowledge.

Paradox and Mystery

The second half of living is a paradigm shift in thinking patterns. Where we used to desire to know, we now start enjoying uncertainty. We stop insisting on having the answers now and become comfortable with questions.

This change is confusing at first. After decades of black-and-white decision-making, we are in a world of grays. Right and wrong become more of a gray area, and difficult facts replace easy answers.

But the interesting thing is that this confusion frequently results in true wisdom. Once we stop trying to have all the answers, we become curious about the mysteries of life. Arrogance is substituted with humility. Mercy overrides criticism.

Paradox is transformed into an ally rather than an antagonist. We find that seemingly contradictory truths can be held in harmony. Power and weakness go hand in hand. Trust and doubt go hand in hand. Happiness and sadness make melodious music.

This is not intellectual acrobatics but emotional maturity. Life is too complicated to be handled by simple, either-or solutions. The second half teaches us to have more than one point of view at a time without having to resolve it.

The Transition from Achievement to Being

The most important shift is the transition from doing to being. The first half of life is all about achievement and possession. We gauge value based on external standards, our positions, wealth, fame etc.

Second-half living is about ‘being’ rather than ‘doing.’ What you have done is less important than who you do it with. Personality over qualifications. Realness is more important than performance.

It does not imply giving up productivity or excellence. Instead, it is about redefining success. Impact is more valued than income. Relationships are more important than recognition. Legacy is more than luxury.

The ego slowly takes a back seat to what Rohr calls the “true self.” This is your most fundamental and authentic self, not your resume or reputation. It is what you are when no one looks and nothing has to be proven.

This transition is usually accompanied by a great deal of relief. The tiring act of living in the first half is replaced with a relaxing reality. You cease to wear masks and begin to show sincere manifestations of your inner being.

Giving Up the Desire to Be Right

Among the most freeing elements of second-half living is the need to be right about everything. Adolescents are under pressure to be opinionated, to argue forcefully, and to prove points.

Wisdom is maturity that acknowledges the finitude of human knowledge. We get used to saying, “I do not know.” We own up to our mistakes without destroying our self-esteem. We do alter our minds when we are given persuasive evidence.

This humility of the mind opens room for constant learning. We are not defending old beliefs but are open to new information. Defensiveness is replaced by curiosity. Seeking becomes more important than being right.

Discussions turn into adventures rather than contests. We listen to learn, not to talk. Various perspectives become opportunities to grow instead of threats to our identity.

The Gift of Suffering

According to Rohr, suffering, when correctly worked through, is transfiguring. Not every pain can be the source of growth. Occasionally, it can make one bitter or cynical. However, when we confront challenges positively, they can stimulate radical growth.

This does not romanticize suffering and does not mean we should pursue it. Instead, it does not ignore that pain, when bound to come, can be a teacher when we desire to learn its lessons.

Hardships tend to remove trivial interests and reveal real values. They make us reconsider our priorities and values, make us more humble, and tender our hearts to struggling people.

Some individuals have said that their most difficult times proved to be their most developmental phases in life. Sickness made them appreciate things. Loss showed the value of relationships. Failure emphasized the role of resilience.

The difference is in the way we react to misfortune. Do we see ourselves as victims or students? Do we shut down our hearts or open them more? Are we blaming other people or taking responsibility for our development?

Discovering Your Calling

Second-half living is frequently about finding or re-finding true purpose. This can be vastly different from the initial half aspirations. What used to be our career goals may feel empty, and the metrics that used to be important in success may appear shallow.

This has the potential to cause an identity crisis. Who are you, other than the job title? What would you be worth that is not determined by income or status? These awkward questions lead to self-understanding.

Most people discover that their calling comes out of their pain or their passion, not out of their planning. The challenges they have conquered turn into insights they can offer to others. The happiness they have found is a catchy inspiration.

This does not always imply radical career shifts, but it can. Sometimes, it is about replacing old roles with new ambitions and vision. The accountant is a healer of finances. The teacher becomes a mentor of wisdom. The parent becomes a family sage.

Openhanded Living

Spirituality in the second half is about letting go. This is in the form of possessions, relationships, achievements, and even life itself; not without indifference but with non-attachment.

This idea can be confusing to some people. Isn’t non-attachment not caring? It is the reverse. When we don’t frantically hold onto results, we can be more loving and helpful servants.

Think of holding a butterfly in your hand. Hold it too hard, and you will kill it. Hold it too lightly, and it may fly. The right touch is to hold the butterfly so it can rest and have the freedom to fly away when it wants to.

This applies to all things in life. Relationships thrive when we love and do not possess. When we obsessively care about our work, it gets better. Our own lives are enriched when we say that they are a gift and not a possession.

The Wise Old Men

Where we once could have written off the views of older people as being out of touch, we start to see the wisdom they have gained over the years.

These are people who have gone through decades of experience. They have seen transformation trends, endured many storms, and learned what is sustainable and what is not. Their opinions are weighed by the fact that they have lived the experience they are discussing.

This does not imply romanticizing age or thinking that all older adults are wise. Others are still living in the first-half mentality. However, those who have made it through the transition have valuable advice to give to others going through the same process.

Relationships with intergenerational people are turned into treasures instead of obligations. Stories are turned into teachings instead of repetitions. History turns out to be wisdom rather than information only.

Conclusion

In his book, Falling Upward, Richard Rohr reminds us that life seems to get worse before it gets better, and the so-called setbacks are often setups for a new way of being. The failures that cause us to abandon our first-half agendas usually propel us into second-half meaning.

This is not about rejecting success and accepting failure. Instead, it is about understanding that true satisfaction presupposes a shift in focus to internal rather than external validation. Success is a shift from the right answers to the better questions.

The transition between the first and second half does not happen automatically; instead, it involves an intentional engagement in life’s challenges. However, for those ready to fall upwards, the benefits are richer connections, a true sense of purpose, and the peace that passes all understanding.

And perhaps most importantly, this point of view brings hope. Your errors are not the last judgments. Your sufferings are not some vain suffering. Your muddled head is not a permanent disability. They could be a call to find out what you should be.

The upward journey is not always easy and sometimes requires a fall first. And that? That is all right.