Dear Friend,
We don’t always pause to ask it. Sometimes, life asks it for us: Who do I want to be?
For me, it’s not a one-and-done question. I regularly do a personal performance review—then reset what I want to change.
When I speak about my Purposeful Third Act, I typically frame it around three anchors: impact, learning, and joy. In practice, it’s more multidimensional. I think about it across intersecting dimensions that shape how I live:
- Social impact
- Relationships and friendships
- Physical and mental health
- Learning and personal growth
- Spirituality and faith
- Leisure, travel, and hobbies
Lately, I’ve been reflecting on spirituality and faith, and what they mean in my Purposeful Third Act. The timing is not a coincidence.
For Ismaili Muslims, the community I am part of, this past year marked an important period of transition: the ascension of Prince Rahim Aga Khan V as the 50th Imam, following the passing of his father, our beloved Shah Karim Aga Khan IV, continuing a long tradition of living spiritual leadership.
Moments of transition invite us to turn inward—to reflect, to contemplate, to pause with intention, and to ask what matters and how we want to live.
I’ve been reading and rereading the Aga Khan’s public speeches and firmans, to make meaning.
In a message for the Global Centre for Pluralism Awards in Ottawa, His Highness Aga Khan said: “
This is not always easy work, but its value can outlast us. Once we take time to listen to another who we see as different from ourselves, and we start to understand their story, we may find we have more in common than we thought and our conception of “we” begins to expand.”
This framing shifted how I think about spirituality. It is not only inward, it is also lived in relationship with others.
His visit to Canada was deeply meaningful, both for the Ismaili community and civil society.
I had the privilege to be in the presence of The Aga Khan in Toronto on two occasions.
The first was the official opening of Generations Toronto, an intergenerational living community where people from different stages of life will live and connect. It was a small event with leaders from government, civil society, and the Ismaili community. The Aga Khan underscored the importance of respect and care for elders - our parents and grandparents.
The second was the didar, a spiritual gathering where the Imam meets with his Jamat and offers blessings and firmans (guidance). The experience is both deeply personal and collective. It is rooted in faith and connected to how we live. It’s deeply felt and hard to fully describe.
I found myself asking: Is this spirituality, or faith? As I strive to live life with “ands” rather than “buts,” for me, it is both.
Faith often lives in structure, in shared beliefs, rituals, and community. It offers continuity and a sense of belonging.
Spirituality feels more personal, an inner orientation. A way of being. How we relate to ourselves, and to others. A connection that extends beyond myself, a reminder that I am part of something larger than myself.
And yet, in this experience, the distinction mattered less than I expected. There was no tension between the two, only alignment.
It brings us back to what matters most: the basics of humanity, lived, not just understood.
The common threads in the Aga Khan’s messages are clear: ethics lived in action and expressed through how we treat one another, how we live our values, and the responsibility we carry for each other.
- Kindness: How we extend care and consideration to others
- Empathy: How we seek to understand and meet people where they are
- Respect: How we value people for who they are
- Care: How we show up with humanity and heart
- Inclusion: How we make people feel seen, heard, and that they belong
Simple ideas? Yes. Easy to live? Not always.
The question became more personal, and more demanding: Are my behaviours aligned with who I want to be in this Third Act? Not just in the roles I take on. Also in how I show up, every day, in how people experience me.
Someone who tries, and knows she won’t always get it right.
Who is grateful, and expresses it.
Who is kind, more often.
Who is empathetic, especially when it matters most.
Who listens to learn, not to judge.
Who sees people for who they are, and meets them there.
A work in progress, always.