I once read about a woman who had the peculiar habit of cutting the ends off a ham before roasting it in the oven. For no good reason. When one of her children finally asked why she did that, the woman didn’t have an obvious answer.

“It is what my mother always did,” she replied. “But why?” her daughter insisted. So the woman asked her mother. “Why did you always cut the ends off the ham before you put it in the oven?”

“Well, it was the only way I could make it fit in the baking pan I had.”

Have you ever explored where your personal beliefs come from? The ham roast example is pretty specific, I realize. Need a more generic example?

“Girls aren’t good at maths.” “Boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses.” “No one in my family ever went to university.” “A woman’s place is in the home.” Granted, those “beliefs” are all a little dated. My age may be showing.

Be that as it may, there are still a whole bunch of people who earnestly believe, “A woman can’t do … [fill in the blank].” It is such small and limited and exhausting thinking. Exhausting because it is an uphill battle to confront and overcome such thinking. Not only in others but often in yourself.

We conduct our lives and do certain things we do based on our beliefs. What we believe, guides and informs our daily life. To keep things fresh, I find it a good practice to challenge my beliefs occasionally.

I have had a nagging belief in lack for my whole life. The belief was instilled through suffering traumatic losses in my young life. That pain and chaos created all kinds of dysfunctional issues and drama around acquisition and money.

I would spend, then regret my spending, then take things back to the store and then get mad because I either needed or really wanted what I’d bought. I’d go back to the store.

I’d have a full-blown argument in my head about the merits of either buying something or saving the money right there in the women’s clothing aisle. Talk about exhausting. I was lucky I wasn’t committed.

Make no mistake. Letting go of our beliefs can be painful, too. No one likes being “wrong.” Or even if we inherited the belief and are merely following the dictates of the family and culture we grew up in, it can still hurt.

Aside from your whole guiding belief system, there are millions of lesser beliefs we might take a look at and toss. A timely one for me is the fear and losses of aging. I am at that juncture but have never been more happy and at peace with myself and my life.

Yet I am bombarded daily with a dazzling array of products and procedures that will reverse this dastardly process and vague hints of irrelevance and looming discard that accompany my advancing years. Poppycock.

Yesterday I watched the movie, Nyad. Starring powerhouse actors Annette Bening and Jodie Foster, I first noted how lined their faces have become. And that there weren’t heaps of make-up applied to cover that.

Nyad is the story of marathon swimmer Diana Nyad who – at 64 – managed to swim from Cuba to Florida, a distance of some 110 miles. The producers took great care to make it not look easy.

In fact, Diana Nyad eventually only succeeded after four previous failed attempts over as many years. The online movie bumpf around this film makes a lot of noise about Nyad’s achievement breaking down stereotypes of age and gender.

The other word it uses – and I encourage my female friends to consider adding this to their own personal belief system – is that older women can be pure badasses. The stereotype of sweet little old ladies (SLOL) who quietly fade off into the distance is a belief worth tossing.

I take heart from the great ladies and role models out there who have turned the SLOL archetype on its head. Old AND sexy. Betty White. Carol Burnett. Sophia Loren. Ann Margaret. Helen Mirren. Judi Dench. Elizabeth Hurley. I could go on.

Overriding beliefs I’ve had all my life, that I have looked at closely and see no need to let go of are these: never give up and never say never. Because by giving up it is then and only then, that you are done.

I believe then as I always have that “what will be is up to me.” You should, too. As for society’s insidious perception that we may getting too old to take on new challenges, I like to quote my Dad in response to the naysayers and feet of clay people: “Up ‘em.”