Earlier this week I wrote about attending the Confucius Festival. It was a fascinating experience, but for me it didn’t feel quite enough. Later, looking back at one of the photographs I’d taken, a poster listing the Six Arts of Confucius, I realised I wanted to know more.
Some of the arts made sense straight away. I’d got involved in the drumming for music, and I’d joined in with mathematics, which was simple enough. Archery and calligraphy were on offer but I hadn’t chosen them. But two of the arts puzzled me: rites and chariotry. What exactly did they mean, and could I take something from them into my own life?
As is often my way, I wanted to look beneath the surface. It’s easy to skim a quick online explanation, but I was curious to sit with each of these six areas and ask:
What can I, in later life, take from this? What might we, as older people, carry forward – for ourselves and for those who come after us?
Because I don’t see later life only as a time for ourselves. I believe we also carry a responsibility to share what we’ve learned, not in a prescriptive way, not telling younger people “this is what you should do”, but by living as role models, mentors, elders who reflect back what has mattered and what endures.
So, here’s how I’ve been thinking about the Six Arts.
1. Rites (禮)
Rites weren’t just about ceremonies. In Confucian thought they were about respect, social harmony, and moral conduct; how we live in relationship with others.
In later life, this speaks to me as the art of carrying ourselves with dignity, showing care for family and community, and remembering that our presence sets a tone. We don’t always realise it, but the way we act: with kindness, patience, or impatience, ripples outward. I am aiming to be more like this, to take a bit more time to pay attention and listen to others. To catch myself (although not all of the time) as I rush off and instead to pause and pay attention to others, especially those who need more time and patience.
2. Music (樂)
At the festival I heard drumming, powerful and rhythmic and was able to participate in this. Music was seen as a way to nurture balance and harmony, not just entertainment. In later life, music can be a source of joy, memory, and community. Whether we sing, drum, or simply listen, it connects us to something larger than ourselves. I think of music now as medicine for the soul and it is a big part of my life. I want to listen to music that resonates through my body.
3. Archery (射)
Archery trained both body and focus. It was less about hitting a target and more about composure, control, and intention. For us, archery can be a metaphor: how we focus our limited time and energy in later life. What do we choose to aim at now? Where do we place our attention? It’s a reminder to be deliberate. I can relate this to my gym sessions with a focus on form, breathing and setting myself steady before I start.
4. Chariotry (御)
This one puzzled me until I learned it meant the skill of driving horse-drawn chariots, a discipline of coordination and strategy. We don’t drive chariots now, but perhaps in later life it can stand for how we “steer” our days. Do we let the horses run away with us, or do we hold the reins with steadiness? For me, it is about pacing myself, guiding my life rather than being pulled too hard in one direction. I’m setting stronger boundaries, making conscious choices on what I pay attention to and listening more to what my body says to me.
5. Calligraphy (書)
Writing as an art, a practice of patience and presence. In our age of typing and swiping, calligraphy reminds me of the value of slowing down. Taking time to craft something beautiful. Later life can be a time to rediscover this quality of care and attention, not just in writing, but in how we shape our days. Patience and presence, for me is more than being with other people. It is being with myself. Time at my wood helps me to slow down, to listen to nature. Also to pay attention to my use of words on the page, how can I best convey the message? How can I best present words on a page?
6. Mathematics (數)
Mathematics trained logic and order. For me, it speaks of clarity, of seeing patterns, weighing decisions, and finding structure. In later life, this could mean financial planning, but also the ability to step back and look at the larger design of our lives, to find proportion and perspective. Could this be to ensure we pay attention, in a balanced way, to our physical, mental, spiritual and emotional well-being? To consider both agency and community? Growth and joy?
Taken together, the Six Arts aimed to create well-rounded individuals, blending body, mind, and spirit. Reading them now, I don’t see a curriculum for young men in ancient China, I see a set of invitations for us all, whatever our age.
For those of us in later life, they offer reminders: to live with respect, to nurture joy, to focus wisely, to steer steadily, to create with care, and to think with clarity.
And perhaps most importantly, they encourage us to share these qualities with others. Not as instructions, but as lived experience: This is what I have found matters. This is what I wish someone had told me.
Because to be an elder is not simply to be older. It is to hold the reins lightly, to act with respect, to keep discovering, and to offer presence to those who come after us.
