In Praise of Bonification
On time, aging, and the strange improvement of meaning
Every once in a while, you encounter a word that seems perfectly suited to ordinary life.
And yet it has somehow spent most of its existence hiding in technical manuals, where good words go to be quietly ignored.
Bonification is one of those words.
The word itself comes from the Latin bonificare, meaning “to make good” or “to improve.” In Medieval France, the idea evolved to mean “ameliorate,” and by the time it entered English in the seventeenth century, it had settled comfortably into agricultural manuals, bankers’ books, and astrology textbooks.
Many people don’t realize that some of the most popular destinations in the world rest on bonified land — land that was drained, reclaimed, and reimagined for human habitation. The Netherlands, Venice, and Singapore all have long histories of this sort of geographical optimism — the belief that water, given enough encouragement, will eventually behave.
Financially, a bonification refers to the gradual improvement of economic conditions. It might appear as a bonus, subsidy, or some other form of betterment, usually provided over time, which is another way of saying not all at once.
In astrology, bonification occurs when a difficult planetary condition receives the assistance of benefic influences, such as Jupiter or Venus. What might have been harsh or troublesome becomes softened, improved, or quietly protected from its worst possibilities.
In other words, bonification has always referred to the same basic idea: something that may seem troublesome at first turns out to be more workable than expected.
Sometimes, bonification involves careful planning and tending.’
Other times, it simply requires being left the fuck alone.
Only then can something find its way back to its own homeostasis.
Which raises a question.
Could the same time, care, and occasional strategic neglect applied to my own life set off the bonification of these supposed fallow years?
It seemed at least as promising as most of the other advice available on the subject of aging.
At some point past midlife, you begin noticing that the cultural conversation about aging becomes oddly quiet.
This is not because people stop aging. It’s because everyone suddenly starts speaking about it in a lowered voice, as though discussing a mildly embarrassing medical condition that everyone has and no one would like to admit.
The message is that the interesting part of life happens early: youth, ambition, the accumulation of firsts. Everything that follows is assumed to be an epilogue.
Prepare to abandon the land and rot.
But if you stand still for a minute, you may begin to notice something else.
Life starts behaving less like a straight line and more like a pattern. Events that once seemed random begin to look connected. Choices that felt accidental start to resemble turning points. Family stories that once sounded like colorful anecdotes begin to feel suspiciously like clues.
This realization arrives slowly, usually after several decades of confidently insisting that everything was entirely accidental.
Family history begins to change shape as well.
The characters in the photographs begin to look less like historical curiosities and more like participants in a very long experiment that you are somehow now a part of. Certain traits repeat themselves across generations with suspicious consistency. Temperaments reappear. Even family arguments seem to follow familiar scripts.
Astrology, interestingly enough, describes life in much the same way — as a series of cycles that only become visible once you’ve lived through them a few times.
Time is not merely passing.
Occasionally — if we are patient enough — it does something even more interesting.
It bonifies things.
Given enough of it, many things begin to improve their meaning. Life practices bonification rather frequently — if we let it.
If this speaks to you, you’re very welcome here.