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But I soon got a reality check that put me in my place: These folks were smarter than I was, fitter than I was and more well-travelled than I was — they were better at life in every way. The trip became a master class on living life to its fullest, something I knew curiously little about.

The first lesson was the most obvious: You have one shot to take care of your body. On our first real day of adventure, I opted against the hike up a sheer volcanic cliff in North Isotor, Greenland — a place so remote, it’s not on Google Maps. I’m from Wisconsin, and I knew I couldn’t handle the elevation.

You know who could? Dozens of my ship companions. Two weeks of watching travellers twice my age bound up and across the tundra was quite the wake-up call, as was observing the ones who navigated with helping hands and canes. My body now is my body later. My body will only grow weaker if I do not use it, intentionally and with care.

The second lesson was a cerebral one: You have one shot to take care of your legacy. This trip made equals of us all. One dinner, I’d be sitting with a millionaire; the next, an accountant who had spent a year saving up for the trip. You couldn’t tell them apart at first glance.

You couldn’t predict who was the Oxford-trained horse paleontologist, or who was the ex-Cirque du Soleil artist, or who was the radio producer who had interviewed the Queen of England. No matter their background, my wise fellow travellers had constructed fascinating lives. They’d had decades of experiences and could look back on their legacy. What legacy was I building?

I wasn’t proud of my answer to that one. So this last lesson hit me equally hard: You have one shot to take care of your soul. I hadn’t been doing that — I was spending most of my time writing unfulfilling SEO content, withering away at my Wisconsin desk. But here I was, tossed into a micro-world where everyone else was investing in a life well-lived.

These people had decided to spend two weeks crossing the Northwest Passage, seeking out one of the world’s most famous adventures, packing their days with on-board activities like history classes and painting, watching wildlife and generally having the time of their lives.

Toward the end of the trip, with these lessons on my mind, I weaseled my way into the ship’s band. I used to love making music — I never made time for it anymore, but here, all of a sudden, it was back in my life again. Wildness, creativity and adventure were in my life again.

When I stepped off the boat, I was pretty shaken. I had seen a glimmer of what life could be. I knew what was waiting for me at home, what I had built, wasn’t that. Not yet.

Now, months after this cruise, I’m building it. I’m writing creatively. I’m learning guitar. I’ve picked up knitting, kick-boxing, birding and baking. I’m thinking about purpose and trying to take better care of myself. The woman who walked off that ship wasn’t the same one who walked on — and for that, I have 150 septuagenarians to thank.

Jacqueline Kehoe travelled as a guest of Adventure Canada, which did not review or approve this article.