I'll never tell........

To tell or not….to tell.

I did for a while; I was proud of the fact that I was over 60 and was still a viable, vibrant woman, especially since I learned to dance, putting me in touch with movement and thus,  my body.

I piped up immediately, if someone asked how old I am. The reaction changed, however, as soon as I hit that 6-0 response. No longer did I hear, “What! You don’t look 60!” (I heard that at all ages, right up until this one. At 30, at 40, even at 50. But some key was turned as soon as the big 6-0 carried my birthday cake in, aflame with candles.)

And if a woman happens to be single at 6-0, for whatever reason (and there all kinds of reasons, believe me), heaven help her. Men’s eyes glaze over at the mere mention of a six before ANY number, even the zero. My unfortunate experience with dating sites has proven their point to me: they are for young women.

Not young men, though. Men of all ages, even those with the next digit in THEIR age, have no qualms about filling in that profile page with all kinds of fluff and a photo at least 20 years old (and 20 pounds lighter), knowing all the while that they are looking for a young woman to help them believe their own profile.  Any woman taking their bait who happens to be over 6-0 hears a lot of…… silence. A computer screen is an effective barrier when someone wants to use it that way.

A friend of mine, a woman in her 90s, chided me once for blurting out my age when someone asked. When anyone asked. I thought I could show the world that being a “woman of a certain age” did NOT mean a “shriveled, incontinent, unproductive,  drain on society.” I work out a couple of times a week, I lift more weight than women (and some men) much younger, I work, I dance, I write, I contribute. I am not done yet. Not even close.

But none of that seems to matter. So, I am following my friend’s advice and keeping quiet these days, at least about my age. (I don’t keep quiet about much else, but you already know that, right?)  I can’t unspeak it from all the times I blurted out those digits, but I can hope that people will forget.

Happy birthday to me! And, no, I’m not going to tell you which one it is, either.

Not on MY planet........

 

They’re all around us. And as I’ve gotten older, they seem to seek me out for some reason.

Lucky me.

Let me explain.

I worked for someone once who wouldn’t talk to any of his staff on the phone…..and we all worked remotely.  At home. And, as in any job, I often had questions that needed to be answered in order to accomplish what this man gave me to do. Questions only he could answer. So, I emailed him.

I waited for a response, twiddling my thumbs, essentially dead in the water of tasks undone.

I texted him, thinking maybe the vibration of his phone would spur him on….or whatever. (I don’t like to think about that one too long.)

And I waited some more. Nothing. Customers would get irritated, although my laundry was done and my cats were (over)fed.

I emailed again. You know how you begin to think that the first email was circling, higher and higher, in cyberspace, and would never make it through all those storage clouds, getting misfiled somewhere, never to be seen again? So you forward your original email to its recipient all over again, hoping for better results this time.

Nope. My boss was AWOL. Often. For days.

Until he wanted something from us, his separated staff. He still wouldn’t call us, but he’d email and then apparently he sat staring at the screen.

Five minutes later, his second email would ding into the virtual mailbox: “I would appreciate it if you would monitor your emails more closely. Please be professional and respond…..immediately!”

He really said that.

And there it is. The proof that there are people who do not live in the same reality as we do. Their behavior is so bizarre, so illogical, so irrational that it is inexplicable. And to try to make sense of it only makes US as crazy as they are. I'm not sure on exactly which planet they live on, but it's not anywhere in THIS universe.

These are the folks who seem to dog me. I had two in my life at the same time recently, which must have been a test of some kind, the universe poking me with a sharp stick as sport. Fun, huh?

But what I have come to understand is that we can’t waste time with these people or energy trying to figure them out. They will not change, because they think they are RIGHT and the rest of the world is WRONG. The definition of the word “ego” is etched on their soul. I spent a year in therapy trying to explain one of these people to my logical self, until I had a stern talk with the person in the mirror…… and gave up trying to make sense of the nonsensical. Therapy came to a screeching halt.

If only they weren’t so good at hiding all that craziness, we could pick them out earlier. But, what I’ve learned is to let them go on their way, lurching and chattering to themselves. It’s the only sensible—and sane--thing to do. We don’t need to help them populate their reality, wherever that is.

 

“If you're rational you don't get to believe whatever you want to believe.”
― Michael Huemer

 

 

 

 

 

 

Young at heart, but yes....older in other places!

It’s been over six years since I first started writing “Aged to Perfection.”

What I’ve learned is that I’m still aging and there’s no such thing as perfect.

Oh, there’s been much more than that—believe me—but when I decided to bring this blog back, I had to consider exactly how to reintroduce the concept of aging and all its ramifications. They’re not all pretty, but they do keep rolling on.

So that’s my thought for you today, both those of you who are “aging to perfection” like me as well as those younger readers who think it is simply an academic exercise (or a personal favor) to read my words. Those in the latter group truly believe they are Peter Pan and aging won’t happen to them.

Hysterical, right??

One side note before I proceed: Writers engage in this insanity to fight our own personal demons, there is no doubt about that. BUT, we also are addicted to attention…..at least for what we write. As I take you on this leg of the Aged to Perfection journey, please interact with me. Tell me what you like, what you hate, what you disagree with, what you share with others. SPEAK TO ME! I will be ever grateful. You can do that on this page, or you can post your comments on Facebook when you pick up the link there, as most of you do.

  “The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected.”
― Robert Frost

 

 

I was wondering......

Life is perplexing, wonderful, terrifying, and often inexplicable. And as we mature, the answers come no more quickly, believe me. There are just MORE questions.  

Like.....

~~~where cyberspace actually IS. Can I go there to find that story I wrote and never saw again? I know we have clouds where we can now save important stuff, but do the clouds mix with all that space....somewhere?

~~~how the nifty keyfinder device that was the rage two Christmases ago helps me when I'm standing in the parking lot at work and can't find my keys? In the rain. After I've dropped my purse and book in a puddle.

~~~why more men don't understand why dancing is often called "a vertical expression of a horizontal act"?

~~~how doing nothing under someone else's direction can be so exhausting, but if you're home trying to get some rest, it's different?

~~~where that guy behind me in the monster truck thinks I'm going to go when all three lanes are bumper to bumper as far as we both can see? Vertical, maybe?

~~~the customer service person who is obviously in India. Is he having trouble understanding ME, too? Is there a point to all this miscommunication?

~~~when does the "CALL IN THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES!" start on those ads that run continuously? Is the person in India matching up the ads with the local time....around the globe? And what time zone is HE using to start that process?

~~~did God think it was funny to create men and women from the mud of two different planets? I can't speak for you, but I am not amused.

~~~why people in other parts of the country don't know about shaking clothes out before you put them on? Here in the South we know what can lurk in clothes, waiting to crawl on your neck after you put that robe on. Is it scorpions in the West? Ladybugs somewhere else?

~~~why men over about 60 continue to search for younger women? The women in their own age group know for a fact that many of those men can't....you know.....even with that little blue pill available. And a doctor saying, "Since you have heart problems, you can't use the pill, but you can go ahead and TRY if you really want to" does tend to make women a tad nervous. Just a tad.

~~~and what about those younger women when they find out what's NOT going to happen with their Sugar Daddy? Some will be OK with.......well, never mind.

~~~why some people won't pass a police car, even if it's traveling at 25 mph in a 40 mph zone?

~~~those double turn lanes where drivers won't use the second one, especially if it's new? Everyone continues to line up in the original lane, like lemmings unable to get out of order, while the new lane sits empty and unused.

I'm confused.

“Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, but expecting different results.” 

Shock and awe.......

 “I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”

Douglas Adams

As a woman who is aging to perfection, steeped in the wine of time, I am still often shocked--well after I thought there was nothing left to rattle me--as well as in awe of the vagaries of the human race. Some things I know.......

• New jeans with holes up and down the legs, hanging on the rack in the department store, must be an attempt to make us look mindless. 

• When we were 16, a boy who was even 5 years older was taboo. That chasm was huge and not to be crossed on penalty of irate parents, scandalized neighbors, and the law. By the time we were 25, those 5 years had shrunk and they no longer made much difference. In fact, they added a bit of texture to a relationship. But I bet you didn't know that the same 5 years stretch again at the other end of the age spectrum, causing all kinds of mischief for us in our 60s, 70s, and older. Take my word for it.....it isn't pretty. Because.......

•   ....men of all ages want younger women. They just do. The problem is that those men hanging onto the right end of the timeline have difficulty keeping up with a woman younger than they are. In many important ways. And men younger than that same woman aren't interested, because--remember?--they want someone younger, too. Where does that leave me? I'll tell you where: women of a certain age who want a full, true relationship are stranded on that timeline, searching both ends of the spectrum. Alone. 

• Which leads me to this: I should have protected, nurtured, and cherished some of my earlier relationships so I wouldn't be stuck on this darn timeline at all.

• You can enjoy gospel or religious music without believing a word of it. There's just something joyous about it, isn't there?

•  I refuse to listen to any song that has the word "chainsaw" in it. It's just not right.

•  Why do many men refrain from using poor grammar until AFTER you've become invested as a couple? Maybe it's a sign they are truly comfortable with us, their new love. I could stand a little less comfort. Please.

•  When a man agrees in advance to "talk about things that bother us" as you launch a new relationship, his mouth is merely moving.

That's what I know.....at least for now!

No filters.......

As we mature, we tend to filter less. And I think that's a very good thing.         

• When did a group become a "cohort"?
• Why is my phone now a "cell"?
• And why does my home have multiple cells but no phone of its very own?
• Why can't I buy a digital camera anymore but intersections have lots of them?
• Why does my gym offer CHAOS as if its a good thing--AND I have to pay to have more of it in my life?
• My daughter's wallet was stolen recently and it never occurred to me to ask if there was actual money in it.
• It doesn't seem like a wise decision to force taxpayers to use garbage receptacles that are bigger than most people, much less when those bins are filled to the brim and thus immobile.
• Why does my credit union attempt to socially engineer my choice of vehicle by designating parking spaces for fuel-efficient cars--especially when they financed the car I am not allowed to park in front of their building?
• Since when can't I be trusted to safely make a left turn on my own?
• Do we really believe more signs and longer crossing times will remedy stupidity on the part of drivers who plow into pedestrians?
• How come telemarketers call my phone (oh, sorry....my CELL) and then refuse to speak for several long seconds? Didn't THEY call ME?

 “Progress has not brought about universal happiness...”
― Adam Leith Gollner

Putting it in context........

I recognize context better now. As a younger person, I had never  faced some experiences that have now happened to me multiple times in the course of my sixty-plus years. We learn from those experiences, at least  if we're paying attention.

Driving to the mountains of North Carolina from Florida for the first time should have been a piece of cake. It's only 8 hours or so, and I once drove from Florida to Colorado in a little over 48 hours, so no worries. Right? The only problem was that we arrived after dark. An unknown location, at the top of a mountain ridge reached only after putting the car in 4-wheel drive and inching up a narrow, one lane road to the top. The person who owns the cabin told us "It's the sixth cabin from the top of the ridge" and it was very dark that night. (Go ahead; think about that for a minute. I can see your face now.....)


Put that trip in context and I've never tried it again. We leave home in the morning one day, stay overnight along the way, and then finish the trip the next day, when the sun is still out and I can see well enough to navigate up that ridge where the cabin is located.

Context.....

It also raises its head when those who don't have the longevity we enjoy try to pull a fast one on us. We understand context when a 30-something personal trainer makes continued excuses for being late for appointments (for which I was paying him well), with things like, "Oh, I lost track of time" or "I didn't realize it would take so long to get my hair cut" or "Did you know I went back to school? I was studying for a test and forgot about the time." (In other words, he forgot about his customer, completely or simply irresonsibly, or both.) And the excuses always came along with him AFTER he showed up late for every appointment....yes, EVERY one. Sometimes he never showed up at all.

The context is rich with meaning. He didn't call ahead of time to say something like, "My little one is sick today and I have to take her to the doctor" or a similar reason that, within the context of our own experiences in a life replete with them, makes sense and everyone has had happen at some point.

Context matters. And we get much better at putting life in it as we age. We also hold others accountable within the context of a situation, too.

We are old(er) and we aren't to be toyed with.

I now have a new personal trainer, by the way.

Context, context......

“Reality is not a function of the event as event, but of the relationship of that event to past, and future, events.” 

Robert Penn

 

Keep moving forward....

We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.
Walt Disney

I just don't see any other way to do it. The years will march by like soldiers in lock step, one way or the other, whether we choose to vegetate on the sofa or we continue to move forward, open those new doors, and do new things. I choose door #3 instead of the couch.

I'll open one of those new doors every month.That's my commitment for 2014, just like it was for 2011 and 2012. (Read about the idea behind this monthly quest here.) I sat out 2013, at least as far as the "something new every month" is concerned, and I could tell the difference. We really do need that sense of anticipation in our lives to keep the DNA as young as possible, to keep us as fresh and interesting as we can be. It's no wonder we get cranky and grumpy as we age.....we've given up being surprised and delighted by anything unique or challenging.

I spend a lot of time at my gym, mostly working out on my own or with my trainer. I'm not fond of group classes, primarily due to the scheduling, since my calendar is different each day. It makes it hard to pencil in a weekly class that meets at the same time and on the same day, when my pencil's eraser is a well-used tool, frequently finding it necessary to smudge out that class at the last minute.

But my brother teaches a TRX class at my gym every weekend. I've been saying I would attend "someday" for months, so in I went the other day to see what the buzz was all about. 

What does TRX stand for, you say? If you called out the word "torture" you would be close.(Actually it stands for Total body Resistant eXercize. Yeah, they had to stretch that a bit to make it work.) It is an acronym for a total body suspension training system. In other words, torture.You spend a lot of time hanging from the ceiling, performing familiar movements, like bicep curls, sit ups, etc in 3 dimensions.

My brother told me in a short intro before class that it would feel weird at first. Well, THAT was an understatement. It felt a LOT weird, especially when I couldn't figure out how to get my feet in the straps and then flip over without my legs twisting. No one else was having that problem. I still haven't figured it out.

It's humbling to feel so uncoordinated and generally inept. But it's empowering to keep at it and not give up. Do we have to be perfect? I gave that quest up years ago. I'll go back to that class next week, inept or not.

All we need to do is show up for life every day, no matter our age. 

What did YOU anticipate today?

We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.

Walt Disney

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/w/waltdisney132637.html#hzvO8k6iiCqCflTa.99

We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/w/waltdisney132637.html#hzvO8k6iiCqCflTa.99

Have you asked?

Only those who ask for more can get more 

and only those who know there is more, ask. 

Alan Cohen

My mind is like a room with lots of drawers. The drawers hang half open, all askew, with socks and lingerie and scarves exploding onto the floor or sneaking out like snakes slithering away into dark corners. Ideas are much like that, aren't they, as are the things we wish people would guess about us if they would only pay closer attention. They stay hidden for a while, then pop up unbidden (and often unnoticed), and are sometimes forgotten altogether. It isn't any wonder that relationships are so chaotic; how are we supposed to keep up with our own messy drawers much less someone else's? How do we get what we need in life?

Unidentified messy room to protect the innocent

Well, the short answer is that we need to ask.

I'm not a big fan of the New Year's resolutions idea. It has always seemed to be an artificial exercise, most of which is forgotten by March.....or even January 15th in some cases. But, 2013 lived up to its name, at least for me personally, what with that pesky #13 in plain view and all. Not a good vintage.

So, I took some time the other day to consider what to do about it. I could resolve to do all sorts of things (going to the gym more would NOT be one of them) to start off the new year with a more positive outlook. But I don't live in my world alone; there are lots of folks who support (and infringe upon) me.

I ended up with MY LIST OF THINGS I NEED TO BE HAPPIER IN 2014. Not accusatory at all, right? Then I divided my master list into segments by person: what I need from Person A to be  happier, Person B, etc. And, that's as far as I've gotten. (It's only January 2, after all.) I imagine I'll do some editing (to protect the innocent) and then meet with each person to ask for what I need. 

After all, how else are they supposed to know? But I also believe that the ensuing conversations  might be healthy for each relationship. They may even tell us what THEY need from US in the process and soon everybody is happier. Or we can fret and fuss about how we're being treated by Friend C, but never take the honest path to actually share how we feel to that person. What is being accomplished that way? Inevitably, bad things tend to transpire when we hide how we feel and what we think, for fear of rocking the proverbial boat. The boat will sink under its own weight, though, if we don't bail a little of that muddy water with a true heart to heart. They won't know unless we tell them what we need. Then we have to be willing to listen in return.

Of course, one of the segments is reserved for ME. What do I need to do to be happier in the new year? Many adults continue to blame their parents for a difficult childhood; or they blame their teachers for being uncaring; or their siblings for being....well, siblings. But once we hit that threshold of adulthood, we must act like adults and take responsiblity for ourselves. Yes, we need to ask for what we need and want from others, but ultimately it's up to us to take the first step, and then follow through to make the life we want.

We may get more than we ever thought possible. 

And some order just might be brought to those unkempt drawers, too.

 

We begin again.....

60 was bad. Some of you may remember that. (What I know)  It brought us all together here after all.

So,  when my friend, Paula, and I were discussing my approaching 65th birthday, she wanted to know what I had in mind to celebrate. "You must do something," she said. "It's a special one!" Of course, I'm the one who doesn't start thinking about events until the last possible second; Paula, on the other hand, plans events for a living. She won. I threw myself a party last night to celebrate,with a Retro Chinese Buffet at a local Asian restaurant. We had a great time. I'm glad she prevailed.

The point, though, is this: I was willing to acknowledge this birthday. I've settled into the decade nicely, I think.

But I have missed my monthly "thing I've never done before," after a year's hiatus. It adds a sense of anticipation and excitement that is often dulled as we age, a way to challenge ourselves just when we begin to think we've done it all. We haven't. Not by a long shot; it may take some time to come up twelve new things to do, but that's part of the mental gymnastics that go along with the actual activities.

I learned to dance, I tried a hookah lounge, tiled in my kitchen, had my palm read, and went on cruises, just to name a few of the roads I traveled when I did this before. (See more here.) Sometimes I was scared. Often I was nervous. But always I was exhilarated and I learned a lot about myself as a person, regardless of my age. I recommend it to anyone, no matter THEIR age.

I missed it last year. Not right at first; it was actually kind of a relief to not have to come up with something each month. But I realize now that it added a great deal to my life, and I'm ready to begin again. Are YOU ready?

The road ahead....

Stay tuned!

Be your biggest competitor - challenge yourself each day to 

be better than you were yesterday. Kaoru Shinmon

 

Silver bells and ugly sweaters...

Have the silver bells finally stopped ringing? Did those reindeer with the scratchy hoofnails that go "click, click, click" on the rooftops finish their rounds without falling off?

Sometimes it seems like once it all starts it will never end. But here we are on the day that is either tinged with a shade of disappointment or replete with exhaustion--or both. Um, not so fast, you remind us: we still have New Year's Eve to deal with.

Scarlett tells me that I can think about that tomorrow, so bug off.

But I'm not here to grumble and "bah humbug" your day off to a grumpy start. The holidays simply reminded me of something that has been tumbling around inside my head even before Santa visited multiple parties and millions of home to enliven our lives, to toss a bit of magic glitter onto our heads and hearts.

He tries, but is often met with reactions that belie that effort as various recipients grouse that "this isn't the color I wanted" or "I don't LIKE marshmallows on my yams" or "It's great, but I just got one last night, too!"

In other words, we have forgotten how to be gracious. We qualify, we complain, we behave with a petulance that acts like a blast of cold air on the warmth that was intended by the giver.

To be gracious means to peer past the concrete in front of us to the love or fellowship or friendship peeking out behind that ugly sweater or duplicate CD or casserole with an ingredient that isn't our favorite. To give to someone who qualifies or quantifies everything is frustrating, to say the least. The long-term result may be to abandon the effort altogether, knowing that our well-wishes won't be accepted well at all, no matter what we do.

To be gracious means to be "well-mannered, courteous, considerate, friendly." And, even though it isn't included when you cheat and visit the on-line thesaurus, here's a word I will add to the list: accepting. It means to accept that ugly sweater with a smile and a hug to acknowledge what the giver meant by handing it to you at all. Or unobtrusively moving aside the bits of bacon you hate from the casserole that was made with love for your pot luck. It means a heartfelt "thank you!" as you unwrap that CD by the artist you don't follow.

As we add maturity to our years (notice that I didn't use "get old"), we come to understand that people matter more than things do. The item they just handed us isn't the gift at all. The gift is that we are here to hold it close to our hearts and they were willing to give it.

And once we smile and offer a sincere hug to the giver, gift receipts help.

“The only gift I have to give, is the ability to receive. If giving is a gift, and it surely is, then my gift to you is to allow you to give to me. 
”

Jarod Kintz

A cause for celebration?

It's December 1st.

The day I qualify for Medicare.....

....which is a day to celebrate, right?

Some may be asking WHY I feel this way, as it simply means I am technically "OLD" in the estimation of many.

For some reason, I never thought I'd get here. Strange, because I am a very healthy person. (Just ask one of my close friends who was amazed that I hadn't had cause to see a doctor since 2009. She still tells people about her OLDER, healthy friend.)

So, here's to me: I'm now able to reap the benefits of all those deductions from my pay over the years. And I don't feel "old." Inside my head I'm still 25; actually, I'm having more fun now than I did when I was that young. I know how to enjoy myself, as well as how important it is to appreciate the small things that can add beauty and sparkle to our lives every day.

And I'm still coherent enough to figure out all the crazy Medicare paperwork to make it happen!

Cheers!

Getting older is no problem. You just have to live long enough.

Groucho Marx

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/grouchomar157471.html#uoEfsumIZvZ1vr1r.99

You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old.

George Burns

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/georgeburn103932.html#Xv5JRwu3sUHGtMet.99

You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old.

George Burns

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/georgeburn103932.html#Xv5JRwu3sUHGtMet.99

You can't help getting older, but you don't have to get old.

George Burns

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/georgeburn103932.html#Xv5JRwu3sUHGtMet.99

Wooden Dutch shoes and all things.....wrinkled

After seven days at sea on this ship with a Dutch-looking flag, the shore can't appear off my balcony on the ninth level fast enough. This is my fifth cruise in a span of three and a half years; it may be my last for a while.

Without opening myself to a libel suit, I did know that this particular cruise line catered to "older" cruisers. Meaning those WAY over my own age. (For those of you new to this page, I will qualify for Medicare in six days. I congratulated the on-board blues band for proving there were actual pulses aboard ship with mine, something I seriously doubted for the first few days aboard.)

Some other clues that I had picked the wrong cruise line this time.....

• Even if this Dutch-sounding cruise line had provided a pair of their wooden shoes to all those who came aboard, it wouldn't have slowed these people down any more than they already were. 
• The spa spent most of its time presenting seminars on taking care of your feet.
• The bar called "Chocolate Seduction" was never open, probably because no one who crawled on board could remember what that second word meant. And their doctors had told them to avoid the first one anyway. (Bad for those hearts.....)
• I didn't get splashed even once in the pool by a person younger than 80. Actually, the pool never had more than five people in it at any one time.
  

  

  A lonely pool.....

• All the "Name That Tune" games featured music from the Big Band era.
• .....and all the games were over by sunset.
• Most people were reading real books.
• The bars were populated only by a crew member wiping the already-clean bar...a lot. 

  

  A lonely buffet area....

  

  The lonely barkeep.....

  
  
• What's up with this mouth-breathing thing with older people?? Mysterious. But maybe that's why I was feeling anxious to get back to shore; all the oxygen around me was being sucked out of the air.
• The nurse automatically asked what blood thinner patients were on before passing out band aids.
• The only noise in the passageways at night came from the lonely "DING!" of an elevator.....once an hour or so. 

  

   A lonely theater....

I thought I would welcome a vacation at sea sans children and drunks. In exchange, though, I got  more gnarled feet that I ever care to see again and no activities that even smacked of a trip to the tropics. (I sadly remembered the great deck parties that started even before the ship sailed...on all those OTHER cruise lines.)

All of this is another reminder of the axiom that continues to prove itself as I age to perfection: Be careful what you wish for.

“If you didn't remember something happening, was it because it never had happened? Or because you wished it hadn't?”
― Jodi Picoult, Plain Truth

After all, tomorrow IS another day.....

Scarlett O’Hara and I are kindred souls in many ways. Oh, not in her selfishness and vanity. (OK, maybe in the vanity part….. just a little.) But, she was a stubborn, resourceful, and independent woman at a time when none of that was admired in a lady. Yes, I realize that I’m talking about a character in a book and subsequent movie, but still…….

She moved in society as easily as she faked her way into jail to visit Rhett when she needed money to save her family and their homestead. She whined, she cried, she slapped many faces (I counted how many times in the movie rendition once, but have forgotten the number now), and she haughtily uttered some very wise things.

Such as “Tomorrow is another day.”  As I’ve aged to perfection, that one has been the most valuable to me.

When we’re young, we tend to view everything that happens to us as the stuff of our very own daytime drama. Life hums with the highs and lows we all experience, and when we’re on a high, it’s a lot of fun. But when those lows hit, we often fall into a valley of personal despair from which it’s hard to see over the rock walls surrounding us. Some people are even so naive to think that THEY won’t have any serious valleys in their lives….until they do. It’s even worse, then, because it was unexpected for those folks. And sometimes we fall into so many holes, deeper and deeper each time, that we give up trying to climb out at all. We allow the darkness to envelope us and we think that is going to be our lot in life forever.

A year or so ago, I was on top of the mountain. My life was on the high end of the pendulum’s swing. I smiled a lot; I had an activity that brought me such joy that I was literally dancing through life. I was working at something I loved—writing—so my days seemed like a playground. Then the evil genie who grabs the end of the pendulum and drags it to a stop showed up. I fell off into the dirt, scraped my knees and ran home to lick my wounds.

I think the cliché is that things can change on a dime, right? But I channeled Scarlett and we had a chat. “Fiddle-de-dee,” she said. She reminded me that this little set-back wasn’t going to last forever. She was knocked down so low once that she wore curtains for a gown to seduce Rhett. But she succeeded in her quest to chase those Yankees off her land and have a real dress again. She realized something that we all embrace as we age: tomorrow IS another day. And there will be another one after that when a low may hit again, then the pendulum swings back to happy days, if we just keep hanging on to it long enough to shake that evil genie off into the mud.

The trick is to realize that when you’re young. When life seems dismal, you have to know that things will get better…… because they always do. If we all just listen to Scarlett admonish that “tomorrow is another day,” and hang on long enough for the dawn.

I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow.

Scarlett O’Hara/Gone With the Wind

Need gift ideas for the holidays?

Visit Kobo Books to pick out one of Deborah's books: 

Nothing to Complain About: My 125-Day Journey to Become Complaint Free

OR

Broken Strings: Wisdom for Divorced and Separated Families

Both are available as eBooks and Broken Strings is also available in print form.

SHOP NOW! 

Adult pacifiers.....

I left my cell phone in my car today.....on purpose....when I visited my friend at her house and then while we went to lunch in a local restaurant.

Gasp!

And it wasn't an easy decision, which explains why I'm bringing it up.

When did it happen that we all decided, no matter what our age, that we are required to be available to one another every minute of every day? This isn't just a young(er) person's compulsion; it seems to span generations, which makes it an oddity. Gen Y (and X or C or whatever the latest age group is called) does it, but so do people my age, the Boomers who are flooding the Medicare rolls. As well as my own mother, who has me by another 20+ years.....she panics if both her cell phone and her house phone are not in working order all the time. What if someone needed/wanted to get in touch with her, for heaven's sake?  There are few things that all ends of the age spectrum agree on, right? This seems to be one of them, though.


WHEN did this happen?

Or more importantly, WHY did it happen? And what happens to us because of it?

All I know is that if my cell phone gets too far away from me...say, if I forget it at home for some reason....I turn that car around and go get it, even if I was making a quick run to the grocery store for milk. Which would take about 15 minutes, max. WHY do I feel that I must be available during that time, to whomever might call me? What if it's an emergency, after all? We seem to live on the edge all the time because of this, the edge of the "what if?" precipice.


One factor, I think, is that people on the other end of that phone get testy if they can't reach you whenever THEY want to reach out and touch. Hasn't that happened to you? "Where WERE you? Why didn't you answer your phone??! Etc, etc, etc." Like I have offended them in some critical way.

I can remember when (oh, no....I can't believe I just used that phrase) the only way to contact someone was by calling them on the phone that was hooked to the wall in their house. There was no answering machine (yes, I've been around that long!), so if it rang and rang and rang, you finally just hung up and thought, "Well, I'll have to try again later." And you did. If it was an emergency, you called someone else or a cab or rescue (there also wasn't any 911 back in the olden days, either) or stumbled out into the street until someone took pity on you and helped. But it got taken care of, one way or the other. No one expected anyone to be available all the time; it wasn't possible, so the expectation just wasn't there.


I try not to get too technical here in this gathering space, but I wondered what others say about this. I found a study about this constant connectivity, as well as other technology use: Heavy Technology Use Linked to Fatigue, Stress and Depression in Young Adults showed that heavy cell phone use showed an increase in sleep disorders in men and an increase in depressive symptoms in both men and women.


These are two points that support what I believe, and have experienced myself, along with the fact that apparently those who are constantly accessible via cell phones were the most likely to report mental health issues. How many nights lately have I woken up in the wee hours and then can't go back to sleep? Or never go to sleep at all? I have cycles of this, some of which I blame on the normal aging process, but maybe some of it has to do with this obsessive connection to technology. (And yes, some folks who know me will attest to the "mental health issues" thing, I bet.)

So, to go back where I started, I left my cell in my car when I visited my friend today. Actually, it wasn't quite that simple. You figured that out, right?

I opened the door, looked at the phone before I got out, stopped, thought What if someone needs me right away?, gave myself a mental shake: NO! Leave it there! They'll leave a message or call back!", and I finally escaped without it.Victory!

When I got back in the car: no message, no calls. See? All that angst for nothing.

And do you know what? My time with my friend was stress-less, because I didn't have to worry about anything anyone laid at my feet, unasked, while I was there. No drama, no gossip, no impositions on my time.The same while we went to a restaurant to have lunch: I left my cell phone in the car, which led to a wonderful time of sharing face-to-face with my friend, something we don't get to do often enough. Got back in the car: no messages, no calls. Heaven.....

Can we all wean ourselves from these instruments of stress, old and young alike, and get rid of these pacifiers of the modern age? Let's make a deal right here: I won't expect YOU to be available to me 24/7 and you won't expect it of me, either. Now go find someone you love (or would like to love) and spend some quality time.

Leave the cell phone in the car.

 The cell phone has become the adult's transitional object, 

replacing the toddler's teddy bear for comfort and a sense of belonging.

Margaret Heffernan

The cell phone has become the adult's transitional object, replacing the toddler's teddy bear for comfort and a sense of belonging.

Margaret Heffernan

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/m/margarethe556954.html#CLbmHUG9E8Trvwkv.99

The cell phone has become the adult's transitional object, replacing the toddler's teddy bear for comfort and a sense of belonging.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/m/margarethe556954.html#CLbmHUG9E8Trvwkv.99

Do YOU think you could go 21 consecutive days without complaining? 
Take the journey with me: It only took me 125 days! 
 Nothing to Complain About: My 125-Day Journey to Become Complaint Free

The cell phone has become the adult's transitional object, replacing the toddler's teddy bear for comfort and a sense of belonging.

Margaret Heffernan

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/m/margarethe556954.html#CLbmHUG9E8Trvwkv.99

Descending the ladder......

I'm not quite sure when this happens. And maybe it's different for all of us. Most things are.

But a few years ago, I jumped off the career whirley-gig. You know the one where you care about that next move up the ladder that is particular to your profession? The one that keeps you from pointing out to the idiot in your office that he (or she; they come in both genders, but I'm only going to say it once) IS an idiot even though his ego causes him to toss around nonsensical edicts like confetti at a coronation?

When you're younger you roll your eyes, but you comply. You care about that ladder with all those steps you haven't gotten to yet. They can mean more money or prestige, after all. A better life for you and your family......right?

Let me alert you, which is why we convene here anyway. At some point, you'll get your saw out of the garage and chop that ladder right down. 

For some people, it happens gradually. You'll realize that the pull of your living room is stronger than the one that has always sucked you back into the office, even if you had already put in hours of overtime that week. You'll sneak out to attend your child's basketball game, rather than make one more excuse for missing it. You simply would rather be sitting in the sun cheering her on than you would occupying a chair in another endless meeting where egos are slithering all over the room.

You will accept that your boss or supervisor or whatever that person is called in your professional life is not a diety after all. That person does not hold the key to your happiness. It occurs to you that you're probably smarter than she is; it's simply a matter of you not being intimidated any longer. Why? Because the ladder is of no concern to you.

For some, it happens overnight. You wake up and the world has shifted on its axis as you slept; your mirror shows a different person as you brush your teeth. The thought of walking through that office and smiling at all those nonentities one more time churns your stomach.

As a writer trying to climb the ladder of acceptance, I did all the right things: I attended writers' conferences. I continued to study the craft. I started a writers' group. I smiled at agents; I even paid agents to talk to me about my work.  I wrote queries according to ridiculously detailed instructions. I submitted my work following even more detailed directives. I was lied to by a publisher. And I wrote and wrote and wrote.

I did all of this for years. I still don't have an agent. I ended up publishing my work myself: one printed book and one eBook.

I love to write. I don't need anyone's acceptance or approval to do it.

My ladder? It was hacked into pieces during this past year, and put out on the curb for garbage pickup. Where it finally belonged.

Any consideration of the life and larger social existence of the modern corporate man ... begins and also largely ends with the ef...fect of one all-embracing force. That is organization.... It is to this, at the expense of family, friends, sex, recreation and sometimes health and effective control of alcoholic intake, that he is expected to devote his energies.John Kenneth Galbraith

Are you a single parent or know a single parent? Broken Strings: Wisdom for Divorced and Single Parents is available at all online bookstores now! Save shipping by contacting the author directly......