October 2019 - Adulting: Second- Half

Candy Comes in Handy

Happy Halloween, friends!!! I remember years ago when I was just a kid, writing for the school newspaper, I decided to write about the history of Halloween. Despite all of the work that I put into the article, (this was before the internet/Wikipedia, I actually had to go to the library to research and spend daunting hours sifting through the card catalog and then, musty books) the article was a dud. Even I don’t remember what it said, or what the history of Halloween really is, because the reality of it all is, nobody cares. Holidays, like Halloween, are whatever anybody wants it to be. Little kids will not just wear their ninja and princess costumes, they will BECOME ninjas and princesses. Staunchly religious people will see Halloween as an evil holiday that serves only to worship the devil, and they will shut themselves off behind tightly closed doors and keep their lights out. Closet stage designers will use Halloween as a time to creatively turn their suburban McMansion into an even more elaborate version of Disney’s Haunted Mansion. Stressed out middle-agers will use Halloween as an excuse to blow off steam, and to eat and to drink, to all excess, hiding their stress behind goofy, all in good fun, costumes. Wiccans will likely incorporate more serious ceremony into the day.

Like all things, Halloween all comes down to the perspectives, and the projections that we put on to it, all coming from our own unique life stories and experiences and teachings. And the funny thing is, each Halloween, every year, may be a little different for each of us, depending our moods, on the age of our kids or grandkids, if we are invited to costume parties, and just our own mindset. No matter how you decide to celebrate or to not celebrate Halloween, I hope that this year’s Halloween exceeds all of our best expectations. (I know that I personally have bought some extra bags of candy this year. Even if we don’t get the big crowd of trick-or-treaters coming to our home that I am hoping for, there are no doubts that the candy will NOT go to waste.)

Partial List

A Partial List of Random Things That I Love:

Remembering something that you were looking forward to (like a book release or a TV series drop or something that you had ordered) that you had temporarily forgotten about and getting excited about it all over again.
A really, good smooth writing pen – extra bonus if it was a free pen given away at a really cool place or at a memorable event.
A really thick, intriguing looking magazine.
Unscheduled days full of whimsy.
Serendipity.
Stories told by little kids, and watching their minds and imaginations churning, as they continue to embellish their stories.
Witnessing random acts of kindness.
Feeling the sweet relaxation of total surrender.
Hitting every green light.
My dog, Josie, “helping” me make my bed.
Twix bars.
The magic, transformative power of sunglasses. (you get a different attitude with every pair, trust me on this)
Total trust in your hair stylist.
Trick-or-treaters, particularly the ones who really take their costume to a whole new level and “become” the character they are dressed up to be.
Rain cancellations that you were secretly hoping for.
Laugh lines next to kind eyes.
The rare nights that all six members of my family are sleeping peacefully under one roof.
Almost all Italian food.
Feeling like my digestive system is actually working efficiently and correctly.
People who take their jobs seriously.
People who dare to start new things, like clubs and companies and events.
Guest stars on Saturday Night Live who really give it “their all.”

These are just a few things to came to my mind in less than ten minutes. I dare you to do your own list today. You’ll be amazed at every little thing that holds meaning and happiness for you! Maybe if we were required to come up with one of these love lists with every to-do list that we write, the stuff on the to-do list wouldn’t seem so daunting or banal or meaningless. The love list is more fun to come up with, that’s for sure.

“There are three kinds of people in this world: 1) People who make lists, 2) People who don’t make lists, and 3) People who carve tiny Nativity scenes out of pecan hulls. I’m sorry, there isn’t really a third category; it’s just that a workable list needs a minimum of three items, I feel.” – Mary Roach

My Favorite Story

Dear Children,

I want to tell you a story. I think that you may have heard variations of this story before, but it’s a good story. It’s worth hearing again. Once upon a time, about thirty years ago, an eighteen-year-old girl met a twenty-year-old boy, up on a hill, on the girl’s first weekend, away at college. The attraction between the boy and the girl was instant. There was a fiery pull towards each other from the very start. The relationship was young, so of course, it had its fair share of dramas and petty break-ups and make-ups, as many young relationships, made up of passionate, stubborn, youthful people, often do. But somehow, the Universe knew what it was doing, and it did its part to keep the magnetic pull between these two people, a stronger force than any other kind of force that would ever try to keep them apart. Twenty-five years ago, on this very day, these two young people got married and started out on what would become an amazing shared life adventure, one like they could never have imagined.

Marriages are a co-creation of life with Life. This marriage had many co-creations: the marriage relationship itself, four incredible children, adventures in moving and exploring and vacationing, shared extended family, shared friendships, cozy homes and gardens, shared pets, shared championing of and patience for, each other’s individual personal growth, shared adversity and painful moments, and shared triumphs and glories. That is what marriage is, shared Life. I think what made this particular union so successful and loving for all of these years, was that the boy and the girl (now a man and a woman) understood the most important part of that sharing, that part being a shared devotion and appreciation and understanding of each other’s sacrifices and commitments that make the union a strong, powerful force to be reckoned with. This union is a safe haven for them and for their children, to always be able to come home to, and to rest and to renew in its kind, empowering nourishment. Nothing was more important to the man or to the woman than what they had created together. They understood that about each other and thus, the man and the woman both felt fiercely loved and treasured and honored and cared for, and there is no better feeling in the world, than that feeling. It is everything that these two lovers want for their children and their grandchildren and for the generations to follow them.

This story is still playing out, but I think the moral of the story will remain the same. Believe in love. Live love as an action. Be in awestruck gratitude when you find someone who is willing to give to you every part of their very self, for the rest of their lives. Know that there is no greater gift that they could give to you. Honor and respect and reciprocate that gift. The gift of Love grows and grows when it is nurtured, and that blooming of Love is where the greatest treasure, out of all of Life’s wonderful treasures, is truly found.

I hope that you enjoyed this story, my dear loves. I know that it is my favorite story of all time and for all of eternity.

Lessons from the New Car

Sometimes I think that I read into everything maybe a little too much. I am always looking for the story, the meaning, the lesson, etc. behind everything that happens in life. I preach to myself and to others about letting life just happen, to just experience life, to let it be, etc., but that all is easier said than done. For instance, I got a new car over the weekend and I absolutely love it, but once again, my mind started garnering lessons for me to glean from the experience of driving and taking care of the new car.

I find myself wanting to keep my new car in pristine condition. When I turned in my old car to the dealership, it was clear that a lot of life had happened in that car. It was decidedly NOT in pristine condition. Not even close. But at one time my old car had been new to me and at one time, I had wanted to keep that car in immaculate condition. I had once felt about the old car what I feel about my new car right now.

So here’s where “the lesson” comes in for me. Why do we get so excited about the novel, brand new, untouched things in our lives, but start quickly taking the other things for granted? It’s not just the material things that we do this with, either. We are careful and kind and excited when we start new jobs, or get new pets or start new relationships with people and clubs. We want to be at our best in these new situations, putting our best foot forward, wanting to impress and show our “worthiness”, but after a while, the freshness wears off, and our laser focus stars honing in on all of the negativity and the things that we don’t like. The new situation isn’t “special” anymore and it is just another thing in life that we have to take care of and maintain, often with a tinge of chagrin and agitation and sometimes even, disrespect and carelessness.

I even thought about this concept in the context of my body. At almost 49 years of age, I have had many life cycles in this body. My body has helped me to bring forth four people into this world. It has allowed me to walk miles and miles through places and adventures that have made my life so interesting and expansive. My body has allowed me to share a deep physical and spiritual intimacy with my husband, showing me what true ecstasy is all about. And I have had many cycles of taking good care of my body until I have given way to excesses or laziness, only to get frustrated that my body isn’t allowing me to do what I want to do, or not looking the way that I want it to look, despite my lack of care or concern for it.

So, I have decided that while I am focused on wanting to keep my new car as immaculate as possible, I think that I will extend this spotlight on to other areas of my life that probably could use my attention and my care and my excitement and my gratefulness. I think that I will direct some of this targeted care to things that are perhaps a tad bit more important and likely to stay with me, much longer than my current new car will ever be with me. My overactive mind, always seeking the lesson, might be something that deserves my appreciation right now. My mind is making me see everything in my life, in a whole, new, fresh light – not just the car.

My Gallant Ride

Good-bye my sweet, precious, white pony. Thank you for all of the rides. The wonderful freeing rides, with the wind whipping at my face, my hair flying in all different directions, like flames flickering from my very alive and flowing mind. Thank you for making me feel very vibrant and free, at a time when I was at one of my lowest times – a time when I had been brought down to my knees and was building myself back up from the smoldering ashes of what had once been, my former life. Thank you for helping me to stoke that flicker of rebelliousness, carefree-ness, and vitality into an alive, glowing flame, inside of me again, reminding me that it is actually quite fun and interesting and daring, to be me. You have my gratitude for letting me take my moods out on you. You diffused my anger and frustration, like nothing else could, when I dared you to take whipping turns and change your regular gait to high speeds, in seconds flat. You allowed for my tears, when I took long, solemn rides, to calm my sad heart, when I was feeling down and uneven. Thank you for all of the safe travels on the often untraveled, mysterious roads going to destinations, both unknown and sometimes far away. I will always be grateful for the attention that you helped me to garner, at a time when I was feeling bland and anonymous and small. Thank you for helping me to dare to dream again. Thank you for patiently letting me ride you, slowly and hesitantly, on the bumpy road back to a big part of myself, which is now healthfully growing strong and proud and spirited. I will never forget what you did for me. Safe travels on your next journey, my sweet, little, precious white convertible. You did you job so very well!

Safe or Alive

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“Be the same person privately, publically, and personally.” – Wise Words (Twitter)

From an interview with Ryan Seacrest, Selena Gomez discusses her new album which was written at a time when she was processing a painful break-up and health issues in her personal life:

“It’s all very real to me and I’m sure it’s just entertainment for other people; but I think I had become numb to it and it would be stupid of me if I didn’t acknowledge what I had felt because it would be inauthentic and that’s everything I claim to be and do. … I know there are thousands of people … who have felt this feeling and it’s extremely real, and on top of the social media and everything, it doesn’t matter if you’re in my position or someone else’s because you’re always going to somehow find this negative space and that’s why I have to be careful and I just have to take steps back and just focus on what I’m doing and nobody else.”

In art, in entertainment, in books, and in life, people respond most to those who can bravely bare their souls. We all resonate with those who are most authentic, most present, and yet sadly, it is such a fearsome thing to do – to put our own raw, real, vulnerable selves out there. It’s one of life’s greatest ironies, I think.

Keeping It Casual

Meredith’s Casual Friday Outfit

Happy Friday! Happy Favorite Things Friday!!! New readers, I don’t get deep and reflective on Fridays. On Fridays, I keep it light and airy and I typically list about three favorite things, songs, books, websites, ideas, etc. that keep my life humming. I ask you to list your favorites in the Comments sections, because favorites are fun!! Fridays are fun!!! Please see previous Friday posts for more favorites. Here are today’s favorites:

Dove Lavender and Coconut Milk Whipped Body Cream – This product is one of Allure Magazine’s Beauty Best Buys. The way to my heart is through my smeller. (“The nose . . . it always knows.” – Toucan Sam) This concoction is amazingly good smelling and very emollient, which is key because I hate to break it to you, but Winter is Coming!

Bath and Body Works Brown Sugar & Fig Fine Fragrance Mist – Someone told me that fig perfume is very alluring. Despite having a shelf full of perfume, I couldn’t resist just one more. I started out cheap and figured that I could work my way up. Well, I don’t have to because the first day that I wore this scent, I received a compliment on it. Cha-ching! This is a lovely, light, fall feeling scent and it won’t break the bank.

CurlyGirlDesign.com – These cocktail napkins are one of the many products available on this wonderful, inspiring, fun and empowering gift boutique website. My book club friend gifted me these napkins, perhaps a decade ago and I have never used them, because I love them so much. It means so much to me that she “knew my heart.” When you give one of your friends a gift from this website, she will feel the same connection and care.

We’ll Be Okay

Driving my daughter to school this morning, Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World” came on and she and I sang it, at the top of our lungs. It felt so good. It felt so simple. It felt so right. I said to her, “I don’t know what to write about in my blog this morning, so I think that I’ll just write out the lyrics to this song.” She looked puzzled and said, “That’s it?” Like it was a cop-out. Because it kind of is.

It is a wonderful world, but it is also sometimes a painful world. It is a wonderful world, but it also sometimes a confusing world. It is a wonderful world, but it is often a complicated world and not as simple as we would like it to be.

I just binge-watched Amazon Prime’s Fleabag, both seasons, these last two days. There is a lot there to digest. The writing is superb. If you can take off your moralistic, judgment cap and get past some of the overt sexuality of the show (if you want to), there are parts of Fleabag that you will rewind and watch again and again, until the deeper meaning and feelings sink in, get under your skin and have you itching, yet fearful, to get to the source of wherever you have been touched. (there are also hilarious parts that will have you laughing until you cry, and they are fun to watch again and again, too)

There is one scene (spoiler alert) in Season 2, where Kristin Scott Thomas’ character Belinda is discussing her “Best Woman in Business” award. This is how she describes menopause:

“I’ve been longing to say this out loud. Women are born with pain built in. It’s our physical destiny – period pains, sore boobs, childbirth. We carry it within ourselves throughout our lives. Men don’t. They have to seek it out. They invent all these gods and demons so they can feel guilty about things, which is something we do very well on our own. And then they create wars so they can feel things and touch each other and when there aren’t any wars they can play rugby. We have it all going on in here, inside. We have pain on a cycle for years and years and years, and then just when you feel you are making peace with it all, what happens? The menopause comes. The fucking menopause comes and it is the most wonderful fucking thing in the world. Yes, your entire pelvic floor crumbles and you get fucking hot and no one cares, but then you’re free. No longer a slave, no longer a machine with parts. You’re just a person. In business.”

It’s a lot to be a woman. It’s wonderful. It’s also sometimes painful, confusing and complicated. When other women can put into words what the rest of us experience, I find that connection awe-striking and overwhelming. It’s one of my favorite experiences that I sometimes get with other women – that “thank you for understanding me and knowing me and feeling me, and hearing me, and making me feel less alone” in this wonderful, wonderful, world.

“And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.” – Louis Armstrong

“Come on! Buck up! Smiles! Charm! Off we go! We’ll be okay.” – Fleabag

The Little Things

So yesterday, I walked along the side of my house (which is something that I rarely do). My next door neighbor’s older relative was splashing around in their pool.

“I just couldn’t resist this fabulousness!” she said with a wide, wide grin on her lovely face.

I pondered on the fact that I can’t remember the last time that I have swum in our own pool. Not everyone has the ability to swim outside in late October and sadly, I have long lost sight of that fact. It was interesting to me that it was our neighbor’s relative who was swimming. Our neighbors, like us, are from the North and I remember when they first moved here, they swam all of the time, day and night. It reminded me of when we first moved to Florida. The novelty of having a pool in your own backyard that could be used year round, was such a joy! Such an amazement! Then the exciting novelty wore off, for all of us, except for our Labrador retriever.

When I took the dogs out the other day, as part of our regular routine, my Collie, laid down in the grass, firmly and stubbornly. She kept her long, regal nose up in the air, just daring me to tell her to come in. I acquiesced. I sat down beside her and before long, I had buried my own nose into her warm, beautiful, sweet-smelling, sun-baked fur. It was one of my favorite moments of the week, so far.

My friend texted pictures of the beautiful autumn leaves at a waterfall site outside of a small town in Georgia, where she is visiting. They were beautiful pictures. I miss experiencing the gorgeous changing leaves of fall, yet when I lived up North, I think I grumbled more about raking the leaves, then savoring the awe-striking colors. I think that I may have taken the Northern autumns for granted sometimes.

There is so much to savor in every day, that we sometimes take so much for granted. Sometimes, we don’t miss a lot of these simple joys, until they are gone, I suppose.

I met with one of the girls who I mentor, yesterday. She was talking about visiting her family’s lovely farm in Columbia, a while ago. She talked about the gorgeous, stately horses and the dogs of many sizes and colors, and the orange juice drinking chickens. She talked on and on, with a sparkle in her eyes and excitement in her voice. She talked about picking vividly colored guavas from the trees and how amazing that they tasted. She has never had better juice, than the guava juice they made from those trees.

“When will you go back?” I asked her.

“I can’t. They sold the farm for money and they now live in a small apartment in the city.” She and I agreed that she had been so lucky to experience visiting the farm before they sold it. We agreed that memories stay with us forever, and that she was so smart to savor her moments, delighting in the farm experience.

“Most human beings have an almost infinite capacity for taking things for granted.” – Aldous Huxley

It Was Just a Dream

Two of my children had terrible dreams about me recently, within days of one another, one about the mangling of my limbs and the other one, my unfortunate demise. And my children shared their dreams with me, in vivid detail. I have always championed open, authentic, vulnerable communication within our family. I do not care to have distant, facade-y relationships with the people who I love more than life itself. Still, this is information that took my breath away and made me question whether “at arm’s length” relationships are, perhaps, the safer way to go in life. The nightmare-shares also had me running to Google (as fast as my legs could carry me), trying to find a positive dream translation/slant that resonated enough with me, in order to still my quickened, strongly, beating heart. (Omg! The dreams were a premonition. Heart attack. So this is how it ends . . . )

Actually, I am obviously still alive. And my heart did slow down as I pieced together some dream translations, both from on-line sources and my own innate in-soul sources, and I decided (I’m a good self soother, even if it takes a dose of delusion) that I had figured out why these terrible dreams had come into being. Both of my dreamers, are on the cusp of particularly big, life changes. My son is embarking on the upcoming daunting task of taking the MCAT and applying to medical schools. My daughter is getting more and more proficient at driving as she gets closer and closer to the date when she can take her driving test and earn her driver’s license. My babies are taking larger steps than their usual smaller steps towards more independence and freedom away from our once seemingly unyielding, impenetrable family unit. They have witnessed their other siblings rolling off into their own directions, as well, loosening up our family’s tightly bound ball of string into a more spread, slackened, loosened pile of twine. Further, I think that my children can sense my own loosening, and my allowing for the opening and spreading of wings, for them and for me. My children may sense my own searching for neglected parts of myself. (My husband questioned this part of the dream translation until I reminded him that these children grew in my body – the intimacy that pregnancy creates often allows mothers and children to communicate without words, sometimes for the rest of our lives.) And while all of this unbinding is needed for our each of our own individual growths, and while that doesn’t, at all, mean that we won’t always be deeply connected in some shape or form, the fears of the unknown creep in. And if we don’t face the fears consciously, they show up in our dreams.

In the end, however, some things never change. In my best calming, comforting tones, I reminded my children that everything is alright. I will always Love them, for all of eternity, no matter what. And my darlings, “It was just a dream.”