Blog - Page 128 of 232 - Adulting: Second- Half

M. and B.

The other night we attended a large graduation party for one of my daughter’s tennis team members. The party was held in a big banquet hall, and it was the size of a medium wedding reception. We knew the graduate, my daughter, a few of my daughter’s friends, the graduate’s parents and one other mother attending. That’s it. In a hall of at least a hundred people, we knew about eight of them, and four of those people who we knew were kids who, understandably, had no interest whatsoever, in hanging out with parents. We had been having work done on our house that day, so in waiting for the workers to finish up for the day, my husband and I ended up arriving to the party, a little later than most. Our daughter was already ensconced in some corner tables with a bunch of her friends, and was fully engaged with talking and laughing with them. The graduate and her parents were being excellent hosts, going from table to table, talking to everyone. I nodded “hello” to the one other mother who I knew at the party, who was sitting at a table, with all of the seats already taken. I could feel a little social anxiety creeping into my gut, especially with being so out of practice, from dealing with the pandemic shutdown, for over a year.

But then, my eyes glommed on to the buffet tables, which were overflowing with incredible delicacies (all handmade by the graduate’s mother). The graduate’s mom is Italian, and so it naturally follows that she is an amazing cook. It’s just in their genes. I have never had an Italian friend who wasn’t an incredible chef. I don’t mean to stereotype, but this has been my divine experience, and I have my fair share of Italian friends. Seeing the delightful spread, I got over my sinking feeling of not knowing anybody, and I got right to the task of filling up my plate, as high as it could go. My husband followed suit.

With my mountainous, overfilled plate, I started scanning my seating options. What appeared was several full tables of people laughing, and enjoying each other’s familiar company. There were also two empty tables, which I started to make a beeline towards, but then the table with M. and B. appeared. M. and B. (keeping their names private), were two older ladies sitting by themselves at a table, quietly eating their food. To get to the empty tables, I would have had to walk right past M. and B.’s table, but my arm was getting heavy with my food (and my husband was at the buffet, still filling up his plate), and plus, my mama taught me good manners. “Are these seats taken?” I asked M. and B politely, with a frozen smile on my face. “Oh no, please take a seat!” they both exclaimed.

Okay, this is the part of the story in which I admit that I am an ASS. As the saying goes, “When you assume, you make an ASS out of U and ME.” I had already made a bunch of assumptions. I assumed M. and B. were elderly family members. (wrong, they were neighbors of the graduate and her family) I then assumed M. and B. were a lesbian couple. (wrong again, they lived on either side of the graduate’s family and they were both widows. They did get a charge out of the question, though. M. looked at B. with her eyebrow raised and said, “Well, I never considered that before . . . ” B. just laughed) The biggest assumption which I had made is that I was going to be bored to tears, making polite, careful conversation with two senior citizens. Ha! M. and B. were a blast! They were interesting, inspiring, witty, edgy, and funny as hell. They teased and flirted with my husband, who teased and flirted right back. Before long, we had become “the raucous table”. I wasn’t even getting to gorging on my delicious food, because I was having so much fun. We were creating so much merriment, that the other mother, who we knew, noticed, grabbed her purse, and excused herself from her own table (full of boring, dull people of our own age, according to her) and joined and added to the merriment. I was sick when M. and B. said it was time for them to leave. We were having such a good time.

It turns out that M. was 83 and B. was 79. We were all shocked. Besides the teens, M. and B. were the most lively, fun-loving, vivacious people at the party. (on an aside, shocked to learn their ages, my friend asked them what creams they used on their faces. “Oh you know, that stuff in a red jar,” M. said, which I assume is Olay and I am not surprised.)

Whenever I start into a new decade (I turned fifty last December), I find myself looking at the generations older than me. I am goal oriented. I like to look ahead to be inspired to be who and what I want to be, when I become of the next age subset. When I am in my eighties, I want to be young. I want to be lighthearted. I want to get a kick out of living, no matter what I am doing. I want to be M. and B. I want to pleasantly surprise the hell out of a fifty-year-old woman, who almost walked right past me, full of her dumb assumptions. And I want to have good skin, so I am going to run out to Walgreens, after I post this, and get some Olay.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

In the Beginning

13 Uplifting Quotes About New Beginnings

I love new beginnings. Today feels so fresh and new. It is the first day of the month, and the first day of summer (in a calendar sense). Over the weekend, we did things like going to see a movie (at a theater!) and we ate at a couple of restaurants (inside, no masks). It feels so good to get reacquainted with “normal life” again. It is, perhaps, a hidden blessing which the pandemic brought to us. We get to experience all of our old stuff, like it is new, with a more wide-eyed and open-hearted appreciation for everything that before, at times, seemed dull and routine.

I am watching the latest Naomi Osaka story with a keen interest. I am trying to stay detached from having any strong opinions about the story. Naomi Osaka, a Japanese tennis player, is one of the best tennis players ever to play the game. She withdrew from the French Open, after she experienced quite a lot of pressure and fines and criticism, for choosing not to speak to the French media, which is considered an obligation of the players. (Sports is a big business, after all – as is, just about everything) Osaka cites being an introvert and suffering from depression, as her reasons for not wanting to speak with the press. She is putting the priority on her mental health, by choosing to withdraw from the French Open.

My daughter is a competitive tennis player. She has a lot natural talent and athleticism and she could have chosen to take her tennis experience to much higher level, if that was her goal. In sports, having the raw talent is a necessary component, but to really succeed at the highest levels, it requires a single-minded devotion to the sport. It takes a focus and a passion, that makes all decisions about anything in your life, always to be hinging on the highest and utmost priority of succeeding at your sport. (what to eat, when to sleep, how to fit in your schooling, spending money on trainers, conducting your relationships etc. etc.) It can often lead to a one-dimensional life. It is not for the faint of heart.

I’m 50, so I have, quite frankly, laughed at “the snowflake” jokes and the memes that say that our younger generations are “soft.” Each older generation thinks that we are so much “tougher” and wiser and more resilient than the generations that come after us. And that may be true, in some regards. We older people have a lot more experiences in life, under our belts, and the old adage, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger”, often rings true. However, in my life’s experience, my strongest, bravest moments rarely came from “toughing out” something miserable. It did take bravery to hold on through negative, painful experiences, but it took even more bravery, to ask for help. The moments that I had to muster up my greatest courage, usually were the moments when I said to myself and to others, “I can’t endure this any longer. I don’t want to feel this misery anymore. I must be true to myself.” My bravest moments were times when I “bucked the system”, because the system no longer rang true to me – to the deepest part of myself. My most heroic moments in my life’s experience, have come from the times when I no longer cared what other people thought (sometimes masses of people), and I stayed clear on what was truly important to me. It takes a hell of a lot of gumption to be true to yourself. It is not for the faint of heart.

I have a deep sense that we are at a “new beginnings” stage in so many factions of our lives. There is a lot more vibrant re-considering of the status quo, going on, and perhaps because of social media, and so many more public news outlets, this questioning is being brazenly played out, on a world stage. In the case of Naomi Osaka, what some may see as a weak moment, may well be the most defining, brave moment of her life. It may be the most inspiring thing which she has ever done for herself, and for her fans. As I said in my opening sentence, “I love new beginnings.” I have learned to embrace them. New beginnings happen all of the time, every moment of every day. And they are good. They are what leads to a brave, new world.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

We Will Not Let You Down

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you to any of you who are veterans, family of veterans, and to any of you who have lost family members who were serving our nation. We are indebted to you.

My family is chockful of veterans and I am extremely proud of that fact. My father and my father-in-law (who is deceased) are veterans. None of my family members, who are veterans, had to pay the ultimate price for their service to our country, and I am exceedingly grateful for that fact. But, they were all willing to pay the price. They all believed that our great nation, and its ideals of freedom and liberty, is worthy of protecting and preserving, even if it meant their untimely deaths.

I was watching a comedian this weekend, and he talked about the fact that if you ever have to question about how diverse the United States is, compared to any other country in the world, just watch the Olympics opening parades. Who has a more diverse team than us? Sweden? Japan? China? Nigeria? Jordan? Bolivia? The United States is the ultimate test room. We are trying the grand experiment of a democracy that our forefathers carefully laid out. I am sure that our forefathers were mocked. I am sure that their ideas were considered too idealistic and utopian.

No nation is perfect. No country does everything right. The preamble to our Constitution, starts with this:

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, . . . . “

Are we doing our best, individually and wholly, to form “a more perfect union”? It doesn’t say “perfect”, because that’s not possible, but it does make its first sentence about aiming to be “more perfect”. Our Constitution’s starting sentence talks about justice, tranquility, common defense, general welfare, and the blessings of liberty. Are we doing our parts, individually and as a whole, to promote these sacred qualities for each and every one of our citizens? Service people have died for almost 250 years, to make sure that our citizens are provided these ideals which are set out in our Constitution. Are we truly doing our best to aim towards “a more perfect union”? Can we look a mother in the face who has lost her child in combat, and say that we are doing our best to be the great nation which we are intended to be? Can we look a child in the face, who will never grow up with a beloved parent because that parent died in defense of the United States, and honestly feel that we are fully putting forth our highest efforts to be the essence of what the United States is intended to be?

I think that these are questions that must be pondered on Memorial Day, and every day. What can we the people do, as a group and as individuals, to help form a more perfect union? What can we all do to make sure that all of our citizens receive justice, tranquility, common defense, general welfare and the blessings of freedom? What can we do to make sure that we deserve the many, many lives that have been lost, in order to preserve our country and its highest ideals, which it was founded upon? Instead of divisive finger pointing and righteous obstinacy, we need to face our challenges full on, together, using our rich, diverse heritage, as a mighty power and a formidable strength. We need to have one aim: to form a more perfect union. We must do this. We cannot let our fallen soldiers’ deaths be in vain.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning, soul mates. I hope that you all are having a lovely, restful yet rejuvenating holiday weekend. Welcome to summer! My regular readers know that Sundays are devoted to poetry. Poetry is much like the “summer” of language. It is slow and contemplative and full and sometimes heavy, meandering and inquisitive, full of background humming. On Sundays, I either write a poem or I share a poem, written by someone else, which has moved me. And also on Sundays, I implore you to write a poem, as well. Please feel safe and comfortable enough to share your poem in my Comments section. Today’s poem is a classic, popular poem by a poet named Marge Piercy. It speaks of the first days of summer.

MORE THAN ENOUGH by Marge Piercy

The first lily of June opens its red mouth.
All over the sand road where we walk
multiflora rose climbs trees cascading
white or pink blossoms, simple, intense
the scene drifting like colored mist.

The arrowhead is spreading its creamy
clumps of flower and the blackberries
are blooming in the thickets. Season of
joy for the bee. The green will never
again be so green, so purely and lushly

new, grass lifting its wheaty seedheads
into the wind. Rich fresh wine
of June, we stagger into you smeared
with pollen, overcome as the turtle
laying her eggs in roadside sand.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Quills and Spikes

I came across these Coyote Vests in my morning readings, and I think that they are wonderful! We live in an area where it is not unusual for small dogs to be mauled, and killed by a whole bevy of creatures such as alligators, coyotes and even hawks. These vests are an attempt to make adorable dogs look formidable. Still, I think that there are certain dogs that are just made even cuter by any embellishment that you put on to them. (Who doesn’t get an emotional lift from seeing a Dachshund in a hot dog Halloween costume?) You can’t erase “adorable” with quills, and spikes, and evil eyes. Still, these vests may at least give the pups a “not worth the effort” kind of a look. We can relate when we think about how often we avoid ordering crabs or crawfish to eat at a restaurant, even if we love shellfish. You have to be focused, famished, bibbed and full of stamina, to get your money’s worth, from a lobster dinner.

I won’t be ordering these vests for our three dogs, ranging in size from 40 pounds, to 90 pounds. When the daily wrestle mania event occurs with our canines, I can only imagine that scene, with neon colored quills and sharp spikes and evil eyes, added to the mix. I imagine that my couch might end up looking like an abstract Picasso painting, after the mashup, with the eyes staring up at me with an “I told you so” look, coming straight from the mess of it all. I like to think that my dogs have size on their side, when it comes to any predators, plus they are all separation-anxiety ridden, Velcro dogs. If I stay away from gators and things that go bump in the night, so do they.

I was thinking that I might like to have one of these Coyote Vests for myself, on days when I am feeling vulnerable, raw and exposed. The vests do have a way of saying, “Back off, Bozo!” without using any words. “Step off, stupid, lest you want a hot pink quill in your eye!” Maybe, if I keep checking the website, they’ll eventually have one in my size.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Lil’ Friday

Hello Friday!!! Hello Holiday Weekend!! Fridays are the best, aren’t they? They are just so full of anticipation and relief. On Fridays, I don’t go for the deep dive. On “Favorite Things Friday“, I list three favorite songs, books, TV shows, websites, beauty products, etc. that remind me why it is so much fun to be alive. What is the material “stuff” that you love in life? Please add your favorites to my Comments section, and please check out previous Friday postings, for more good stuff. Here are my favorites for today:

Better Call Saul – If you missed this spinoff/prequel to the TV series Breaking Bad, like my husband and I almost did, this is your lucky reminder to check this series out. It has become our new nightly, couch event. This show is excellent and is full of flawed, but interesting, colorful characters who you can’t help, but to love and to root for, despite all of their shortcomings. Better Call Saul is so good, that last night we were attending a really fun, joyous graduation party, and yet, in the back of my mind, I was hoping that we would get home in time to watch another episode. We did. 🙂

Embellish Creative Co-op Tote Bag – I recently purchased this tote bag at a little local shop, because it was adorable, reasonably priced, large, soft and smooshy, and looked easy to clean. It appears to be made out of a bath rug, with a tassel for flourish. It is the best bag for boating, or for the beach, or for other fun summer activities. It came in a variety colors. I went with boring, blah taupe and I love it. Which brings me to my next favorite . . . my next favorite is a fun prompt to just put out there, when you are hanging out with your friends this weekend. You may remember my blog with the prompt “Your Drag Queen name is your Grandmother’s first name and the last dessert/sweet you ate. Go.” That was a good one. Here’s the new prompt for today’s shenanigans:

“Your Rapper Name is “Lil” then the last thing you spent money on. Go.” – It so happens that I purchased the above mentioned bag right before I saw this thought provoking prompt, hence my rapper name is officially “Lil’ Beach Bag.” I tried this prompt with my best friends from college and here are some of their rapper names:

Lil’ Biscuit, Lil’ Cookie, Lil’ Books (this rapper friend said that the books were for her daughter, Lil’ Money Pit), Lil’ Hula Hoop (she has much better hips and dancing skills than I could ever dream of having), and Lil’ Shorts (who we changed to Lil’ Shorty, even though she is taller than any of us)

What’s your rapper name? This is an important question, on a Friday.

The shop that I purchased my beach bag from, had this sign in the window:

Apparently this comes from the title of a book by the actress, Reese Witherspoon, which came from a phrase her grandmother used to describe Southern women: “her grandmother used to describe Southern women: Like whiskey in a teacup, they’re beautiful on the outside and fierce on the inside.” I suppose this is another phrase for “Steel Magnolias”. Frankly, I think that this phrase describes most women, whom I have known, and whom I have loved in my life, from all over the United States, and the world. Embellish the outside of yourself however you like, ladies, but remember, the inside of you is FIRE. Have a wonderful weekend!!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

I Know

15 Inspirational Book Quotes We Loved in 2017 | Scholastic | Parents | Quotes from childrens books, Inspirational quotes from books, Children book quotes

I was sad to read that Eric Carle, the author of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, passed yesterday, at the age of 91. What a lovely man! What lasting gifts he has given to so many of generations of kids! (including my generation, and my kids’ generation, and likely my future grandchildren’s and great-grandchildren’s generations, to boot!)

Last night, I was having dinner with some friends and one friend was relating about how maturely her twenty-something daughter was handling a drama with her friends. We all marveled at how wise her daughter seems to be, at such a young age. We all talked about what life lessons that we wished we had figured out earlier, and really let sink in, when we were in our early adulthoods, such as: “Whatever anyone thinks about me, is none of my business.”, and “Expectations are the root of all heartache. – William Shakespeare”, and knowing that the saying, “This too shall pass”, is really, really the honest truth, and a hope to hang on to, going through any kind of negative ordeal. (All of us have just experienced this, first hand, with the pandemic, starting to finally be seen from the rearview mirror.)

It is interesting to be 50, and to still be learning a lot of life’s lessons. Life is one long learning process. The classroom never ends. I think a big paradox happens as you age. The very few things that I Know, the things that resonate in the deepest part of my soul, I Know (capital K is on purpose) with a more confident absoluteness, than I ever did before, but at the same time, I am in a constant state of “unlearning” so much that I thought I was so sure of before. I am sure there is a lot more of that “unlearning” lesson to come for me. And this “unraveling of truths” lesson seems to come at an advanced pace, the older that I get. Maybe if I reach a ripe old age, some more of my “I Knows” will turn into “Oops, looks like I was wrong about that one, too.”

My middle son is headed to his first year of medical school later this summer. At dinner the other night, he was telling my husband and I, that he’s been reflecting on the different personas which he has had, already, in his young life: Soccer Dude in high school, Frat Boy in college, now moving on to Budding Doctor Guy. During the conversation, I said that I don’t think it is so much that we change into different identities, as much as we integrate all of the experiences and wisdom that we’ve collected along the way, as we morph into new roles. At the same time, there comes to a stage in life (and I think it is primarily, in this second half of adulting) where we start shedding a lot of those “roles” or “titles” and we start peeling away at the onion of people and places and experiences and beliefs, which have created “us” and our lives, to go searching for what’s really there, in that simpler core. I think if we all stripped away all the layers, and all of the lessons, and all of the perceptions, and all of the experiences, and all of the calculations, and all of the complications, and all of the emotions, and all of the experiments, I think that we’d find the same thing at the core of all that is . . . love, just love. One day, I think that I will Know (with a capital K), that it’s only love that is at the core of everything. Simply, love.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

New feature – THROWBACK THURSDAY

I’ve decided to highlight some of my older, more popular posts, since I have been writing this blog, daily, for almost three years now. Here’s today’s Throwback post:

Letting Myself Be Lived

Bags of It

Think Smarter (Twitter) got it right, once again, with the above meme. (damn that Think Smarter, thinks smart!) It is human nature to always be desiring the next best thing. Desire is what keeps us reaching into the realms of possibility, and what helps us to create the marvels of the future. But strong desire and tenacious striving, is best helped along, with a healthy dose of humble gratefulness. As I sit at this large, heavy, L-shaped desk in my writing nook, I remember holding my breath, hoping beyond hope that the movers could make the desk fit into the corner of my living room, so that I could see out of two sets of massive windows, as I do my work. Miraculously, they were able to do it, with only about a half a centimeter to spare. (They really wanted it to work for me. I’ll never forget their kindness and effort. Never. Most often, I experience this kind of earnestness from “the everyman”. I feel sad for people who keep themselves cloistered away from people who aren’t “just like themselves.” They miss out on experiencing some of the most beautiful souls on Earth.) I am sitting at this desk, in a lovely home, which we were renting at first, before deciding that we really wanted to buy it. We had fallen in love with our views from the windows, and the nature surrounding us, and frankly, we really didn’t want to have to move again. I remember praying that we could strike a fair deal with our landlords, to buy it. We did. As my four children, started into the final sprint into their adulthoods (the last lap is always the fastest . . . . sigh), I prayed for a creative outlet to help me to fill the hole and make me feel more complete again. I was lead to start this blog. Thank you, sturdy desk, for fitting in and creating my writing corner. Thank you, nurturing home, for finding a way to become ours, during this transitional stage in our lives. Thank you, Powers That Be, for finding me the right outlet for the words that swim in and around my mind, day and night. Thank you for answering my prayers that lead me into my purpose(s), in this life. Thank you, also, for the unanswered prayers, that saved me from myself. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Yesterday, I read a cute article about an adorable and rare black leopard cub, that was born recently in an English Big Cat Sanctuary. They were asking the public to help name her. My favorite name in the running was “Inka.” I loved how the keepers described the baby leopard. In their particular British way, they said that the cub has “bags of attitude.” I’ve reached the age, where anything with “bags of attitude”, secretly delights me. My kids aren’t little sassy children, nor ornery tweens any longer, so “bags of attitude” is charming to me, once again. (Life works in circles, doesn’t it?) Anyway, I thought to myself, maybe this is the way that I should spend the rest of my life, with “bags of attitude”, fully balanced with “bags of gratitude.” It sounds like the right plan for me.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Unfocused

I’m having a distracting morning. Usually I am better at protecting my early morning hours for just me and for my writing, but today I let myself get distracted – by wanting to sleep, by taking a phone call, by getting caught up on “click bait” on the internet, by getting caught up in “click bait”, in my mind, and in my imagination, and in the riling of my emotions. It happens. I like the phrase “It happens,” as long as I don’t use it too often as an excuse. “It happens” is a reminder that none of us are perfect. Life is often messy and so are we. Here are two quotes/passages I came across in my readings, which I like a lot. I think that you will, too.

“Thoughts are like taxis. You get in, they take you for a ride and you are left with the bill to pay. Instead, why not let them drive by?” – Gelong Thubten

“Singing – It calms us-the vibration in the body, the resonance rumbling through-there’s a reason lullabies put babies to sleep. To sing is to pray, to meditate, to speak the unspeakable, to let go of what has been kept silent. To sing in harmony is to share those things, to wrap one voice around another and fall in love in some way, to become alchemists of notes and create mixtures of soundwaves that magically put feelings in order, even if it has to rile them first.” – Allison Moorer

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Monday Fun-Day

Movie Quotes on Twitter: ""You don't save me. I save me." - Kim Wexler, Better Call Saul 2020… "

This is a going to be a little more serious than my typical Monday post, but it has been playing around in my head too long, for me to not get it out in writing. That’s how it works with me. My husband and I have been devoted to watching the “Better Call Saul” television series for the last few weeks. It’s excellent. Having been huge fans of “Breaking Bad”, I am not sure why it took us so long to get to the spinoff, “Better Call Saul”, but better late than never.

There is a powerful scene in the show, where one of the characters, Kim Wexler, is having to dig herself out of a hole with her employer – a hole, partially made by her love interest, Jimmy, and his bad judgment. Jimmy is trying to fix what has happened, in order to get back into Kim’s good graces. At the end of this poignant scene, Kim dismisses Jimmy’s shady ‘solution’ to the problem, by using her own reason and common sense and good judgment. With a very determined, and empowered and all-knowing demeanor, she says to Jimmy, “You don’t save me. I save me.”

“I save me.” Friends, this is a good mantra. Keep it in your back pocket. Use it often. Remind yourself how often you have saved yourself from negative experiences such as abusive relationships, toxic work places, financial crises, bad personal habits and addictions, health problems, and even working through, and overcoming grief. Sure, you may have received help from loved ones, and professionals, and your Higher Power, but you accepted that help. (As the proverb goes, “God helps those, who help themselves.”) You faced the problem head on, and realized, and admitted to yourself and to others, that you needed help. You loved yourself. You saved yourself. You loved yourself enough to save yourself. You stepped out of the victim chair and into your personal power. You saved yourself again and again. You showed yourself how worthy you are of love, and kindness, and goodness, and grace. You showed yourself that you could trust yourself. You stopped waiting around for someone, or something else, outside of yourself, to save you. You saved you. It’s the only way.

“I save me.”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.