empty nest Archives - Page 172 of 179 - Adulting: Second- Half

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!

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

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.”

Live For Moments

“Acting is all about honesty. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made.” – George Burns

“When real music comes to me – the music of the spheres, the music that surpasses understanding – that has nothing to do with me, ’cause I’m just the channel. The joy for me is for it to be given to me, and to transcribe it like a medium… those moments are what I live for.”
– John Lennon

Creative arts is all about authenticity, vulnerability, and channeling Greater Forces. That is why we all respond to these artistic outputs, in their highest form. A beautiful painting, a breath-catching photograph, a soul-searing poem, touch us and connect us to the deepest part of ourselves like nothing else can. And then, when we look around and catch a glimmer of that same awestruck feeling that we are feeling, also in the faces of the other observers/experiencers, that’s when we feel the least alone. That is when we feel the silver web of connection that we often forget is there, holding all of us together, creating an amazing, gorgeous tapestry of Life and Love. That’s when gratitude washes over us and cleanses us to our cores, reminding us of what we are all really made of, at our purest form of passionate energy.

My friend turned me on to Lizzo yesterday. Her college-aged daughter introduced her to Lizzo and I earned a lot of “cool mom points” when I picked up my daughter from the high school yesterday, playing Lizzo, at high volume. My daughter knew all of the words already. Lizzo is a female rapper and most of her songs speak of empowerment. Lizzo sings/says a song called “Truth Hurts.” When I looked the song up on Youtube, I saw this comment, about the song, that made me smile:

“this song makes me feel like a strong independent woman.. and i’m a guy.” – Foreign Warren

My favorite line in Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts” is this:

“Why men great ’til they gotta be great?”

If we’re going to talk about equality and empowerment, that line applies to all of us – male and female and everything else in between, doesn’t it? We lose the connection and the channel to our deepest, most creative inspirations, when we start focusing on the response to our output versus the joy of creating (an co-creating) the output. When we start aiming in on how many likes and views and notes of approval from others that we’re hoping to get, the connection to what the Universe is really trying to do with our lives, gets static-y and sometimes even gets disconnected. And we feel lost and confused and disappointed and sometimes, empty. We need to be refilled with what really keeps us connected. And the rub is, what keeps us connected is not anything applauding us on the outside, but moreso, what is deep, and profound, rising up inside of us, just wanting to burst through, in all of its glory.

John Lennon is arguably one of the greatest musicians of our lifetime and “those moments are what I live for” were the moments that he was gifted to “transcribe” what the Universe wanted the rest of us to enjoy, and to relate to and to sing along to, sometimes at the top of our lungs. He didn’t talk about sold-out concerts, or how many people were in his fan club, or his NYC penthouse. Lennon’s “live for moments” were during the creative process, with his juices flowing, and his open heart just taking in everything and transcribing the Love that was meant to touch all of our hearts, every time we listened to one of Lennon’s songs.

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Sing Us a Song

Last night, I attended a wonderful concert, in which a 71-year-old musician, an old-time rocker, had us all up on our feet. He was still a great showman, changing costumes, running across the stage and yelling out a primal scream that at my age of 48, I don’t think that I have in me anymore. I imagine that this performer will be a showman until the day that he dies.

I love musicians. If there is anyone who lives their lives on their sleeves, it is them. Anyone who can turn raw emotion into a song that keeps the rest of us humming along in life, is a true alchemist. Watching a band in the middle of a set, is watching pure life and happiness flow out of its human forms to congregate and make beautiful sound and rhythm and harmony, that the rest of us catch and bring into our souls, as we sing and dance along. There is no wonder why musicians capture our awe and adoration. They remind us what pure life sounds like and feels like in reverberation. What a gift that has been bestowed upon them, in the form of a talent that is only best understood when it is shared. Music is Love whispered, shouted, sung, and hummed and strummed, reminding us of the vibration of our own very hearts, way beyond just the physical beats.

“Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything.” ― Plato

Cacophony

Yesterday, we were perusing a really cool, modern, city bike shop. While making our purchases, sitting right by the cash register, I noticed a little display, of tiny bike bells, guaranteed to make the loudest, longest ringing sound that a bike bell has ever made. So like any mature middle-aged person, I rang one of the bells. Sure enough, the advertisements were not a lie. There were several different colors of bells on the display, so without really thinking, more on impulse, I guess, I decided to try every color at once (as if the color of the metal was going to make any difference in the sound). It was like a little bell symphony – a loud and annoying and never-ending one.

The clerk had a wincing look on her face and a tight smile as she wrapped up our purchases.

“Ugh. I’m sorry about my lack of impulse control,” I said. “You probably hate these bells. It’s like the stores that keep their animated holiday decorations right by the register. While the rest of us are all kind of enchanted by the bobbing Elvis Christmas dog belting out “I’ll Have a Blue Christmas” with just a press of its cute little paw in a mitten, the cashier is ready to beat anyone black and blue with the mechanical Elvis dog, because she or he has already seen and heard the dog’s little song and dance, 18,942 times and it isn’t even Halloween yet.”

“Exactly,” she said with a fatigued look on her face, watching my hands very closely, just daring me to make the unfortunate decision to ring yet another bell.

I just smiled, thanked her, took my package and left. I’m a mature woman. Plus, I think that being pelted by a box of metal bike bells would be very painful.

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Where is the love, y’all??

“Here’s the thing – I’m friends with George Bush.

“In fact, I’m friends with a lot of people who don’t share the same beliefs that I have. We’re all different, and I think we’ve forgotten that that’s okay, that we’re all different.”

The presenter used the example that while she wishes people didn’t wear real fur, she has a lot of friends who do.

“But just because I don’t agree with someone on everything, doesn’t mean that I’m not going to be friends with them,” DeGeneres said.

-From the Ellen Degeneres show, after the fallout of her sitting next to George W. Bush during a football game

You know that I have sidestepped and tried to stay away from controversy, for the most part, in my blog. I don’t like politics (nor politicians, frankly), I believe that there are many paths to God, and I certainly don’t care to have people cram their opinions and “shoulds” down my throat. Further, if I just don’t agree with the other person’s opinion, I don’t care to be made out as an “idiot” or even worse, a “villian.” I respect everyone’s right to their own viewpoint, and I expect the same respect in return. No harm, no foul.

What I was trying to get across in my blog that I wrote on Tuesday (Love. Spirit. Life.) was that if we can’t have honest discourse and questioning with each other about our differences, if we have to feel fearful of admitting our conflicted thoughts and feelings and beliefs, all that have arisen from our own unique and personal experiences – these very experiences that have helped shape our own lifetime perspectives, how are we ever going to evolve and move forward to a more enlightened, cohesive state of being, as a whole? How are we ever going to feel that we are leaving a good world for our children and our grandchildren, when we pick divisiveness and exclusivity in our “clubs of thought” over our love for the whole of humanity?

If I were to only choose to associate with people who felt the exact same way as I do about all things, than I wouldn’t have one single friend. In fact, the six people who I love the most in this world, my immediate family, would no longer be able to associate with each other. In the last presidential election, the voting members of our family of six, effectively cancelled each others’ votes out.

We all complain about the horrifying polarization of our current society (that seems like the one thing most of us agree about), yet we start out with the assumption that anyone who doesn’t see things the way that we do, is evil or stupid – people to be feared and ostracized. How are we ever going to experience empathy, understanding and compromise, if we are made to feel that we can’t even express our own viewpoints for fear of being excommunicated from our communities, our churches, our friend groups, perhaps even our own families?!? What is our highest law? Shouldn’t it be Love?!? Does Love behave this way?!?

We all complain about the horrific statements made anonymously on the internet. Still, even with these forums, we have gotten so “careful” that I have even seen anonymous Comments, start off with, “I’m probably going to be skewered for this, but here goes . . . .”

We will never be entirely unified with anyone about everything. But if we choose to only communicate and commune with people who are close enough to “being just like us”, we will never, ever bridge these ever widening gaps. We will just add more suspicion, paranoia and make assumptions about other people, without ever trying to see them as most importantly, other people who likely have the very same deepest, core concerns as us. (love, safety, health, security, and peace for our families and our friends, our communities, and our world)

I am always amused when people tell me I’m so “honest” in my blog. Why shouldn’t we all be “honest”? I’m not saying cruel, and thoughtless and blunt. (which unfortunately, I have been these things, as well, and I am not proud of that fact) Why do we fear having open, authentic discourse? I think it is because the new way of communicating seems to be more “cram my righteous thoughts, ‘my holier than thou beliefs’ down your throat” and if you don’t agree with me, I will attack you with name-calling, bullying, shaming and ganging up on you, and then I will never speak to you (or anyone who you associate with) again.”

What ever happened to really hearing each other, trying to understand where the other person is coming from? What every happened to saying, “This is how I am seeing and experiencing and processing what is going on. Tell me your thoughts. Where am I wrong? What am I missing?” Whatever happened to the belief that in the end, we are so much better off looking for our connections, than staying in our far corners of disconnect??

I don’t like rants. I just wrote one. I am only human. Aren’t we all???

“Discussions are always better than arguments, because an argument is to find out WHO is right, and a discussion is to find our WHAT is right.” – unknown

Brought Him Back

I’m headed out to see my eldest son’s new digs this weekend for the first time. I am going to see his life in reality, not just how he describes it to me. I have my expectations set correctly. He has always leaned heavily towards the Oscar side of things, versus Felix. I can’t wait to see him, of course, but I also can’t wait to have an accurate visual of him hiking around the neighborhood lake, the placid lake that he always talks about while he talks to us, his short commute to his office building and I can’t wait to see his beloved local grocery store, supposedly filled with fabulous, unique delicacies, the likes that we’ve never seen.

My daughter and I were talking about what it is like to see something or someone in reality, that apparition which you have conjured up in your mind, for a very long time. When I read a good, engrossing novel, before long, I have a very detailed image in my mind, of what the characters look like, and their mannerisms and their voices. When Hollywood gets it “wrong” in the movie version, I just want to scream. Sometimes, I can’t even finish watching the film.

Also interesting are the times that I have seen celebrities, in person. That experience is always a tad disconcerting, too. The celebrities always seem like such teeny people to me. Perhaps, because in our minds, famous people seem so much larger than life, so when we see them in person, they are shockingly normal sized. They are amazingly, just people, and not the exaggerated, dynamos of energy, announcing their presence like The Great Wizard of Oz. The real person part of them is the human wizard who lives behind the curtain, behind the facade of their illustrious acting or singing or sporting personas. When the superstars are not bolstered up, and blown up by the spotlights and the limelight, they shrink back to size, like a puff pastry, taken out of the hot oven, to cool down.

Regardless, while curiosity killed the cat, I’ve always liked the part of the proverb that reminds us that “satisfaction brought him back.” I love having my curiosity satisfied. It is one of my greatest pleasures in life. Even if whatever I have been anticipating disappoints or is 180 degrees different than what I have been anticipating, at least I am now, “in the know.” There is no nebulous about that particular person, place or thing, swirling around in my mind, lost in wonder and fog and exaggeration. The hazy, imagined concept, constantly being stirred and conjured and changed up in my imagination, finally solidifies to form to a concrete vision – a hard chunk of reality, and my life and my visions and my sensibility feels more solid again. I’ve got my feet on the ground again, and the comfort of the accuracy of my experience versus the ambiguity of an idea with no true, real physical form, has the tendency to give my soul some solace and my mind some peace.