It’s been nice and cool here the last couple of days. (70s is cold weather here) I’m loving it. The sun is smiling sweetly on us, instead of scorching us with the deathrays of Florida summers. It’s honestly like a switch has been flipped. I want to put a proverbial piece of masking tape over that switch with “Do Not Touch” sharpied on the tape. I am feeling hopeful this Monday. I wish the same for you.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
This couldn’t be more apropos to where I live right now. My neighbors drove by the other day and I thought they got a new car. I was wrong; the pollen made their black car look grey.
When I first moved to Florida and I ended up at the doctor’s office every two months for sinus infections, my doctor told me that I live in one of the two worst states for allergies. Hawaii and Florida are the worst states for allergies because something is blooming, all of the time, all year long. She also mentioned that by driving a convertible, it was like I was driving in a giant vacuum cleaner, sucking up all the pollen as I drive along. (I decided that the inconvenience of sneezing and wheezing was worth the freedom of toplessness.)
There are few things more embarrassing than having an allergy attack during this pandemic. I feel like wearing a sign saying, “Chill. It’s allergies!” I watched this poor woman struggling in the grocery store the other day. She was sneezing and sneezing and sneezing, right into her mask. Blech! Poor thing.
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
I saw “Snow Day” trending on Twitter and I got lost in some happy memories. When I was a kid in Pennsylvania, we would sit by the radio, and we would listen attentively and hopefully, to the Snow Day cancellations. The schools were announced in alphabetical order. If for some crazy reason, you had to go to the bathroom or some other interruption or loud noise happened, you’d have to wait all over again, for the next series of Snow Day cancellations, and wait patiently as they were announced, one by one, in alphabetical order. If our school got swindled, and we just got a stupid 2 hour delay, or worse, we actually had to go to school, we would console ourselves that the other schools were “wimps”, and that they’d have to go to school into the summer to make up for the snow day. But secretly, we stewed in angry jealousy.
My kids were raised in North Carolina, when they were youngsters. Snow Days were sparse there, but sparse snow also creates instant and dramatic Snow Days, in the south. (North Carolina didn’t have much in the budget to clean snow up, nor did they have the salt piles stored up in weird looking pyramids, like they had in Pennsylvania) One of my first realizations that my children were having a significantly different upbringing than I did, due significantly, to the onset of technology, is when I called out to them one morning, that the man on the radio said that they were having a Snow Day. “We already know, ” one of my sons called back. “We saw it on the internet.”
Unfortunately, when we moved to Florida, Snow Days became a thing of the past. Not to be outdone, however, Florida took it up a notch. In Florida, we have “Hurricane Days.” Every kid deserves the thrill of a day off of school, every once in a while, and Mother Nature knows how to make that happen. Mother Nature loves her children equally.
I think that I had the mindset in the beginning of the shutdown, that we were just hitting the pause button, flattening the curve and then everything would quickly go back the way that it was before this whole coronavirus mess, sooner than later. That was my optimistic, hopeful, Pollyanna mindset, without any real logical thought and reasoning behind it. It was a neat and tidy view. “Let’s just clean up this lil’ mess, and get on with our lives. Sunshine fixes everything.”
When things started opening back up again, it was obvious that quite a few people had the same mindset as me, and many were even a lot more bullish than me, about our state of affairs. (I tend to err on the side of caution.) Eager to put things behind us, people, to varying degrees, started behaving as if the pandemic was nearly over. Unfortunately and currently, my beautiful home state of Florida is now considered to be anywhere from a hotspot, to an epicenter of the coronavirus, depending on who you talk to about it. Normal is nowhere in sight.
I think that this is one of the hardest things to get used to about the pandemic. You get that housebound, “I gotta get outta here” feeling, so you head out of your house, to clear your head, all in search of “normal.” But where is “normal”? Will I ever get used to seeing masked faces, especially on children? Will I ever stop feeling the need to shrink into myself (my posture has never been worse) any time I pass another person on the street or in a store? Will I ever be able to sit in an eating establishment again, without that queasy uneasiness, and feeling the need to rush through the experience and escape the confines? Why does everyone seem to have an extra “edge” to their personalities these days, that makes them less approachable and sometimes even downright scary – of course, though, why wouldn’t they? Why does every decision feel like a weighty, two-edged sword? Should my daughter go to her physical school, with the inherent health risks, or should she do subpar on-line studies again? Should we support our friends’ and our family’s celebrations in person, or should we stay safer at home and be there in spirit, at the risk of hurting feelings? Should my eldest son risk flying down to visit us, or should we just continue with the poor, but safe substitute of Facetime? How much of our shopping is just better done online? There are very few easy decisions these days, with even fewer clear answers. It makes my head hurt.
I leave my house, to escape home and the monotonous routine, but everything that I encounter on the outside is so unusual, so disturbing, such an “in-your-face” reminder of the mess that we are in, that I find myself clamoring to just rush back home and quickly shut the door on it all, behind me. Will I ever get used to our “new normal” to the point when a vaccine is found and things really do start going back to the way we knew them, that I might actually have to get used to my “old normal” in the way that I am feeling right now about today’s state of affairs? What a completely bizarre experience we are all going through!!
That being said, some things remain constant. Good food tastes wonderful. Laughter is the best medicine. Sleep is a lovely, peaceful, renewing experience. Nature seems impervious to it all, and remains a sanctuary for us to settle into and calm our nerves. We have each other to lean on, to love on, to gain perspectives from, and to rally our collective strength and courage. And of course and most importantly, our Maker has never left us and will lead us through it all, if we get quiet and humble enough to hear the directions we should take to bring us to a brighter tomorrow.
Yesterday, my husband, my daughter and I swam with manatees. The one pictured above is one of many manatees who we met on our adventure. I have been wanting to swim with manatees since we moved to Florida almost nine years ago. They are the sweetest, most docile, gentle giants you could ever come across in the wild. This experience was one of my most favorite adventures in nature that I have ever experienced and I have done a lot of wandering around in nature, in my forty-nine years. What I learned from this is, don’t let your life just pass on by, without making sure you are getting everything that you want out of it. Take the time and energy and resources, to plan in the bucket list items. Life is fleeting. I forgot my little bag of fortunes, so today’s fortune comes from a manatee magnet in the gift shop:
“Slow and steady wins the race.”
Tomorrow is the first day of Autumn. I switched up my wreath on my door to a vivid orange one. I put an orange-red coat of polish on my toenails. As you know, I often compare us Second-Halfers to Autumn, a season which many people consider to be the most beautiful of the year. To celebrate, I’ve decided to send you, my readers, a card. (Keep in mind, I live in Florida. We like cheesy alligator references.)
I have more of these blank cards. So, if you, my very smart and creative friends, could come up with other things to write inside of them, I would love to have your ideas! See you tomorrow!!
Behind our home is a small lake and behind the small lake is part of an expansive nature preserve. A white heron often comes and perches in the thick expanse of trees and greenery that make up the preserve. The white heron is still, elegant, peaceful. It is such a beautiful, tranquil contrast to the unruly thickness of the foliage all around it, the greenery that twists and turns and fights for the center stage of the forest, reaching and seeking desperately, upwards and outwards. When I see the heron, I often wonder if that is what our souls look like. The beautiful, quiet, placid spirit part of us, deeply nestled in the center of the thick, and wild forest of our minds and our thoughts and our lives. It quietly sits and observes and reflects without thoughts and judgments and cares. The white heron is beautiful. It is quiet. It is being still. It is being. It is.
Happy 4th of July!! I am proudly patriotic. So, is my husband – it is one of the things that I love so much about him. He had our flag flying yesterday. We are both military brats and we both have seen enough of the United States to know that it is a beautiful, beautiful country filled with vibrant, diverse, good people. Sure, we have our differences and our divides, but in the end, we come together to form one of the most dynamic, awe-inspiring, freedom loving, generous, productive nations, history has ever known.
I live in Florida, by the beach. I was just out in Montana, hiking and attending rodeos. Our states’ terrains could not be more different (mountains and rocks versus swamp lands and sand), our style of dress is entirely different (cowboy boots versus flip-flops) our scary animals are unique to our each of our states, but equally as ominous (bears versus alligators), and even our life pace were two different things. (slow and easy, versus crowded and high-charged) Yet, we are all fellow Americans. We all lay claim to the beauty and abundance and unique attributes that both states provide for us all. And that goes for every magnificent state in this great nation. We share a bountiful, breathtakingly beautiful land, filled with generous, creative, individualistic humans and we have created a country – a structure, that supports that generosity, creativity and rugged individualism. I am so grateful to be an American.
Enjoy the fireworks tonight, friends! Try not to tear up when Whitney Houston’s unbeatable rendition of our national anthem is played. Know that even in times of turmoil, frustration and strife, our country stands strong. Our country is great. Our country is a precious gift that deserves our grateful acknowledgment for all that it bestows.
People like to say that Florida, where I live, is Heaven’s waiting room. There are a lot of older people in Florida, that is true. However, I must add that the older people in Florida are among the healthiest, “youngest” elderly citizens whom I have ever encountered.
There is a man who lives in my neighborhood, who I have only talked to a handful of times, yet I consider him to be a major inspiration for what I want to be like when I am elderly. He is in his 80s and every time that I see him (which I feel like happens on almost a daily basis), he is doing two things: smiling and exercising. This man waves to everyone, whether he is walking or biking. I don’t think that I have ever encountered him in a bad mood, even when he was an officer for our neighborhood’s homeowner’s association. (This is no easy feat.)
Pablo Picasso said that we don’t age – we ripen. Florida is a good state to ripen in. Smiling and exercise and sunshine are good conditions to ripen in. This man proves the point that age is just an attitude. I think all of us who are getting older should have gratitude for that fact. It means that we have been given more days to age and to ripen. Every day that we are alive is a precious gift of wonder and miracles. There is no wonder why my neighbor is smiling and soaking in the sunshine as he waves to everyone on his bike. He gets it.
“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.” – Albert Camus
“No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.” – John Donne
Today is the first full day of fall. I love this season. I know so many people who say that autumn is their favorite season. I live in Florida, but I grew up in Pennsylvania and I went to college in Virginia. Both of those states admittedly have much prettier fall leaves than what we get in Florida. Still, even Florida has its change of seasons. My house has a lake behind it and behind that is a nature preserve. In the fall, the light of the sun is finally able to poke through the preserve’s thick wall of trees and brush, hinting at the light that lives inside all of existence. The Japanese people call this beautiful sight of “sunshine filtering through leaves”, komorebi. I’m surprised that we English speakers don’t have just one word for that phenomenon because it is so lovely to behold.
“I love autumn, the season of the year that God seemed to have just put there for the beauty of it.” – Lee Maynard
When my son was on a travel soccer team trip a few years ago, we headed up north for a soccer tournament and one of the mothers, a native Floridian asked me timidly if I thought that it would be okay for her to bring back some colored leaves. I said, “Honey, they will give you as many Hefty bags as you want.” I remember the hours spent raking up the beautiful leaves in all of their splendor. I remember all of the different school assignments and crafts involving the lovely leaves. For some reason, those chores and assignments never seemed as agonizing as picking up fallen apples covered in bees in the summer or shoveling snow in the winter. There is just something so comforting in all things relating to fall. The gorgeous colored leaves, pumpkins, pumpkin spice, Halloween and Thanksgiving, swirling light winds, back to school, the start of football season, light sweaters and throws, etc. are all things of autumn and things that are almost universally appreciated.
“Autumn is the mellow season and what we lose in flowers, we more than gain in fruits.” – Samuel Butler
Second Halfers, we are autumn. We have gone through the spring of our childhoods and the summer of becoming an adult. We are in our full-color prime, bearing the fruits of who we really are and showing the world the beauty of the banquet of what we have to give. We are calmer than in our previous seasons. Our colors don’t necessarily burst, but our colors are vivid and show all that we have lived through and experienced, making our season’s colors the most beautiful of all – the colors that all of the world celebrates. How blessed we are to be in this lovely season of our lives!
“Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature has been saving all year for the grand finale.” – Lauren Destefano
