“whenever a car waits for me to cross the street, I wave and mouth ‘thank you’ and rush across as fast as I can because I need them to think, wow what an 11/10 pedestrian” – Sarah J. Hass, X
This tweet just tickled me. I have been that pedestrian. And then I have admonished myself for being that overly grateful, slightly pathetic pedestrian. (Pedestrians have the right-of-way in Florida. Shouldn’t I walk confidently and stridently, at a normal pace, with my head held high?) I have also cursed under my breath, the 2/10 passive-aggressive, control freak pedestrian who meanders slowly across the walkway, phone in front of face, taking time to the smell the roses, while stealing a look over at me with a mean little smirk, seemingly delighting in my frustration.
I’ve honestly trained myself to be patient with all kinds of pedestrians, and even with all kinds of drivers, too. I’ve unintentionally run the whole gamut from 1-10 in both categories. And so I like to think that the person who I am annoyed with at that moment, is typically an 8/10 driver and/or an 8/10 pedestrian and just happens to be having an off-day. We all have them.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
2883. What was the hardest thing about being a kid for you?
I devote this Monday to Cycle Breakers. These are the people who stop the continuation of “Hurt People Hurt People.” Cycle breakers alchemize their hurt to change it to good, and to healing, and to hope for others who are walking similar paths. Cycle Breakers change their hurt from “excuses for their behavior” to “motivations for change.” I know many of these people intimately. These are “my people.”
“A cycle breaker is someone who doesn’t perpetuate harmful behavior because it was all they knew. They went searching for other options. They were determined to learn more. They trusted that all they knew wasn’t enough because they wanted a different life.” – Nate Postlethwait
“A cycle breaker is someone who grew up without an example of the life they wanted or needed, and fought like hell to build that life later.” – Nate Postlethwait
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
562. If you were entering a baking contest, what recipe would you make?
My friend and I were having an interesting conversation yesterday about what feels like “home.” My friend is a recent transplant to her town in Florida and while she loves it, she’s not sure if it feels like “home” yet. I’ve lived in Florida for thirteen years now, the longest I’ve lived anywhere in my adult life, and sometimes I’m not even sure if it feels like “home.” If I’m honest, there were times I didn’t feel at “home” even in my own hometown. Truthfully, there are even times that I haven’t felt at home in my own skin. It got me to thinking that “home” isn’t really a place. “Home” is more of a feeling of security, comfort, acceptance, wholeness, belonging, peace of mind, and connection. We intuitively know we are “home” when we feel that perfect mix of these feelings all at once, wherever we happen to be, and with whomever we happen to be with. Yesterday, I felt perfectly “at home” with my dear friend.
I watched an adorable video this morning of a little girl belting out a song from the Disney movie, Frozen at a Waffle House. She was singing and dancing and along with her, a wonderful Waffle House employee was singing and dancing with equal dramatics and enthusiasm. They interviewed the little girl’s mother on the video, and she was gushing about this particular Waffle House. The little girl’s mother said that she and her friends think that it should be called “Waffle Home” instead of “Waffle House.”
We all know that distinction between “house” and “home.” A house shelters us, but a home nourishes us. A house is somewhere to stay, but a home is somewhere to heal. A house can be amazingly grand and perfect in every way, but if it is missing those essential ingredients of warmth and well-being, it’s just a lovely structure. Sometimes we go somewhere we’ve never been and we feel instantly “at home”. This just seems to prove that “home” is something that we carry with us.
We all have heard the adage, “Home is where the heart is.” When we reach middle age and beyond, our hearts have been stretched to many places, to many experiences, to many people, at many different stages of life. Maybe it’s harder to feel “at home” when pieces of your heart are spread all over the wide map of your own one life.
We all can agree, when we do feel “at home”, there is no better feeling. The people, places, animals and experiences which make us feel at home are the best gifts in life.
“Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.” – Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” – Maya Angelou
“When you finally go back to your old home, you find it wasn’t the old home you missed but your childhood.” – Sam Ewing
“Where thou art, that is home.” -Emily Dickinson
“God is at home, it’s we who have gone out for a walk.” – Meister Eckhart
“One never reaches home, but wherever friendly paths intersect the whole world looks like home for a time.” – Hermann Hesse
“Home is the nicest word there is.” – Laura Ingalls Wilder
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
1344. How would you explain your basic life philosophy?
“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something – your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down and it has made all of the difference in my life.” – Steve Jobs
How many of us, in these middle years of our lives, have already been able to connect some of the dots of our past, which help to make sense of the direction we needed, in order to become the person we are now? How many of us are now grateful for some experiences that at the time seemed horrific/unfair/unimaginable to us, but we now realize helped change the trajectory of our lives for good? I have always held the belief that life isn’t happening to us. It is happening for us. It’s not a game of individual stakes. It is a system that we are a part of, that is evolving towards its own perfection.
The end product of any great work of art, architecture, entertainment, scientific discovery, engineering, physical feats etc. rarely shows the mistakes, the mishaps, the sacrifices, the doubts, the do-overs, the anguish, the pain, the hopes, the fears, the wins, the losses, nor the countless hours of dedication that took to achieve it. We sometimes think that greatness just appeared easily, and out of thin air. Many of the ideas of greatness may seem to appear magically out of thin air, but bringing these ideas into fruition, involved a lot of bold individual “dots” before they are fully connected into the pictures of greatness which we witness today.
Trust that one day, what doesn’t make sense to you now, will someday make complete sense, when you are able to zoom out and see the whole picture, and you are able to connect the dots that form the picture of your own life, as a teeny beautiful part of the overall masterpiece of Life and Creation. You certainly don’t have to live in this state of faith and trust (you have free will), but what is a better alternative?
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
The question is, “What to write about when the world seems like it is a mess?” I started writing this daily blog in 2018. I have written this blog, almost every single day, living through many “messes” already (both globally and personally): the unprecedented pandemic; the leaving of each of my four precious children out from our comfortable, safe nest into their own adult lives; the worst year to date, of the seizures that come with my youngest son’s epilepsy; the long drawn-out, debilitating illness of my mother-in-law which culminated in her death; suicides of loved ones, the craziness of seeing horrific wars erupt, and witnessing multiple divisive elections, multiple hurricanes, multiple societal horrors, etc. etc. . . . . .and yet here I am, sitting in my writing nook, in my peaceful stillness, looking out my large windows at the gorgeous, sunlit nature teeming all around me, my beloved dogs all afoot, dozing quietly and comfortably. Throughout all of the messes, I have experienced so, so many joys: witnessing each of my children thrive into their adulthoods, in both love and in their careers and studies and health; amazing, mind-blowing trips and adventures with my husband, family members and friends; countless delicious meals and vibrant conversations and stimulating walks and fascinating reading, on an everyday basis; and of course, Writing. I write practically every single day and it is one of my greatest joys and sense of being and purpose in my lifetime. Writing is one of my daily doses of joy which I freely give to myself with gratitude for my ability and propensity and enthusiasm to do it.
Messes, big and small, are part of life. Joy is part of life. Just because there are messes does not mean that you should deny yourself your joys. If anything, the bigger the mess, the more we need to double-down on our joys and our sense of purpose and meaning. We might never be able to make sense of the messes (although we often survive the messes, and sometimes even thrive because of them), but we can always find meaning in our own every day experience, even if that meaning is just to focus fully on the sensual, visceral experience of each moment that we are alive and breathing. When we bring ourselves to a deep level of peace, and calm, and awe, we add these beautiful elements into our collective experience, and the more that we do this on an individual basis, the more the joys outweigh the messes, in our own lives and also, in the shared experience of our world. And this is how, the whole world subtly gets lifted out of its painful messes.
“Acceptance is the key to unlocking the door of contentment.” – Celestine Chua
“Acceptance doesn’t mean you agree with, condone, or give up. It simply means you stop fighting reality.” – Dan Millman
“Acceptance does not mean resignation; it means understanding that something is what it is and that there’s got to be a way through it.” – Michael J. Fox
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
1181. Have you ever built a snowman? (I think snow is a good thing to focus on, during this ridiculously hot summer).
I was flipping through my emails this morning, and I came across writer/podcaster Kelly Corrigan’s quick summary of her conversation with Aliza Pressman, who is an author and a counselor and a parenting expert. So, I went down the rabbit hole of watching various interviews and videos Aliza Pressman had made on The TodayShow and on her Instagram, filled with excellent parenting tips, and my overall impression was 1.) Aliza makes many practical, useful, sensible, effective suggestions and 2.) Thank heavens that our four kids are grown and I don’t have to frantically try out any of her suggestions! We don’t even have grandchildren yet. Yes, we do have three somewhat unruly, misbehaved dogs. (My daughter kept chiding us, earlier this summer, that we simply weren’t going to believe how extremely well-behaved the darling dogs of London are, running around leashless in Hyde Park only because they listen to every command their owners give to them, every single time. Yes, it seems that even English dogs have better manners than their American counterparts. I have always wholly admitted that we were much better at raising kids, than we were at raising dogs.)
I have reached that early empty nest realization that my younger self (and my husband’s younger self, and my friends’ younger selves) were total badasses. Parenting is hard! I was cleaning out ancient emails the other day and I found an email which I had sent to a family member, trying to schedule some time to get together one weekend. With four kids at home, balancing four crazy schedules of school and sports and activities, the schedule read like something you’d expect from a rock star’s world tour, or a dignitary visiting a foreign land and trying to make the utmost of the short time allotted. And I sounded so calm in my email. Just reading the schedule exhausted me. But my former self seemed to take it all in stride.
I loved raising my family. However, I also love that this mission is completed. Parenting is hard work: physically, mentally, and particularly emotionally. There is no job in the world that you don’t beat yourself up more for not doing it “right.” When you are actively parenting, you are on call 24/7. Even when we were on vacation, when the kids were little, it often seemed like we had just packed up our life of parenting, and unpacked it (and unpacked, and unpacked, and unpacked) in a different location.
The thing about parenting is that it always carries a low level of “guilt.” Even now I feel “guilty” writing that I am relieved that my “raising my kids days” are complete. I see many people pining away for the days when the kids were little. I’m not completely sure what that pining is about. Is it loss of our own youth and vitality? Is it stuck in regrets of wishing we had done things differently, or that circumstances had gone differently? Is it losing too much of our identity in our roles as parents, that we feel a loss of who we are currently? Is it feeling a loss of control, and loss of great amounts of time and insight, into the separate lives of our now adult children?
I feel kind of fortunate that I don’t feel too sad that my active parenting phase is over. My friend loves to repeat the adage, “Don’t cry because it’s over. Be happy that it happened.” Thankfully, I believe that I am a “moving forward” kind of a person. That is not to say, that I don’t ever get caught up in the grips of nostalgia from time to time, or that I don’t ever look in the mirror and wish that I could bring that 30-something body and energy back into being, but overall, I’ve plunged fully and enthusiastically into each new phase of my life, and I intend to do the same with this empty nest phase that I am just wading into now. Life is a journey forward. I know that someday, in my quiet, elderly years, I’ll look back at what my empty nest emails/texts/communications looked like, and I will be in awe of my empty nest self, and everything that she experienced and completed and learned in that phase of her life. I will think to myself, “She (and her husband and her friends) sure were badasses” and then I’ll keep being my badass elderly self until it really is all over.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
1591. Do your goals and dreams energize you – or exhaust you?
There is nothing like the jolt of the first Monday after a long vacation. It’s jarring and disorienting in its own special way. It’s like jumping into your place in a marching band in the middle of a performance. (or at least that’s what I imagine it to be as I have never been in a marching band) It’s amazing how you have to remind yourself of your usual routine.
When I was at the Poetry Pharmacy store, I purchased a wonderful card set, called the Emotional Barometer. Many years ago, I attended a workshop that showed how often we don’t know how to describe our own emotions and what they are telling us. In order to get in touch with our own emotions, and in order to have the ability to have empathy for ourselves and for others, we have to get a better description of the myriad of feelings we humans go through in any given day, and what these emotions may be telling us, and what they could mean for us in the way of direction and insight. This card set has a wheel on the front of it, that states twenty different feelings. Today, I considered that here, at this slightly “dazed and confused” moment, I’m feeling kind of “dreamy.”
The corresponding card to “Dreamy” has this to say:
This is like having wonderful cheap therapy in a box!! This wonderful card set/tool box is offered by THESCHOOLOFLIFE.COM I highly recommend this purchase.
Have a great week, friends!! See you tomorrow.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
“Habit is necessary; it is the habit of having habits, of turning a trail into a rut, that must be incessantly fought against if one is to remain alive.” – Edith Wharton
(****On an aside, I first started today’s blog post with “I think that the most important thing . . . ” and then I stopped and I deleted “I think“. Of course I think what I am writing. That is why I am writing it. When I add “I think” it is unnecessary, and makes it seem apologetic and less full of conviction. I remember getting blasted by an English teacher once, for starting every sentence with “I feel”. First of all, feelings are sensations. They are not thoughts. Feelings are a direct result of our thoughts and our actions. Secondly, if I write something, I should be able to stand by it, with conviction. Thank you to all of my wonderful English teachers throughout my schooling. Your lessons were not lost on me. <3 And yes, we writers do feela lot about what we think. I feel. I definitely feel.)
The most important thing about taking breaks from your normal everyday life, whether it be on a trip or even a “staycation” is that you stop digging the rut of your everyday life. A rut is literally “a long, deep track made by the repeated passage of the wheels of vehicles” (Oxford dictionary). Vehicles often get stuck in ruts. So do people. Doing anything differently for a day, or a week, or a month, always changes your perspective to some degree. It gives you insight you didn’t have before. Taking the trail off of the rutted road helps you grow in new directions.
One of the meanings of vacation is this “a respite or a time of respite from something”. Is there something you need to take a respite from in your own life, so you can consider it more carefully? Look at the normal routine of your every day and ask yourself, “Why?” about everything. Be your own annoying five-year-old kid. Why? Why? Why? Why do I make my bed this way? Why do I eat these things? Why do I go to bed when I do? Why do I watch what I watch? Why do I belong to this club or organization? Why do I part my hair this way? Do these “whys” still make sense for me?
When I am on vacation, being the curious person that I am, I am a huge observer. I observe how other people do things. And then I observe my own reactions to my observations. I often start a few new trails in my own life, based on my new observations and my reactions to these observations.
Vacations do not have to be exotic trips abroad. Vacations are just movements away from our own rutted roads. Vacations are respite from our ruts. Give yourself a vacation from just one “everyday thing” in your life today. Journey off the rutted road.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
Hi, friends and readers!!! I’m back. I’ve missed you, and writing the Adulting-SecondHalf blog, so, so much. But I just came back from a wonderful trip to London and other parts of England. (My husband and I just had to check up on our daughter who is studying there this summer. We knew that she missed us. Ha!) I had never been to England before, and I was so utterly pleased with what I experienced. I am not a city dweller. I love nature. I like to call myself “Snow White.” But if I had to live in a city, London is the most liveable city that I have ever travelled to, and I have been fortunate enough to have visited many cities in our own country, and abroad.
But before I bore you to death with my trip details, I do realize that this is Friday and it is a good one!! It’s the New Moon. We are officially, fresh-starting the second half of the year. What do you want for the rest of this year? It’s a perfect time to reflect, get your thoughts down in writing, and start taking steps towards what you want. My first half of the year has been amazing – chock full of adventures, travel, visits with family and friends, weddings, the birthday clump of our family members, holidays etc. etc. Honestly, it’s been delightful, but it’s also been a lot. I like the second half of the year because things don’t get too drummed up for our family, until the holidays at the end of the year. Things in my life never seem as frenzied during the second half of the year. I like spontaneity and the second half of the year seems to allow for more of it. But, I digress. . . . today is Favorite Things Friday on the blog!! Today my favorite is packing cubes. I had never used these before in my travels, but my daughter insisted that they make a huge difference in utilizing space in your luggage. I purchased a soft set of about seven packing cubes for this trip, and while I’ve never been good about rolling up my stuff like little sushi rolls (my husband, being a long-time military brat, is a master at this), I loved how organized these cubes kept my stuff. My tops were with my tops. My bottoms were with my bottoms. My hair stuff was all together and easily found. My suitcase was no longer the jack-in-the-box jumble that it usually is, when I am travelling. If you have never tried packing cubes, I highly recommend giving them a try.
Okay, for those of you who want my reflections on London and other parts of England, here they are, in no particular order:
+ England has excellent food. It is a mistaken thought that the only thing good to eat in England is fish and chips. (although, I had fish and chips and it was yummy) I had incredible food including delicious steak ale pies, delectable sandwiches, fantastic Indian food, superfresh and colorful greens and fruits and desserts from Borough Market . . . now you may think, “Well yes, you were in a major city in the world. There is competition and variety,” but I will tell you that the best food that I had on my trip was in a tiny pub, out in the country, near Salisbury, England. We had “Sunday Roast” there which was like a fabulous Thanksgiving meal. You could choose beef or chicken or steak pie, and then on top of each of these was a huge Yorkshire Pudding. Yorkshire Pudding was maybe my favorite item that I ate the whole time I was in England. Yorkshire Pudding is a delightful, doughy cloud that you dip in gravy. I adore it!
+ I kept describing London as the most “wholesome” city I have ever been to, and we went all over London. My husband and I averaged walking about 20,000 steps a day. (my kids were never a fan of our style of vacationing. “Some people like to relax on vacation,” was something which we often heard muttered by one, or by all four of our children, on our various vacations) London has wide streets, lower buildings, less traffic (the London Underground is safe, easy to navigate, quiet, and reliable – we took it everywhere), and lots of green spaces. The people are reserved, but kind and polite and eager to help you. It’s a wonderful place for “eye candy”: beautiful historic cathedrals and buildings, colorful flowers outside of every pub, gorgeous, multicultural people with smart, dressed-up, intriguing style. In short, London is everything it’s cracked up to be.
+ My husband and I saw King Charles being driven out of Buckingham Palace, quite by chance. We noticed that the gates to the palace had been opened, and a crowd was gathering around the road by the gates. My husband and I were curious, but having it be our first day in London, we instead decided to meander over to the fountain in front of the palace to see it more closely. The next thing we knew, a police officer stopped traffic on the road, just a few feet away from us, and a luxurious black car drove by with the white-haired king sitting in the back, his fingers in front of his body, held in a position, much like when you were a kid and you were playing, “Here is the church, Here is the steeple”. His fingers were in “steeple position.”
+ We toured St. Paul’s Cathedral, The British Museum, Southwark Cathedral, The Tower of London and Westminster Abbey. All were interesting. I particularly liked the smaller Southwark Cathedral where Shakespeare is said to have spent a lot of time and I delighted in having the proper English afternoon tea experience (with a three stack tower of treats) at The British Museum while my husband satiated himself in Egyptian history. While all of the buildings and their historical significance were incredible, it struck me that Westminster Abbey was essentially an extremely enormous fancy mausoleum. And having spent most of our time in The British Museum staring at mummies and sarcophaguses from Egyptian tombs, it struck me that it is kind of sad and egotistical that many of the wealthy humans of our past were so fixated on the afterlife, and of being remembered by future people. (other than major historical figures and writers buried in Westminster Abbey, I knew very few of the names nor the significance of the people buried there) I honestly found the experience to be an excellent reminder that life on earth is NOW. And as happens on all of my travels, I was sincerely amazed how many millions of different people I was witnessing every day, all over just one city, on our great big Earth. (and as happens on all of my travels, there were plenty of Americans afoot. You just can’t escape us. There is a line from a song, whose band and name escapes me now, where the singer dejectedly and flatly states, “Oh, you’re all still here.” That line played in my mind a few times on this trip.) Anyway, what I felt deeply reminded of, when I reflected on all of the carefully planned, and elaborately and expensively made “death artifacts” is that our life’s experience is really mostly just consequential to ourselves, and to the few people in our inner circle. This realization is freeing. Stop focusing on making an impression on other people. Just be yourself, and be kind, and live each precious moment of your life fully and consciously. Don’t fear death. Focus on living your life.
+ My favorite part of the trip was being with family whom we don’t get to see often at all. (it’s hard, living across the pond, and all) They live by the sea in England, and we took a train out to see them, and even though we hadn’t seen each other in years, the love flowed fervently. We even met children that we had never met before and by the end of the night, we were all hugging and professing our love for each other. We “saw” each other. There is something so special and uncanny about “the family bond.” We even all went to Stonehenge together and I had honestly expected that to be the most spiritual experience of my trip. But it wasn’t. The most spiritual part of the trip wasn’t the cathedrals, nor the choirs singing in chapels, nor the mysterious giant rocks of Stonehenge. The most spiritual part of my trip was a reminder of just how beautiful and strong the elastic bonds of love, hold us all together. Great, loving arms enfold us all. This I know.
It’s great to be back. I love you. I missed you. See you tomorrow!!
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
1488. Do you prefer sporty or academic members of the opposite sex? (Lucky for me, my husband is both.)
Is there anything more precious than your happiest memories? Don’t take the bad memories out. Leave them in the dusty corners of your mind. Open the treasure box that exists in your mind (and always will, no matter what) and think of your favorite memories. Imagine the scene. What was the weather like? Who was there? What were the sights, smells, tastes? Most importantly, what were you feeling? Feel those feels now as you run your happy memories through the reels, again and again. What does it take to make new happy memories? Your treasure box in your mind will always expand to hold these lovely memories. Make the memories. Let them happen. As I always tell my kids, Let Life love you. Go with the flow.
“Memory is the diary we all carry with us.” – Oscar Wilde
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
