middle age Archives - Page 117 of 205 - Adulting: Second- Half

The Best

I always say that the things that I worry about rarely happen. I tend to get blindsided by the things that I never even imagined could happen. I have to admit that I never saw a worldwide pandemic coming. I never did.

I also have to admit that I have never fully imagined all of the amazing things that have happened in my life either. True story: At age 40, I was at a time in my life that I assumed I would feel like my husband and I had “made it”, for all of the effort that we had put into our shared lives, by growing my husband’s career, and by focusing on raising our happy family. Instead, our lives got “blown up” by the Great Recession. We checked every box: lost job and income (banking industry), large, expensive home now worth half of what we owed on it (with no buyers in sight), quickly emptying savings and quickly rising debt, and four young children left to raise, and to educate. Instead of feeling like I was at my pinnacle, I felt like I had been thrown into a pit. I was shell-shocked. I was scared out of my mind and I was angry. I felt cheated and wronged. I had lived “the formula” that I had assumed would bring me “overall success” and it had tanked, miserably.

Thankfully, I have always been a faithful, spiritual person (not necessarily a religious person), but I am one who believes that there are much higher powers in play. I have always believed in the overall goodness of the Universe. And so I leaned heavily on my spiritual side, at that time. I also leaned heavily on my love for my husband, and for our children. I realized that we had lost a lot of material, physical things, but I was not going to let the horrible recession take what was most dear to me: my marriage, our loving family situation, and our physical and emotional health. So, during that time, I prayed a lot, I leaned a lot on our loving family and friends, and I lived every single day in faith. I just took my life ODAT (one day at a time). I am not going to go into “the ins and outs” of it all (nor into the ways that situations often seemed to almost miraculously turn out for the best), but let’s just say at age 50, I now have the life that I always dreamed of, and more. Everything that we lost, has been replaced with something “more and better.” And because I went through that experience, I appreciate everything more than I ever did. Life is deeper and clearer to me. Life resonates like it never did before. I am so much more attuned to what truly matters to me. It’s a cliché, but I can honestly say that I am grateful for the changes that the Great Recession brought around for me, and for my family. The Universe knows what it is doing.

Now this is not to say that my life is “perfect”. There have been a lot of heartaches, and losses, and growing pains, and grieving of many people and things, throughout this past decade, but I understand that this is just part of living and experiencing a worldly life. I do believe that the life that I am living is “perfect for me”, flaws and all. I just tell my Higher Power to take over the wheel every single day, and I live in faith that the journey that I am on is wonderful (even on the days that it doesn’t feel like it). In its own way, my own little path is a vital part of every other journey on Earth that has ever happened, or will ever be. When I look in the rear-view mirror of my life’s journey, it makes sense to me, for the most part, and I am grateful to be experiencing my journey. My journey is a gift. And I can’t wait to see what’s on the path ahead of me now.

Always, always believe that the best is yet to come, because it is. It might not arrive in the package that you expect it to arrive in, but that’s good. I have been blindsided by happy surprises in my life, far more often than by pains. And if I am honest with myself, the pains have very often turned out to be “blessings in disguise.”

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

Everything Parent

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

This past weekend, my husband and I took a short flight (versus a 5.5 hour drive) to celebrate with our son as he got his “white jacket” from his medical school. In my experience, the airports are indeed crowded, the flights are full, and quite honestly, no one was being a jerk. Everyone wore their masks. Everyone was polite and patient and aware of keeping as much social distance as possible. Even when we were all boarded on to a plane headed home, and then after a stuffy, 45-minute wait on the airplane, when we were told that we would need to exit the plane because there were engine issues due to a bird strike from the previous flight, everyone, on this totally full flight, quietly took it on the chin. No one complained, not even the woman whom I overheard telling her children that their connecting flight got changed to the next day, and that they might have to spend the night in the airport. “It is what it is,” I heard her say to them.

Now luckily, they found us a new airplane almost immediately. My husband and I were just flying home, so instead of getting home mid-afternoon, we were going to arrive home in the late afternoon. No big deal. My husband and I weren’t too worked up, but there were plenty of people who were going to be missing events and connections, from conversations that I overheard. Yet, people seemed genuinely patient and understanding and “rolling with the punches.” This struck me as a new and unusual experience. When I have experienced these types of scenarios in the past, I can remember hot-headed, angry, red, vein-bursting faces screaming at the gate agents, impervious yelling, tears, and overall, just a much higher level of entitlement and “woe is me” from the crowds (maybe even sometimes from myself?!). It was noticeably different this time. Could this be a good thing that has come from this pandemic? I suppose that I could have just been flying with a particularly peaceful group of people, but part of me thinks that there is something more to my experience. Perhaps like many terrible events, this pandemic has brought to us much horror, but yet also, it has given to many of us, the gift of perspective and camaraderie. We are all in this together. We are doing our best. Despite all of the pain and hardship and negativity, we are making it through, and the things that we used to take for granted (such as flying), we are just so grateful to still be able to experience them again, even when there are blips involved. I felt quite hopeful about humanity after this experience.

And now this:

Moms, I also had a touching and heartwarming experience on this very same flight that will show you that perhaps what this child really means, in the above tweet, is that Mommy is her favorite “everything parent.” As my regular readers know, I am an ashamed, yet admitted eavesdropper. ( I think that most of us writers are – it’s part of observing life.) On the flight mentioned above, seated ahead of me, across the aisle from each other, were two attractive twenty-somethings, one male and one female, casually chatting with each other, for the first time, from what I could gather. They young man had a large scar on his arm and he told the story that he had been in a horrible car accident, that had put him into the ICU for eleven days. He had gotten the scar from the accident. People had told him to put a tattoo over it, but he said that he liked the scar. It reminded him about how fragile life really is, and how important it is to treasure life. The young woman had a similar story related to an inoperable problem with her foot that made it impossible for her to play the sport that she dearly loved. (I didn’t hear what the sport was, but it wasn’t volleyball, because he asked her if it was “volleyball” and she laughed and she said that people always ask her that because she is so tall. I was about to ask her, “Well, what sport was “taken” from you?” but then I bit my tongue, because of course, I couldn’t ask that, due to the fact that I was eavesdropping. That’s rude to interject like that, especially when you are eavesdropping.) Overall, these two young people had amazing attitudes and I was more than impressed with both of them and their lovely conversation. (and I was kind of hoping for a romantic charge between them, like in the movies, but that was not to be.) Instead, the young woman thanked the young man for a wonderful conversation and she told him how inspired she was by his story. He said, “Thank you. I really owe it all to my mom. She has given me so much encouragement and insight, all of my life.” The young woman decidedly replied, “Yes, my mom is the same way! I don’t know what I’d do without her.” And then she smiled at him, and then turned to her book, and their beautiful conversation ended.

And I sat there in my own seat, with a big smile on my face, and a glow in my heart (and a couple of tears in my eyes) because I thought to myself, there are two lovely, wise women out there who have raised two incredible, and kind, and positive people, and these moms are getting all of the credit and unabashed glory, and they don’t even know it. Sometimes, throughout the years, motherhood can feel like a “thankless job”. This I know. But moms, I heard your children’s genuine gratefulness for you, on just a random casual weekend. And I, a perfect stranger to you and to your children, felt genuinely grateful for the promising young people that you have raised to share a world with my own dear children. I deeply echo your wonderful children’s words. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” You are my favorite “everything” parent.

Monday-Funday

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

“Best first day of school photo ever!!” – Rex Masters (Twitter)

“So long, partner.” – Woody, saying farewell to Andy in Toy Story 3

Don’t you just love how little kids’ backpacks are almost as big as they are? And this sweet little boy has the matching Marvel lunchbox, to boot! He’s ready to go!

I’ll never forget the day that I saw Toy Story 3 in the movie theater with all of my children. Toy Story 3 is about when the main character, Andy, is now all grown up and leaving the nest for college. My eldest son was 14 at the time, and this was honestly the first time that it really, completely hit me, in an deeply emotional sense, that all of my four children were going to leave our house, for their own adult lives, someday, too. (It certainly didn’t help that on that very day, I had also found out that close friends of ours were moving several states away. Little did I know at that time, that our family also would be moving away to a different state, soon after. Isn’t it funny how life works?) Anyway, the loss and the melancholy that I was feeling while watching Andy say good-bye to his Mom and to his beloved toys, was a tad overwhelming. I remember burying my face in the popcorn bucket, praying that my kids wouldn’t notice my tears and choked sobs. That buttered movie theater popcorn, probably tasted extra wet and salty that day. And hopefully, extra delicious. (It was coated in love.)

I have sort of gotten used to the good-byes, and the new starts, these days. (as much as a mother can) Last week, I helped to move our youngest son, who is a college student, into his fraternity house (It was easily the cleanest that I’ll ever see that place.) He’ll live there all year. It was also my daughter’s first full week of her senior year in high school, and this past weekend, we celebrated the start of my middle son’s medical school experience with his “white coat ceremony”, where he got his “official” white coat with his name embroidered on it. My eldest son, who is a grown adult living on his own with his great job in the technology sector, graciously helped to cheer on his younger siblings, as he always has done. Our eldest son has always been an amazing “lead dog.” So this was my long winded way of saying that our family is finally settled into our fall routine. And that feels really good to me. As a woman who has been a mother for twenty-five years, I’ve learned to live by the school calendar. I like to feel settled into a routine. I feel like I can breathe more soundly now, knowing that each of my children has “a place, and a plan.” Fall always feels more secure and organized than summer. I welcome the change that fall brings to me and to our family, after experiencing hot, adventurous, lazy, and sometimes even erratic summers. Summer can be scattering. Fall is formulated. I welcome the sense of order and structure that Autumn brings back into our lives. I wonder when all of our children are completely on their own, if I will still experience the change of seasons, and how it affects my daily routine, as profoundly as I do now? It will be interesting to see.

“But the thing that makes Woody special, is he’ll never give up on you … ever. He’ll be there for you, no matter what.” – Andy, sharing with his mother about Woody’s importance in his life.

Soul Sunday

Hello, my loveys. Welcome to Sunday. Aren’t Sundays wonderful? They are such a reprieve from the craziness of the week. Even people who work on Sundays, don’t typically seem to have to work as hard as they normally do. The hours are lighter, as are the expectations set. (except if you are a church leader, I suppose, but I have to believe that religious leaders are living their passion and purpose, rendering the word “work” pointless, in a way). I think that Sundays are our weekly “reset button.”

My regular readers know that I devote Sundays to poetry here at the blog. I consider it a “poetry workshop” day, where I play around with writing a poem, or sometimes I share a poem, written by another poet, that has moved me or piqued my curiosity. Spend some time with poetry today. Read it. Write it. Or perhaps, just for this Sunday, make your own life to be a little bit of poetry in motion.

I recently found this poet, Rebecca Elson, and I think that her poetry is amazing. I particularly like this poem that I have shared below. I was recently reminded that we walk in the sky. We walk in the atmosphere. I remember when I was a little kid and I would draw the blue space of the sky way above my stick figure family’s head. My art teacher reminded me that the sky starts right on the ground which we walk on. So, I suppose, in a way, we walk among the stars of the sky, every day and night of our lives.

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

Captains and Beacons

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

This has been a week when me and many of my friends have helped our children move into their college dorms and apartments. Two of my closest friends from college have taken their daughters to the same university that we, ourselves attended. Two of my dear friends officially became “empty nesters” yesterday, when they dropped their youngest children at their college dormitories, and then headed back to their own nests without their babies in tow. My friend sent this text from her social media, that got to me, right in the gut. There is just so much truth in this statement.

“To all my fellow empty nesters – just read this . . . . “For years you were captain of the ship – now you are a beacon of light on the shore.”

Friday’s in the Bag

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

Happy Friday! Happy Weekend! On Fridays, I typically keep things on the “worldly” side. Usually on Fridays, I list three of any kinds of my favorite stuff: products, books, make-up, websites, songs, etc. Please check out my previous Friday listings for more favorites and please add your own favorites to my Comments section. I have had a busy week, and I still do have a lot on my plate, so for today, I only have one favorite to share.

The other day, when I joined my husband on a drive to his most favorite bike store, I found an adorable, old-fashioned, delicious little bookstore, right around the corner to peruse instead, while my husband was in the bike store. (He likes bikes. She likes books. He likes beers. She likes baubles and bags. They both like boats and bands and most of all, their babies. In short, they support each other’s B—S.)

In this little heavenly bookstore, I purchased this adorable tote bag:

Front:

Back:

I looked at the tag on the bag, and the tote is made by this company: outofprint.com

This website is truly a bibliophile’s dream come true. You’re welcome!! Enjoy and find some new favorites to treat yourself to, this weekend! See you tomorrow!

Another NHP

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

I think that the blog could use another light-hearted “no horse pucky” story, so here it is:

Earlier this week, I had my annual OB/GYN appointment. (this is the point where I lose most of my guy readers – I understand) When the nurse took my blood pressure, it turns out that it was slightly elevated. Now typically, I have really good blood pressure. Once, when I was giving blood, my blood pressure was so low that the nurse taking my blood quipped, “Are you dead?” Knowing this about myself, I implored my gynecologist’s nurse to take my blood pressure on my other arm. It still came up a tad high. Now, truthfully, the nurse wasn’t all that concerned, and neither was the doctor. I wish that I could say that this indifference was the same for me. I had just drunk a bucket’s worth of coffee right before the appointment, and I admittedly, was a little nervous about my appointment, in the first place (despite being 50 years old and having given birth to four children, they still have to beg to me “scooch down a little further, come on now, just a little further” to the edge of the table, every single time). Coffee intake and “white coat syndrome” are known to cause elevated blood pressure. I know this. I have experienced this before. But still . . . .

After the appointment, I headed to the grocery store. I had tried to put my “higher than usual blood pressure” out of my mind, but the truth is, I was sitting in the meat department, staring at my phone, and “telemedicine-ing” with Dr. Google. I once had an employer who was a neurotic, blood pressure fanatic. “I can’t let myself stroke out!” she would emphatically shriek on a weekly basis, putting her hands up to her neck and sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth (this is completely true – no horse pucky). Truth be told, standing in the grocery store, I was starting to freak out, that I was in fact, “stroking out”, with the visual of my previous boss growing exponentially in my mind. This is when I decided to calm down and to sing along with the grocery store music, and to focus my mind on the seven or eight items that I needed for dinner. I didn’t even grab a shopping cart. I just winded around the grocery store, juggling bread, and fish, and a bag of salad and few other items. Then, I passed the pharmacy department. This is when I got an “aha” moment or perhaps divine intervention, when I laid eyes on their glorious blood pressure monitoring machine.

There was a woman sitting by the machine, and there were two empty seats on the opposite side of the blood pressure monitoring machine. “Oh wow, are we still allowed to use this?” I asked the woman who was sitting by the machine and who must have been waiting for a prescription. I was concerned that Covid may have rendered the machine untouchable, but I didn’t see any yellow tape or Mr. Yuk stickers on the machine.

“I think that you can use it,” the lady by the machine said. (not that she really had any kind of authority on this, but I was happy to take her word for it.)

I was thrilled. I dumped my pile of groceries on the empty chairs on the opposite side of the machine, and I sat myself decidedly and comfortably, in the plastic throne of the blood pressure monitor. It is then that I decided to close my eyes, and I took five long, deep breaths to center myself. I put my arm in the cuff, and I put my mind in Nirvana. When I opened my eyes, I was delighted to see that my blood pressure was 117/73. It was such a gratifying, comforting relief to see those numbers on the screen. I turned to the woman waiting for her prescription and I smiled and I bragged. She nodded kindly (we both had masks on, but I am pretty sure that she was smiling and happy for me). Then I turned to the chairs, in order to grab my groceries, but alas, they were gone. The chairs were empty. No groceries. Nada.

“My groceries are gone! Where are my groceries?!” I asked the lady waiting by the machine.

“Oh yeah, a worker did come by and pick those up,” the lady said, non-chalantly.

“What?!” I looked at her astonished and perplexed. I could feel my blood pressure rising exponentially, at that very moment. But then, I decided it just wasn’t worth my health and my sanity to pursue any further conversation with this woman. I went around the store and I grabbed some more groceries. I did end up tweaking what I decided to purchase, though. I substituted a bag of chocolate chips for the fish. If I am going to stroke-out anytime soon, I want to make sure that I really enjoy every last bit of my life. My prescription for myself: More chocolate, less panic. (but wait, chocolate has caffeine in it, too, right?!)

Tall Mountains and Starry Nights

When we are taking our evening walks, my husband often talks about how wonderful it would be, to gaze at all of the stars at night, if we didn’t have so much light pollution. Scientists have figured out that there are about as many stars in the sky, as we have grains of sand on all of the Earth’s beaches. That hardly seems possible. But when I saw this picture, the possibility became more real:

Photos of Silk Road on Twitter: "A starry night in Bamyan, Afghanistan, Silk Road. http://t.co/diSn3l6Ozt #silkroad http://t.co/42zppkwZpU"

This is what a typical starry night looks like in Afghanistan. When I stumbled upon this picture, I could hardly believe that it was real, and I was equally aghast at where it was taken. There are thousands of pictures on the internet of Afghanistan’s beautiful, starry nights.

Haiti Travel Guide - Beach Travel Destinations

This is a picture of a beautiful land that was the first land in the Western Hemisphere to abolish slavery, sixty-five years before the United States did the same (which, when you think about it, is equivalent to practically a whole generation of freed people). This is a stunning picture of Haiti.

Where there are people and places on this Earth that are deeply hurting and full of fear, we can pray for these people and places, and we can give to honest charities that are helping the innocent people in these places, but we must also hold these innocent people and these places in high esteem, so that they remember how truly amazing and beautiful and strong and unique and needed, they are in this world. In order for anybody, or anything, to rise from the rubble, to overcome grief and pain and fear, they must have hope. Hope comes from an intrinsic belief in oneself, and our individual and our community abilities to rise from any challenge. Hope is a beacon of light that we must keep as bright as the starry nights of the darkest night in Afghanistan. Hope gives the overreaching views from the summit of the tallest mountain in Haiti, Pic la Selle (the third tallest mountain in all of the Caribbean islands), by showing the country in a whole different perspective – a God’s eye view, perhaps.

Hurt people hurt people. Many times hurting people have lost the innate knowledge which hope gives to the rest of us. Hope is knowing that we are so much more than what our little, naked eyes see, and what our computer-like, analyzing minds like to process in roundabout, insolvable puzzles. When we look and we gaze upon others, as if they have the power of the greatest Love inside of them (because they do, we all do), they are reminded of just how truly amazing and powerful they actually are, when they take off the shackles and the shrouds of their own warped perspectives of fears, and of isolation, and of helplessness. We must help the hurting peoples and lands of our world, with acts of kindness and charity and compassion, but we must also gaze upon them with a knowingness that helps them to remember of just how incredible they really are, and what amazing feats they are capable of, and that their intrinsic worth is their birthrights, from the moment that they took their first breaths as innocent newborn babies. We must remind them with our wise knowingness, that when the Love inside of them is made the only leader in all that they do, they are eternally invincible and full of hope. In the meantime, to hone our own skills, we can practice this wisdom on ourselves and on those right around us. Let’s let Love lead the way in all of our lives. Love has all of the answers. Usually it’s easier to remember this fact, when gazing at the stars, or looking all around at all of the magnificent views from the tops of sturdy mountains. That’s because when we gaze at the wonder of the stars and of the mountains, we are looking at them through the lens of our deepest Love. Let’s try using that lens on everyone and everything. Imagine the beauty to behold!

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

A Few Dos and Don’ts

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

In light of working on my self-care, I have yet another routine annual health appointment this morning. (All is going well, and I think that my body appreciates the love and attention. Self care goes beyond just getting your vaccinations, friends.) Therefore, I am borrowing from other writers/creators this morning.

My husband and I were watching Vikings last night and we stopped the show and rewound the scene depicting this quote by the Viking, Ragnar Lothbrok, several times. With all of the turmoil and chaos happening around the world these days, this quote speaks the truth like no other:

“Power is always dangerous. It attracts the worst and corrupts the best . Power is only given to those who are prepared to lower themselves to pick it up.”

And this is my favorite chapter from the excellent book by Matt Haig, called The Comfort Book:

And I will end today’s post with an amazing truth spoken by an incredibly inspiring woman. Despite getting “the golden buzzer” on America’s Got Talent for singing a beautiful song that she wrote herself, she recently had to drop out of the competition because her body is being ravaged by cancer. Here is a link to her performance of “It’s Okay” by Jane Marczewski, also known as Nightbirde:

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you decide to be happy.” – Nightbirde

Soul Sunday

Hello, loves. I am happy that you are here with me. Welcome to Soul Sunday. On Sundays, I wax poetic. I write a poem or I share a poem by another poet. I think that poems open you up to your own soul better than any other kind of writing. Poems often bypass the analytical mind and head straight to the heart. Here’s your assignment: Write a poem today. Just start writing. You may be amazed with what talents you possess! You will feel better and clever and mysterious and interesting. You will feel more connected to your deepest self, and that is a wonderful way to start a week.

The Course

The Teacher arrived and opened his familiar, worn lesson book,

I winced, but The Teacher smiled and asked me to take another look.

I thought that I already mastered the lesson (many times before).

But The Teacher reminded me that there is always something more.

The Lesson is always the simple, solid same, but the learner is ever shifting.

The learner comes with new, fresh eyes to grasp what The Lesson is now gifting.

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