writing Archives - Adulting: Second- Half

Thoughts for Thursday

+ I’ve been away from Adulting – Second Half for a little bit, because I was on a trip with my husband. The highlight of the trip was hiking in Zion National Park in Utah. Since our children have grown up, my husband and I have taken advantage of traveling during off-season times, in order to escape crowds and exorbitant prices and long lines at restaurants. I couldn’t recommend going to Zion in February more to anyone. It was delightful and other-worldly and people-ly enough to not feel deserted, but allowing for plenty of personal space to be able to totally take in (and soak in) such incredible, gorgeous nature and scenery. During the spring and summer, Zion is one of the most visited of our national parks and you aren’t even allowed to drive through it. You are required to take shuttles from stop to stop. But in February, you can drive even the most famous Canyon Scenic Drive, and stop as often as you wish to saturate in the beauty of just one tiny, miraculous part our great country/world. If you do choose to go to Zion National Park in the winter, be sure to purchase some crampons for your hiking boots. For those of you like me, who had never heard of “crampons” before, “crampons” is the unfortunate name for stainless steel spikes on rubber bands that you stretch over the bottom of your boots (boots! – not tennis shoes. The people wearing tennis shoes on even the most level of trails were slip-sliding all over the place, as there was plenty of ice and snow and loose rocks on the trails, particularly at the higher elevations. Many of these hikers seemed to be in exasperated peril on the more difficult trails and often expressed deep envy, and some were even desperate enough to offer to purchase our crampons at well-over market prices.) I only purchased our crampons last minute on Amazon (for $25 a set) because I was lucky enough to land on a Reddit thread about Zion where one redditor insisted that you need them. (Thank you, thank you, thank you, dear sweet anonymous redditor! You saved our butts and made us look like total “in-the-know” badasses, as my husband and I, confident as sure-footed mountain goats, strolled past many hikers in their Nikes sliding down the mountain.) The crampons made me feel so confident and sure-footed, on even the most strenuous of our hikes, that I played around with the idea of wearing them every single day, for the rest of my life.

+ Do you ever feel like you are getting clear messages of affirmation from Source/God/Universe that you are on the right path and making the right decisions for yourself? I’ve had that experience this morning. Early this year, I declared to myself and also to my closest family and friends, that I was going to be very attuned to my own needs this year. I asked my loved ones to not personalize me and my choices, because I am choosing to honor that this is an incredibly momentous year for our family, and there are a lot of “feels” that come with this fact. Two of our four adult children are getting married, and our youngest child and our only daughter, is graduating from college and moving to a whole other time zone for a great job opportunity, all in the span of a few months. I feel such a mixy soup of emotions about all of this, ranging from pure joy and ecstasy and pride, to fear and nostalgia and even shock that we are at this stage of our family’s journey. I tend to feel my feels big-ly and deeply and so I must honor and respect my own need for self-care. For me, self-care means that I need a lot of solitude and my structured routine and good sleep and nurturance. For me, self-care means that my boundaries will be firmer than ever, so that I am able to give myself the space for reflection and prayer and processing and feeling. However, being a woman and being a giver/pleaser by nature, this declaration hasn’t come without its own set of emotions, like guilt and vulnerability and fear of rejection and anger from others. So this morning, unrelated to that fact, I started reading random various articles that interested me. The first article was written about Alysa Liu, the Olympic Gold medalist in figure skating, who only recently came out of retirement from competitive skating, after taking time to work on her mental health, in order to better get to know herself outside of figure skating, and to understand her own dreams and visions. ” . . . here is someone who will not comply, who has found her own ebullient, levitating, and self-approving form,” is how The Atlantic describes Alysa. After going through crazy times in her skating career, such as when she was told to not drink water, for fear of gaining water weight, Alysa decided to retire from skating for a bit and to reflect on what she wanted skating to be in her life. “Speaking on her new competitive figure skating mindset, Liu said, “I lived a lot. [I did] everything I possibly could… When I quit, a lot of the toxicity I had attached to skating just, boom, disappeared… When I was a kid, so many people told me who I was and who I wanted to be—there was so much projection. I didn’t have a chance to explore myself, my brain, or my hobbies, but now I have, so I’m feeling really grounded in who I am… When you get older, you can control so much of your life. It’s so much better.” – from an interview with Elle magazine. I watched Alysa Liu’s gold medal winning routine this morning and I immediately understood why she won, besides the physical perfection of it all. When Alysa was skating, she was the epitome of pure joy in the moment. She was embracing and loving every moment on the ice. You could see it on Alysa’s face. You could vicariously feel it. In that moment, Alysa wasn’t skating for a medal, or for approval, or proof of a “comeback.” She was skating in pure alignment with her soul. And the reason why we all identify with that moment is because deep down, we know that we all have those moments in our lives when we know that we are in alignment with our souls and our purposes and there is no better, more reassuring, more alive feeling in the world. She showed us the undeniable physical proof of this and it resonated. After that, I read a compelling essay written by a writer named Nate Postlethwait whose writing I admire, as to why he was choosing to quit all of his social media (in which he had amassed hundreds of thousands of followers) and to focus on only writing on his Substack. “I am taking my life back. I wish I had done this sooner,” he writes. Nate talks about being harrassed by strangers, getting awful anonymous mail, and expectations to address situations which he didn’t feel prepared to, nor interested in addressing. All of the joy that he got from writing and creating was getting sucked away, and he started feeling isolated, misunderstood and even paranoid. “I made the decision to leave social media in October. I made the decision to start writing on Substack around that time, because writing is a creative force for me, and I love doing this work . . . I just need it to be done in a way that supports me as well,” Nate writes in his essay. “I am grateful I am listening. I am grateful I am finally, after all these years, trusting myself to be the gentle guide I have been to others to myself. I have stories to tell, and I have ways I want to tell them where they feel human without being filtered.”

Both of these talented people have chosen to whittle down everything else in order to focus on the individual creative forces that drive them. (Alysa Liu considers skating to be her artistic expression.) Both of these talented people have chosen to remove “the noise” and to be fully in tune with the expressions of their own individual souls. Reading these articles this morning, I felt an affirmation from my Source that I am on the right path for myself. I believe Source was speaking to me in the words of others: ” . . . [find your] own ebullient, levitating, and self-approving form. . . . explore myself, my brain, or my hobbies . . . [get to] feeling really grounded in who I am…I am grateful I am finally, after all these years, trusting myself to be the gentle guide I have been to others to myself.” Perhaps if you are reading these words (and maybe even reading them again), your Source/soul is speaking to you, as well. Perhaps if these words feel resonant, like a personal message or a golden permission slip from the Universe, that’s what they really are meant to be for you, too. Please ponder this. The world would be a better place if everyone was truer to themselves, away from all of the distractions and false expectations and noise.

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

And More for Today

This is my second blog post of today. I’m feeling inspired. I’m giving myself permission to write because writing is one of my most favorite activities in this world. A thought came to me that I immediately wrote on my calendar (as I often do throughout the day, as thoughts of what to write about come to me). It was this thought:

“I can’t love you the way that you want me to love you, but I do love you in my own way.”

Is this statement the truth at the center of so many conflicts and hurts? Is this statement what is needed for true forgiveness of all others, and for one’s self? Sometimes we get so caught up in the ways that we want to be loved, that we forget that in the center of any relationship there is love, quietly and steadfastly beating its heart below all of the noise.

I have felt guilt throughout my life for not wanting to be what others want me to be. Sometimes I have conformed to be what others want me to be, only to later seethe in resentment. Guilt is not love. Resentment is not love.

I have felt frustrated and sad and angry when certain people of certain named roles in my life have not conformed into “being” the love which I expected from those roles. Love does not require others to conform into what I want them to be. Love doesn’t have requirements. Love is. Therefore I believe that forgiveness is coming to this statement:

“You can’t love me in the way that I want you to love me, but I know that you do love me in your own way.”

Now this is not to say that forgiveness means staying in relationships that are disappointing or harmful to you. This is not to say that boundaries should be dissolved nor does it say that you don’t need to work on nurturing and healing your healthy relationships with communication and earnest effort. It’s just taking the idea of “Forgiveness is an acceptance of what is” to a new level. It’s acknowledging an underlying love below all of the layers of damage, and pain, and frustrations, and wanting, and resentments, and sadness and failed expectations. It’s a reminder and a reassurance that at the base of all things in life, there is love. Love is always there. It’s just not a love narrowly defined by you nor by me.

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

Write from the Heart, Right from the Heart

On Friday, on somewhat of a whim, I wrote two long, heartfelt letters to people (and their spouses) who have worked with my husband for a long, long time. Both of these men are retiring from their long, successful careers at the end of this year. And so I sent them each letters and a small gift and then I woke up on Saturday morning with a vulnerability hangover. I get vulnerability hangovers a lot, because I tend to get deep. I tend to get quite open with people whom I care about, and then afterwards I feel kind of exposed and embarrassed for sharing my deepest, heartfelt thoughts. It’s a really sick, scary feeling honestly.

But then this morning, I received a text from my husband whose colleague was “gushing” about my letter. He told my husband that receiving the letter made he and his wife’s day. And at that moment, any ounce of regret and terror I had felt from my vulnerability hangover, vanished with a feeling of happiness that I had risked my open heart, to add love and sincerity to my words.

Supposedly, so much of what we read on the internet is now being written by AI. Teachers have new tools to figure out what percentage of their students’ writings are being written by Chat GPT and others. Apparently, the percentages are quite high. All expectations are is that this is only going to increase.

Still, I strongly believe that as humans, we intuitively know the difference without any tools to tell us. Robots don’t have hearts. Sincerity is hard to fake, even for other humans. It takes two open hearts to feel a true connection. It takes gumption and feeling to be vulnerable with someone, and it takes strength and humility to be able to receive someone else’s message from the heart, and to believe it and to be grateful for it.

When AI started really coming into the news, I think that a lot of us writers/creative types felt a little panicky that we would become obsolete. We started to fear that a vocation that is already finicky, low-to-no paying, and not often highly valued, would become our own hungry ghost – putting our efforts (and honestly, our deep compulsion to write) into the darkest realm of oblivion and obsoletion. But then I remembered some of the most amazing lines I have ever read and they were all written by humans throughout the ages. These lines were all written by people desperate to get the story right. These incredible lines of poetry, lyrics, prose, created a picture for me that connected me to something deep within my own living experience, that only someone who has actually lived a life, can fully portray.

Robots aren’t messy. They aren’t confused. They aren’t sad nor elated. Robots aren’t fearful, because they don’t have hearts. Robots are imitators. They can imitate deep feelings (and some of them are excellent imitators) but they can’t have them. And sometimes, I envy them for that fact. Feeling our feelings is one of the most difficult things that we humans do. To get the best out of our writing, we writers have to open up our hearts and our feelings, and pour them out on pages, watching them bleed outside of us. This is something that a robot will never be able to do.

If you don’t want to be obsolete, don’t imitate the imitators. Be vulnerable enough to be yourself and to share it with the world, through your most intimate creations, whatever form they take. How ironic that soon human creation will be the rare form, as we give way to everything which we know, being engineered by robots. How ironic that we might be entering an age where human-made creations might end up being the most rare, exquisite and valuable conceptions on Earth. The thing that will clearly set your own creations apart is how much of your heart and your soul you are willing to pour into them. Risk the vulnerability. Robots can’t do this.

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

Monday – Funday

I know that I haven’t given the blog the attention that I usually give it these last few days. I’m in a pondering state of mind. It’s like I’ve finally fully accepted that my husband and I are truly empty nesters and now my mind wants to go to all of the “what ifs/what’s next/what do we do with this extra “freedom”/what is my/our vision for going forward.” This line of thinking takes me down many rabbit holes. It’s exciting and daunting and frustrating and interesting and something my husband and I both need a consensus on, in order to go forward with anything. I’ve written about this before, but this is an unsettling time in life, much like any other milestone period. It was mostly a well-defined path to drive the boat down the narrow stream of working, raising the family, limiting our choices to people/places/things etc. that made the most sense for “raising the family” in the best manner for us. Now our boat has landed from that narrow stream to the wide opened up mouth of the Gulf of Mexico. What makes the most sense for us right now? The paths are lot more wide open, and not quite as clear, than they had been for most of our adult lives. Having multiple choices can be formidable. And yet, my least favorite state of mind is “hanging in limbo.” I hate feeling directionless, and yet I know that the pondering and the considering and the weighing of options is vitally important before heading out to sea. Thankfully, my husband and I are yin and yang this way, in relationship to each other. So while we sometimes get really annoyed with each other, we also save each other from too many over-the-top impulse decisions, and yet also from sitting with too much paralyzing indecision, in equal form. We’re good for each other in this way.

And so my dear, wonderful readers, please bear with me in the coming days. Getting around to finally writing the blog this morning has actually been really cathartic for me. (Even though I was really wanting to stay exploring one of my deep diving rabbit holes.) Writing always helps me to see “where I am at”, and it helps to give me clarity. Writing is as good a reflection of oneself as any mirror, if you are willing to be honest and vulnerable with yourself. Writing helps one to “see” any situation more clearly.

To write well is to think clearly. That’s why it’s so hard. ~David McCullough.

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:

2538. What is the most daring thing you’ve ever done?

Monday – Funday

The writer Joe Lansdale says the key to his success is, “I write like everyone I know is dead.” Most writers are told to write about what we know. The famed writer Anne Lamott says this: “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

It’s a tough line that we writers walk. Most of the world lives behind screens and masks and passive aggression and fragile egos. It’s hard to be direct and honest and “say it like it is”, full well knowing that someone else’s “say it like it is” about the exact same situation, may look like an entirely different “is” than yours. Many times, my truth is not the same as your truth (and yet confusingly, these opposite truths can be mutually accurate, all at the same time) And then we’ve got the whole “cancel culture” thing going on. And on top of all of this, we have our natural human beings’ need to be liked and to be loved and to be understood. We don’t consciously want to hurt anyone – even those who have hurt us. And we don’t want to be hurt in the process, either.

This is why journals and diaries are wonderful. This is also why it is also important to get your own personal take on things, out there in the world, in one form or another, even if it is just opening up to a trusted friend. Honestly, the world doesn’t need ten more of the same “Awhoooos” wolf songs in a row. That gets rote and boring and tedious. It feels fake, easy and sometimes conniving and controlling. What I have found, many times in my own life, is that when I am more open and honest and vulnerable in my communication, it seems to give others permission to do the same. And it makes me feel closer to people and it also makes me realize that a lot of all of our “Awhoooos” in all of our different lives, are more similar and relatable than we would have ever expected. And in intimate moments, the next song is called “Awhooo” and instead of rolling our eyes, we all smile at each other and we often nod in appreciation of what we share in common.

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

1325. Do you have any phobias?

Blocks and Cones

I think that the turkey gravy has made its way up to my brain. I’ve got nothing today. I have a lot stirring up inside of me which I haven’t made sense of yet. Sometimes mixed emotions keep the words/thoughts in a whirling cyclone in my head. And trying to force a cyclone to stop and get orderly, just doesn’t work. See you tomorrow. (The good thing about all tornadoes in that they are typically short-lived.)

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

For Your Life

“I think we’re losing something. One hundred years ago, everybody wrote. Everybody wrote letters. Lots of people kept journals. People wrote down the events of the day. Today if you say to somebody you meet, “That’s an interesting story. You should write it down,” their first response is, “I’m not a writer” — and by that they mean that writing now belongs to those of us who do it for a living. I think that’s wrong. I think writing should belong to everybody and I think everybody should write because it’s good for our history and it’s good for our psyche.” – Anna Quindlen

“Being a reporter taught me how to write even when I didn’t feel like writing. People ask me all the time about writer’s block. Can you imagine saying to the city editor, “I’m blocked today”? Being in a newsroom also taught me to write tight, look for telling details, and write dialogue that sounds the way real people talk.” – Anna Quindlen

I didn’t realize that Anna Quindlen wrote a book called Write For Your Life in 2022. I haven’t read it yet, but I will now. Anna Quindlen has always been one of my favorite writers. The quotes above are from an interview that she did last summer, with the The Saturday Evening Post, about the book.

Write. You have a story. It’s a good one. Writing will help you make sense of your story and it will help your friends and your family make sense of you (maybe even after you are long gone). Make yourself write every single day. Sometimes I come to this computer with that ho/hum feeling that I truly have nothing to write about it, but I make myself do it, because I am committed to writing a daily blog, for myself, and for you, my dear readers. It is important to me to strive to be a person of my word. In this way, you help me stay accountable and I am forever grateful for your presence. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Everyone has a story. And it’s a better story than you want to believe. Yesterday, right before dinner, I decided to get a quick nail polish change on my toenails (not a full pedicure, I didn’t want to spend the time or the money – just a quick polish change). The manager of the nail salon sat down and she took only about ten minutes to do my polish change. In this time, she matter-of-factly told me that she had just returned to work after her father-in-law’s funeral. He was of Laotian descent, and he was a Buddhist and she said that Buddhists tend to have long drawn out funeral ceremonies, so she had been to different parts of the service for four and a half days. “I’ve been doing a lot of eating and sitting,” she said. Her father-in-law was a sweet, quiet man, who wanted to please those he loved so when he was diagnosed with cancer, he agreed to do the chemotherapy process, even though he didn’t want to do it. Late this summer, he finally told his family he that was done with partaking in chemo. He wanted to enjoy his last days. Her father-in-law died peacefully about a week ago, after small stay in hospice after refusing a feeding tube. During his funeral planning and service, the manager told me that it was so interesting to see what grief brought out in the different people in her family. The so-called “most responsible” eldest daughter fell apart and wasn’t able to do much of anything. At times they couldn’t even locate her. On the other hand, one of the granddaughters, a busy woman in her early 20s, who hasn’t had much to do with her family at all, became everyone’s rock, particularly for her grandmother, the heartsick wife. The salon manager’s son is in middle school. He considered his grandfather to be “his best friend.” In their Buddhist tradition, as a sign of mourning, the men in the family shave their heads. The manager’s son has a big head with big ears which makes him feel self conscious. Her son is in that emotionally volatile and often mired in insecurities, middle school stage. He was torn as to what to do. Thankfully, the elders in his family, and the elders in his tradition decided that enough men had shaved their heads to honor his grandfather, and they reassured the young man that his job was to honor his grandfather/best friend, in his heart.

In ten minutes, I learned so much. I learned about this woman’s family, and things that I didn’t know about Buddhist traditions. I felt connected to this woman who has painted my toenails off and on throughout the years. I could relate to her heartsickness for being the wife and the mother of a grieving family.

It took me about ten minutes to write the paragraph above. Listen to others. Listen to yourself. Write it down. Write it down, because as Anna Quindlen says, “It’s good for our history and it’s good for our psyche.”

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

A Journey All Its Own

The painting above is called “Mountains and Sea“. It hangs in the National Gallery of Art and it was created by Helen Frankenthaler, a famous American abstract expressionist painter. I started researching Helen Frankenthaler because I read one of her quotes, and it reverberated with me. Here is the quote:

“Every canvas is a journey all its own. There are no rules. Let the picture lead you where it must go.”

The word “canvas” can be replaced by so many other words in this quote and still make so much sense. “Life” works. “Season” works. “Relationship” works. “Vocation” works. I think this is an utterly divine quote.

Helen Frankenthaler also said this:

“I don’t resent being a female painter. I don’t exploit it. I paint.”

To give this quote context, Helen was born in 1928. She did most of her major works in the 1950s-1970s. During this time period, art was still dominated by male artists. Today, we seem obsessed with labels. We label everything, even by giving people labels that essentially mean “label-less”. I think the people who are arguing for and against categorizing people in certain ways, are missing the point. Labeling anything takes away the individual essence of anything. So if anything, we need less labels. The quirky cardinal who frequents my yard and likes to noisily bark at me to remind me to fill my feeder, gets severely limited in the way of his own special individuality when I call him “cardinal” or “red bird.” Of course, he doesn’t give a damn what I call him. He doesn’t “resent being a male red cardinal. He doesn’t exploit it. He flies.”

“What concerns me when I work, is not whether the picture is a landscape, or whether it’s pastoral, or whether somebody will see a sunset in it. What concerns me is – did I make a beautiful picture?” – Helen Frankenthaler

Sometimes friends or family will discuss one of my blog posts with me and they will say “thank you, they really need to hear “such and such message”, and sometimes that message which they supposedly got from my post is a message which is equally new to me, as well. And I am so delighted by this. I believe that really good art, whether it be paintings, or poetry, or dance, is a medium that brings people closer to their own inner selves. Really good art stirs people’s emotions and inner worlds and messages from their intuition like nothing else can do. Really good art makes us more open to exploring what is behind the hidden doors of our spirit. The only thing that I ever want people to get from my writing, is a feeling of understanding and more intimacy with their own souls.

“In relations with people, as in art, if you always stick to style, manners, and what will work, and you’re never caught off guard, then some beautiful experiences never happen.” – Helen Frankenthaler

With this quote, I believe Helen is saying to live and to create with a little imagination and fearlessness. Sometimes you have to change course, add some extra ingredients, don’t get stuck on the “tried and true”, in order to experience magic in your life. Is there anything as cheerful and interesting as a “pleasant surprise”? Or as Helen Frankenthaler says it plainly in this quote:

“I’d rather risk an ugly surprise than rely on things I know I can do.”

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

Automation

Last night, our middle son showed us something on the internet called “ChatGPT”. It’s an artificial intelligence that appears to make Siri seem like an inexperienced child and apparently, ChatGPT is only in its own infant/rudimentary stages. To show us an example, our son asked ChatGPT to write a poem about a lonely turtle. In less than a minute or two, the ChatGPT wrote a four stanza poem that rhymed perfectly and was quite clever and added a lot of details about a forlorn little turtle. Our own kids, who are still college students, admitted that some kids use this tool occasionally to write their required essays. I like to believe that those “some kids” are not mine.

As a writer, I find this new technology heartbreaking. I’ve often curiously questioned technological advances in the past, and their moral implications, but this is the first time something that I am fully passionate about, is being touched by and taken over by automation. Will the kind of writing that I like to do, become some quaint relic from the past? Will we grow to assume that everything that we read in newspapers, magazines, on the internet, and even in books has been written by some algorithm/artificial intelligence? Will anything be original and human anymore, or will everything that we do be handled and created by robots?

My son reminded me that artificial intelligence only works with what we “feed” into it. He said that he could ask ChatGPT to write a poem about a lonely turtle with more of a Shakespearean feel to it, and he reminded me that AI could only do that because Shakespeare existed first.

I fear sometimes our need for perfection. I fear that we worship at the holy grail of getting everything done quickly, easily, and flawlessly. We disdain the imperfections which we find on our faces, so we have filters for that. A machine can do surgeries precisely. Who needs a human touch? Are those science fiction shows about babies being birthed into labs in order to mine them for replacement organs going to really come to fruition?

Sometimes when I write, I think to myself, why do I do this? Everything that I write about has already been written about, by other people, at least 100 times over. But then I remember reading an article by Anna Quindlen, a great writer and teacher, who told her students that we all can write about the same thing, but nobody brings the same “voice or soul” to any one topic. Like fingerprints, each writer has their own intrinsic voice. I believe that this individual voice from each creator/artist/writer is connected to our deepest souls, and that’s something that machines don’t have – they don’t have feelings or passion or a true connection to Creative Intelligence, which is the true source to all things alive and wonderful. Machines don’t have souls. In my mind, Creative Intelligence dwarfs Artificial Intelligence any day. The most beautiful creations in the world, whether they be natural, or manmade, are beautiful because they were created out of passion and longing and feeling and desire. Feelings are messy. They are not perfect. Feelings are jarring, and fleeting, and overpowering, and intense. Feelings are not analytical and systematic and perfect and predictable. Feelings are human. Feelings come from our souls. The best creations in the world come from harnessing the chaos of the fervor and the zeal of our feelings and of our intuitions and of our passions. Intelligence without feeling is aptly named “artificial.” Creative intelligence is as real as it gets. We humans are the channels for Creative Intelligence. I hope and pray that this never changes.

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

Soul Sunday

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

Last night we attended my husband’s annual company Christmas/Holidays party. Although it hasn’t been so annual lately. Due to Covid and whatnot, this was the first Christmas party the company has had in three years. We had a marvelous time. However, since this three year break, I am starting to realize that my husband and I are now fully in the “elders camp” at company parties. All of those older people at business functions that I used to look up to, defer to, feel a little nervous around, and also admittedly, sometimes crank about with my other younger associates, are now “us”. We are the elder people. It doesn’t help that our neighbor’s grandson, and a handsome young man who used to carpool to soccer with my son, in their stinky, sweaty cleats, smelling up my SUV, are now young, energetic executives at this company. The thing is, I still feel like that young woman whom I once was, trying to impress my elders at the company parties. And now that I am “an elder”, I realize how silly and unnecessary that is to do. I just delight in seeing young people making their paths in this world. I’m excited for them and their futures and I realize that I have just as much to learn from them as they do from me.

Okay, that paragraph was a digression from what Sundays on the blog are truly about. (I feel a little distractible today.) Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. When I opened up the computer today, I read this quote from Alan Cohen: “If you feel overwhelmed by responsibility, you have assumed more than what truly belongs to you.” This prompted me to look up some poems written about “lightening the load.” We were up late last night, so I don’t have the bandwidth to write a poem of my own yet this morning. The cobwebs have not been cleared. However these two poems popped up on my search and both of them spoke to me. I hope they connect with you, as well. Have a beautiful, peaceful, meaningful day. See you tomorrow.