Harmony Designed

Hunkering down

Since we saw no rain in February this year, it seems we’re getting caught up in March.  I love it.  Rainy days are good days to cozy up and . . . well, write, or read, watch a movie, or any number of inside activities.  Rain is insulating, it feels like Nature’s way to say “take a break.”

While the rain is nice and a good excuse to snuggle in, this crazy virus stuff is a whole other thing.  Another reason to hunker down for sure, albeit a bizarre and never-thought-I’d-see-the-day reason.

But reality is what reality is.  Might as well just deal with it.

So, Michael and I have taken all the precautions recommended – washing hands, limiting social outings with large groups, etc.  Other plans have been cancelled for us.  The world seems to be closing down.  On top of that, everything I read focuses on people over 60 being one of the groups most at risk. At first, I didn’t give it much thought.  But it’s been a relentless message, so, it finally hit me.  I’m in one of the groups at risk, merely due to my age!  Crap!

It’s kinda scary.  Even though my rational self knows “this too shall pass,” everything feels uncertain, unstable. So hard to wrap my head around it.  “Is this actually happening? Are we really shutting down our world, or so it seems? Should we worry?”

What to do.

As the saying goes, stay calm and carry on.  Except that the “carry on” part has to be limited and curtailed quite a bit.  Might as well make the most of a bad, truly bad, situation.  Here’s an opportunity to seriously try out that “slow living” thing that always sounds so good and so healthy and so peaceful.  OK, we’ll give it a go.  Stay close to home. Putter about. Work on projects. Catch up on reading.  Maybe a nap or two.  Movies are good.  Try some new and/or favorite recipes. And hey, let’s put up the card table and cover it with a jigsaw puzzle! (Oh yeah, Michael was thrilled with that one.  Not.) 

And let’s be grateful for modern technology right about now.  At least we can easily and frequently catch up and connect with our people.  Talk about giving us a heightened sense of what our priorities are. 

Whatever you come up with to keep yourself healthy, safe, and somewhat entertained, I wish you more of that.  And please share.  

Till next time,

Judy 

A promise made

I promised myself I would publish at least one post in January.  I’ve had lots of ideas and several posts started, only to be shelved into a digital cabinet before it was done.  Something just didn’t feel right.  I started thinking that perhaps I had no more ideas or thoughts left to share and that’s why I couldn’t finish anything.  Poor me.

Then Sunday happened, and like you, we’ve been reeling with disbelief.  The sad news of Kobe Bryant’s death, along with his young daughter, and the others on the helicopter was too much to take in.  Even though terrible and tragic things happen all the time, when it happens to a larger-than-life individual, it brings every tragedy into greater focus and closer to our hearts.  Our grief is multiplied. 

So, our hearts break unrelentingly for all the families, and especially the kids left without a parent, and the young spouse left without a partner.  Our minds keep swirling with the constant precariousness of life.

And we are reminded once again of how precious every, single day is.

When something this horrific happens, it’s hard to think about future plans and dreams, or whether or not we’re having a good day.  It feels too frivolous to complain about insignificant issues or misconstrued slights, or to look beyond today or this very moment.  

Maybe that’s the tiny gem that rises to the surface of such devastating loss.  You realize or remember quickly what truly matters is life itself.  Especially the lives of your loved ones.

Getting older is a gift in so many ways.  First, because there are too many people that never get the chance to grow old – like the victims of Sunday’s helicopter crash.  And then because we see our mortality more clearly with every passing year.  Which, if we’re lucky, gives us pause to take in every glorious, irritating, joy-filled, frustrating and delicious minute of every day of life that’s granted us.

“Find ecstasy in life; the mere sense of living is joy enough.”

Emily Dickinson

So a promise made is kept, but a more important promise of gratitude for every day takes priority.

Till next time,

Judy

Without expectations

That’s what this holiday season has been about for me. No expectations.  And I have to say it’s been one of the happiest.  Without any notion of what it “should” be, I’ve let each day unfold as it comes. In previous years, I couldn’t help myself and I would reflect back on Christmases of the past and try to recreate some of those special times. Of course, it was never the same and I would end up lugging around a load of melancholy that left me with an ache in my heart and missing what was right in front of me.  

I missed my mother so much during those times.  She’s been gone well over 10 years now.  She made Christmas so special for all of us, so her absence is always felt especially deeply during the holiday season. 

This year was different though.  To be honest, I’m not exactly sure why or when I decided I’d had enough of the past. And I was tired of carrying around my own expectations of others in the hope of recreating those old times.  I do know that I took a long, clear look at my life as it is right now and decided that it’s just too damn good to be wasting another minute looking back at what was.  I have a wonderful family and an amazing family of friends – all of whom I love dearly and can’t imagine my life without them. 

When I did that, I felt a release and an unburdening – almost physically.  And what took the place of melancholy was a deep sense of joy and an energy that I haven’t felt during the holidays for quite some time. 

So, it got me thinking. What other joy or connection could I be missing by laboring under an unnecessary expectancy of my own creation? What if I could start to look at each day, event, situation in my life through a slightly different lens? One without any prediction?  It’s a little scary to realize just how powerful the “energy of expectations” can be and the hold it can have on us.  Releasing that is tremendously freeing.

Think about it.  Most of the time, these things are automatic and we’ve only created them based on what we believe is the best way, the right solution, the appropriate behavior.  And boy do we all have them and lay them on each other and our life circumstances. Only to rob us of the joy of discovery. Question: who made us judge and jury?

Instead of those preoccupations getting us closer to our dream life or relationship, we distance ourselves without even realizing it from the ones we love the most or from the opportunities or life that we crave.

And at this stage in life, there’s really, seriously no time to waste with useless judgements or unreal expectations.

The other night, a dear friend of mine said that she felt that her Christmas celebrations would “be sad” this year because of changing dynamics within the family.  My immediate reaction was disappointment for her. But with a little time, I realized that what she was considering sad was again expectations gone awry.  Just because a couple of days were not turning out to be as expected based on past experience, all that was left was to be sad?  

I don’t think so.  

Fortunately, this friend has a loving marriage and a wonderful husband, so no doubt they will rally and create new traditions that are special to them. But in the meantime, her initial expectations were lessening her joy and creating a sense of loss.

Since this “no expectations” experiment of mine has been pretty successful this season, I’m making it an ongoing challenge for myself.  When I feel myself beginning to construct a picture in my mind of what something should be or what I’m expecting it to be, I am promising myself to stop, find my center, take a deep breath, release, and let it flow.

It’ll be a day, or a moment, at a time, but I’m determined to give it a go.  Like I said, there’s really no time to lose.  And honestly, it’s a relief to just be here now (thank you Ram Dass) with no expectations to carry along.

As another great poet of our times wrote “let it be.”  So, I shall.  How about you?

Till next time, I wish you a joyous holiday, filled with whatever happens to be at that moment in time.  No expectations here. (wink and a smile)

Judy

A convergence

I’m about to experience a convergence in my own life.  

First, I am quickly approaching another birthday.

Second, I’m almost at the third anniversary of my retirement.

Third, the end of another year and the start of a new one is just around the corner.

While these events might not necessarily meet at the same time exactly, their close occurrence has me taking a step back to pause and reflect.  Taking a bit of time to absorb the life all around me, you could say.

This time around, however, has me looking back a bit further – more than I have before — at old times, memories, experiences. So many of which had a significant impact on my life, and on me.  This makes me melancholy some days, almost to the point of tears, but with a sweet undertone of gratitude for the experience, and especially for the people that made those memories with me.  

Even more lovely is sharing some of those times with loved ones.  Especially youngers.  We’ve had several days with grandkids and grown kids recently, which gave us lots of opportunities to share a few old memories and lessons.  Grandkids are so inquisitive these days.  It felt good to give old times new life, at least for a moment.

Recently, a friend and I were talking about how often we’re both thinking about past times, feeling them out for any new lesson or perspective they might hold for us.  Sort of an excavation of sorts.  Are there any new lessons to be explored? Any new insights that might apply in our lives now?  

Do you ever feel that urge to look back at different times and experiences and to see them from the perspective of who you are today?  It’s a good exercise in forgiveness – especially of yourself.  Funny how many of the mistakes of the past just dissolve when seen through older, more experienced eyes. And the events we thought of as life-altering, once-in-a-lifetime, never-getting-over-this are barely remembered. Or turned out to be the best thing that could’ve happened.  Hindsight and time are so wise.

This coming convergence of mine is really just a small collection of markers of time.  A birthday, an anniversary, and a shiny new year.  The passing of time and a time to begin again.

In honor of this so-called convergence, I’ll take a moment to reflect and enjoy special times once more, and then move on.  After all, the present is what matters most, and these events call for some celebrating. So, I’ll hold my memories close but my todays closer. 

Till next time,

Judy

Still climbing trees

Updated November, 2019

As I was reviewing past blog posts, I came across this one that touched a nerve for me. So, I thought I would re-post it in hopes that it might do the same for some of you, too.

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First posted April 11, 2017

Last night I was watching an episode of Grace & Frankie (the Netflix series starring Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, Martin Sheen and Sam Waterston). If you haven’t seen it yet, it’s about four older people in relationship to each other in different ways (too long to explain here, but worth checking out).

The two women share a home and are starting a business together. In the episode I was watching last night, they both hurt their backs and were unable to accomplish the simplest of tasks.

At one point, Jane Fonda says to Lily Tomlin “It seems like every day our bodies try to tell us we can’t. But in my mind, I think I can do anything because I’m still a little girl climbing trees.” To which Lily Tomlin replies and reassures her “That little girl is still there. She’s still in you.”

I loved that. It made me sit up and take note . . . literally.

I don’t know about you, but some days my body feels every day of my age. Most days, not even close. And always in my mind I’m still that young girl with dreams and ambitions. Maybe not the one climbing trees (was never much of a tree climber to begin with, give me the monkey bars any day), but definitely the girl climbing her way to new adventures.

The reality is that our physicality changes as we age, and not always in a good way. It takes a bit more effort to keep things in check, and a lot more effort to improve our fitness. So we do what we can and carry on.

For example, I didn’t sleep well last night. Woke up around 2:30 and couldn’t go back to sleep. Today, I’m dragging a bit. When I was younger, this wouldn’t have fazed me. In fact, I could get little sleep for 2 or 3 nights in a row and be fine, then catch up on the weekend. Not now. This is when I feel my years.

With all that said though, our physical self is not who we are. It may have changed in ways we’re not thrilled with, but we should certainly not be defined by the changes.

We are a reflectionof many things, including our mental and emotional states, our values and belief system, our life experience, and our own definition of who and what we are, but not our health status.

Coming from the Boomer Generation, the generation of eternal youth (or so we like to think), aging can be a harsh reality. Never wanting to give up that banner of youthful & hip, we are also the generation, I’m hopeful, that will change the face and expectations of aging.

I know I’m not alone in choosing to be defined by how I live my life, by who and what I love. And by what I give. Not by aches and pains.

I think it is vitally important to keep in mind that as we experience some physical changes that feel like a loss in our bodies, we can supplant them with mental and emotional vigor to invest in new interests, intelligence, experience and savvy to take on life’s challenges and chances, and a loving heart to offer hope and strength to the generations behind us.

“I love living. I love that I’m alive to love my age.” Maya Angelou wrote that. Don’t you love it.  She went on to say “There are many people who went to bed just as I did yesterday evening and didn’t wake this morning. I love and feel very blessed that I did. I love, too, that I know a little more today than I did yesterday, or I simply know it more profoundly.”

Sigh. So beautifully stated.

So while we may not be the little girl or boy who climbs trees anymore, aren’t we now so much more?

Till next time,

Judy