Centenarian

I watched a show about the world's oldest people tonight (all over a hundred.) Many were still living at home after a hundred and several were still getting around on their own, walking to restaurants, performing in public singing, or playing an instrument. Most were still very aware of the world around them.

Their thoughts about their longevity varied from it must be God's will, to organic food and exercise, to keep on working (yes, one man still worked!) One smoked and drank all his life, another never did either. A few felt they'd lived too long, most were pretty upbeat people with a sense of humor.

It seems like the people in my family have always thought about growing old. It's almost like they can't wait. I'm not sure what that's about. Maybe because if you are old enough, you finally have the right to do more of what you want without guilt.

My mother died at 58. My father was old before his time, but finally died at 73. Two of my siblings seem years older than the other two of us, but a lot of that is the way they think. I am almost 68 and really don't feel much different than I did in my forties, but I have a lot to live for (and that may be the real secret.)

Had I died at 58 I would never have met Bestest, Some of my best years have been because I met him. He's shown me who I am and helped me find the best in me. That might be the elixir of youth in the end.

Whether I live another day, or another forty years, I hope I take advantage of the time to be happy and useful.

Great!

Positive thinking is, well, very positive!

However, it also needs to be authentic.

I volunteer in a place where the administration has meetings that absolutely glow with positive reports! The top dog oozes enthusiasm and excitement.

What a wonderful thing you may be thinking?

It would be if it were warranted.

It is not.

This kind of positivity is actually detrimental.

It does not lead to solutions for existing problems because they are not acknowledged. It even fosters maladaptive behaviors, because they are glossed over.

Looking good is not the same thing as being good and it is certainly different from being GREAT!

Sometimes it is necessary to suck it up, admit there are problems, and get on with the odious task of correcting them.

Memories

There are things that stand between us and the light.

Invisible things.

Tenacious things.

Things that wrap themselves around thoughts.

Resurrected things that hover in the darkness, darker than the dark.

Slime trails along the edges of life's pathways.

Shimmering mirages, anti-oasis things.

Ephemeral scars no surgeon can smooth away.

Love

Love. Supposedly it makes the world go round. All you need is love. I will always love you.

Children grow up eager to fall in love, be in love, find love.

Adults take vows to love each other forever more.

And then we put all kinds of strings and codicils on loving as if we can legislate it, control it, parcel it out in deserving doses.

Love is not just a wonderful idea. It is not a commodity. It is not a physical act. It can be all those things, but it is so much more.

The most vital love song in the world would be a symphony of every heart beating together with all the tiny nuances and variations adding a depth and richness never before imagined.

It would have the collective breath of every creature inhaling the same air at the same moment and exhaling it in one long sigh of perseverance.

It would exemplify caring without controlling, or owning. Wanting the best for everyone. Choosing the greatest good whenever possible.

Living love is nirvana.

Fairy tale

Once upon a time is really a fairy tale played backwards.

Of course it actually does start in the beginning, but after about the age of three no one really believes it's a fairy tale anymore, so they go on this quest totally clueless about what it's all about.

Quests only last a few pages in books. In life they can last years and years and years.

Sometimes people do not even realize they are on a quest and, sadly, some quests are never finished in quite the same way as fairy tales would have you believe, because the clues are not written on cookies, nor do they generally come in flashing lights on a midnight sky and happily ever after is more a state of mind than something that can ride off on the back of a horse.

There is a huge time lag between living the fairy tale and understanding that it is here. Now. In this moment with the ogres disguised as abuse, or illness, or poverty and the fairy godmothers as pets, and friends, and books, the story is lived one day at a time.

But, if you are one of the lucky ones, some day you will receive a magic shirt in the mail and discover that it goes with a golden necklace and when you put it on and look in the mirror you see a beautiful woman who is living her dream in more ways than she ever dreamed was possible.

And the story becomes personal.

Infestations

Trump is what happens when people begin to believe in magic and wishful thinking and discard hard, cold facts and logic.

Just because someone wants something or the current fad wants to believe in something does not make it sound.

Our president is supposedly a representative of his party and the majority of the people in his country. We are supposed to believe that he has our, or the majority's best interests at heart. We should be able to trust him not to make rash ill informed decisions that might endanger the whole world, if not the planet.

Anyone with any sense at all can see that the only person Trump ever really has in mind is his own quite personal and narrow interest. He likes applause. He likes playing the big shot. He likes forcing people to do his will. If he agrees with you in this moment, that does not mean he will still agree with you ten minutes from now. He flips policies more often than those bubbly pancakes mom makes on Saturday mornings.

The extremists have been crawling out of the woodwork like roaches in a deserted house and the diseases they carry can have far reaching effects.

Our country and its most vulnerable people have never been more at risk than they are right now. Getting people accustomed to hate just opens the door to bigger and more heinous violations of our constitutional rights until eventually there will be none.

That cannot be allowed to happen.

Normal

Normalcy is something I have always craved and yet the ideas of what that is, or was, has varied a bit throughout the years..

Part of it was that we moved at most of the key moments in my life. I never really had a sense of belonging after sixth grade, but part of it was a child growing up in the fifties and sixties watching television where all the kids were from wealthy families in big homes with understanding fathers and perfect mothers guiding them gently through life.

Generations before me grew up hearing mostly local people, singing at church, or school. We saw mostly the top few percent who made it to TV.

My standards were high in those ways and terrified in others. Always pulled out of class to go into accelerated classes, I ached to be "normal." I played in band, or orchestra and wished I both didn't have to play solos and dreamed of being a star singer.

Lots of conflict. All home grown. Mostly homemade.

In the end, I was disappointedly normal. None of those accelerated classes led to exotic degrees, or impressive creations. I grew up to be just a wife, mother, preschool teacher and volunteer.

It is only in retirement that I feel as if I am finally finding myself. Normal now feels like whatever I am doing and while that is not extraordinary or special it is incredibly satisfying.

Ripples

I am the bridge between then and now.

My thoughts. My stories. My memories.

The way I interpret them will create the echoes who will define me in the future.

And those echoes will affect those who hear them.

No one is as isolated, or alone, as they might believe.

No one walks through this world without making ripples.

Define yourself.

Throw your pebbles so that those ripples catch the light.

And the attention of those who have the eyes to see it.

X-ray vision

The most discerning eyes do not see our gender, race, or age.

Their ears do not listen for our perfect mezzo soprano, or rich, deep bass voice.

Their minds are not turned on by the tons of facts our brains can reproduce on command.

Instead they have some super sense, like x-ray vision, that sees right through all these mundane things to the fractals we must be.

What the?

Looking back at the way my eating habits have changed, I realize I am maybe the slowest learner around.

To be fair, I tried eating healthier way back when, probably in my twenties. I went through the push food around your plate phase where I lost a huge amount of weight in the unhealthiest way possible. Then the white bread and sugar phase where I ate a caramel Danish for breakfast and a half baloney sandwich for lunch. And then the no eggs, all protein, no carbs, no coffee, coffee, black tea, green tea, turmeric, etc. fads that pop up every few years.

I visited my son when his first child was born to discover he was a piscatorian (He only ate fish, no other meat.). I watched my grandchildren thrive on mostly fresh food. I ate vegetarian lunches at friend's houses and great restaurants.

I even had a vegan friend who ate no animal products at all and appeared healthier than ever, but her life was incredibly complicated when it came to food.

Not until this last month have I been able to sustain a vegetarian diet for any length of time. With one exception on September 11th, when I found myself in a restaurant that offered nothing meatless on their menu, I have consistently remained vegetarian for 21 days.

It was a choice, but it wasn't.  I tried to make the change for health reasons, but I slowly  noticed that my aversion to eating animals seemed to be growing. It's not that I don't like the taste of good meat, though. It's complicated and I will not say I will never again do that.

I do say that I have not felt this good in years!  I find that I have more energy than I have had since maybe my twenties. And it is not just losing weight. I've done that before without this result, so there is something else going on.

Happiness is

How often are children encouraged to imagine the future, to project where they will be in five years, or ten years, to set goals and make plans for achieving those goals?

I assume there is great value in these things, but I don't believe they really make people happy, in the truest sense.

Happiness comes in a moment, a fleeting moment when a smile breaks across your face, perhaps a shudder shivers down your back and your stomach floods with a warmth equal to that full tummy feeling infants have when they drift off to sleep in their parent's arms.

A life filled with contentment and peace, sprinkled with joyful moments like stars in the sky comes from everyday life. It is the satisfaction of a job well done, a creation well made. It comes from seeing the faces around you wide eyed with awe, or teary with emotions spilling over when words are not enough. It is learning to find what you need where you are.

That doesn't mean not planning for the future. It only means that the future is tomorrow and you must find meaning in today if you want to recognize it tomorrow.

Under the gun

Old mind sets die hard.

I spent most of my life rushing around, worrying that what I did might not be the most efficient, or best way. Trying to conserve time so I could rush around doing similar things in other parts of my life.

It was the way I lived. Even my centering prayer and meditation was inserted in such a way that it facilitated this way of being.

My life was based on the premise that anything less than perfection, including conservation of the earth, my soul, my mothering, my self care was always under scrutiny and coming up short. The briefer my actions were, the less they presented an opportunity for criticism.

Of course there were many downsides, for example: Sitting in the doctor's waiting room waiting a very long time and knowing I was not being proactive and efficient meant that by the time they took my blood pressure it would be sky high.

But I felt I had no choice.

I didn't even consider the idea of a choice until yesterday when I was contemplating going to the post office. I was plotting out the best time to go so that I would not waste time in line when it occurred to me that I really didn't have anything better to do. Why worry so much about this little detail?

I simply went after I had breakfast and showered and got ready in a leisurely way. It turned out there was almost no one there when I arrived, but even if there had been, I was not under the gun to prove my efficiency.

I need to remember this.

Do something

Human beings describe themselves as all heart, or rational to the core, or soft hearted, even canny, but I think it is their tenaciousness that really defines them.

When everything is falling apart; relationships appear to be dissolving; money is insufficient for needs; the world appears to be on the edge of doomsday, human beings tend to find a way to see through it all to the end of a tunnel -- even if that tunnel belongs to someone else.

Minds are set up to use whatever ploy they need to survive until the next moment. And the beauty of that is that everything changes. Just one small tweak opens the door for a new way of dealing with whatever is going on and the value of holding on till then encourages our way of getting there.

Hope really can spring eternal. It can reside on slippery slopes, or between Scylla and Charybdis, but sometimes that's all it takes. Hard choices are still choices.

A life defined by the choices made while clinging to the last shreds of hope can seem more heroic, or more pitiful than it really is, because in the end it was a crap shoot that either worked, or didn't. The important part was that no one gave up without doing something.

Priorities

Sometimes the promise of a day is enormous.

In the first half hour, my bed is made, the dishwasher emptied, the cat fed and the litterbox cleaned.

My coffee is sublime, aromatic and richly dark.

Breakfast is solid and tasty, well balanced and healthy.

I look out the window and the day looks glorious, azure sky with fairytale clouds, my ferns undulating slowly in the breeze.

What should I do?

I have drawers full of clothes that might fit again. Should I try them all on?

My refrigerator needs refilling. I could shop for produce.

The patio needs sweeping, but there are some big bugs out there among the grass clippings.

The kitchen floor could use a good cleaning, but today is Sunday.

Sunday is a day of rest, right? I shouldn't squander it scrubbing floors.

Maybe I'll just spend it gathering thoughts.

Adapting

I hesitate to call what I am doing a diet and yet, the ultimate goal is to lose weight while establishing healthier eating habits.

Sometimes I worry about whether my body is truly healthy, or if I am just very good at overlooking signs of some dread disease.

But I have to say: if my body's ability to adapt is any indication of its good health, then I should be just fine.

In the beginning I cut the calories I was eating by probably two thirds and that was no problem, because I was obviously eating enough for two. Losing nearly a pound every two days was heady! I loved it and it was a huge motivator.

However, that soon ended and as time passed I lowered my calorie intake even more by giving up meat. Once again I lost weight rapidly -- until my body said, "Okay, I can live on less."

I would have preferred to up my exercise, but I am still suffering the results of the statin I took for a month this summer. It left me nearly housebound for a week, which was good because I was also frighteningly confused.

My body has a definite mind of its own, but it is very s-l-o-w-l-y losing weight and I suppose that is healthy and I should be grateful.

I just hope this gratitude helps me stick with it.

Through the looking glass

Dreams are often only in the eye of the beholder, but if that eye is keen enough, brilliant enough, thorough enough, need it be any more?

The line that separates a wild Irish rose from the pathetic little bloom on a country fence is only in the passion of the voice, the lilt of the words, the vibrato of the notes.

The Afghan girl whose eyes haunted the world for decades led a life of poverty,  hard work and trials most of us cannot imagine.

Art does not mimic life. It elevates it. Focusing on one tiny freckle, convincing others it is the most amazing freckle ever.

Should we choose to do the same with our life could there not be a fairytale in the mundane comings and goings of each day's adventures?

Why not choose to live happily ever after rather than plodding perversely on?

Do not allow some magic mirror to destroy the beauty of your life.

Live the fairytale.

Success

I grew up believing there was a certain standard in the world that was expected. Anything less than this was substandard.

Embarrassing.

Humiliating.

I think many of us felt it was better not to start something than do a less than perfect job and there is much to be said for doing things right, but--

In the long run, Bestest has pretty much convinced me it is better to just DO something rather than sit around worrying about getting it perfect.

It is pretty surprising what I can do once I start.

It is the starting that is the truly important part.

Deal with the imperfections later on. If there really is a need to perfect it. I usually find that when I begin doing something the editing takes care of itself. Walking a half mile, or even a third of a mile, is better than sitting in my chair. Eating sensibly at this meal even though I over ate at the last one is the first step in the right direction. Reading a new book till I get sleepy sure beats not reading it at all.

I think the real first habit of a truly successful person is starting!

Family time

"We have to stop at Henry's. I have some yard sale houses for Pam."

"Ryan played in the alumni football game last week. He ended up getting six stitches."

"The wedding is casual, but don't wear jeans."

"Hi, Aunt Linda. I'm good at T-ball, volleyball and baseball. I don't play them, but I'm good at them."

"We put two big new sections on the roof today. There's only a little leak now."

"I can't taste anything with my bottom teeth in."

"My mom is in the hospital, Mom. Can you take me to see her?"

Families are like spiders in the web of every day life.

Change

I don't often find myself unwillingly caught up in strange situations any more. I've had enough experience in my life to recognize the warning signs.

And, having said that, I am noticing some kind of unsettling trends starting in my life.

In June my doctor diagnosed me with Type II Diabetes. I went home, took the pill every morning and looked at revamping my diet. My brother has lost two toes and has all sorts of other problems stemming from this disease. His quality of life is poor at the best.

That first month I cut out most carbs and spaced out my meals to four hours or so,  apart. I lost ten pounds and dropped my blood sugar from 176 to 94.

The next month I continued on and also replaced the chicken in my evening salad with baked chick peas. I lost ten more pounds.

This month I replaced my bacon with a veggie sausage. I still eat an egg and have butter on my toast, but my dreams are plagued with Agee's Mother's Tale and magazine articles about cows crying for their calves who are taken away from them.

Today I bought some almond butter to try on my toast, but the eggs and my yogurt blue cheese salad dressing linger on.  I'm pretty sure they will stay. In fact, I am betting on the fact that I will occasionally still eat meat, but I don't know . . .

It's getting harder.

Prayer

Pray for those dealing with fires in California, Washington, Oregon, Montana!

Pray for those suffering from Harvey and Irma and Jose!

And while you're at it, maybe give some thought to the idea that your god, or the earth is trying to tell you something.

One of the tools human beings have been given, for making rational decisions, is science.

Failure to use that could just end up being the end of an infestation the earth cannot afford to support.

Do your part. Recycle. Waste not. Vote for people who believe in science.

Connections

"Where are you from?"

"Chicago."

"My cousin lives there, maybe you know him."

People are always trying to make connections.

Between people, from the past, even from some little idiosyncrasy that is almost obscure.

Like dogs in the park we sniff around each others lives trying to figure out why the other one is here -- or there.

And often that is our only connection.

Being a goat

I've never understood the term bullheaded.

I have been called it, though and from my experience it might better be called goatheaded.

I've personally met quite a few goats who will bang their heads into a fence, or another goat, over and over. It doesn't seem to matter that the fence never breaks, or that the other goat does not change his behavior.

That is either one very dumb animal, or one optimistic one. (Or perhaps it is just being a goat.)

Humans, on the other hand, should be able to think things through a little better than that.

Life changes. Circumstances change.

Banging your head against the same old thing over and over might not be the best choice you can make.

Dash between the raindrops

The quality of life depends a lot on your frame of mind. I see that so clearly when I look at two people who both figure prominently in my life.

One thinks everything should be celebrated. He grabs life by the collar and shakes the joy out of it.

The other could not tell me what a perfect day would look like if there were no holds barred.

Neither one is a Pollyanna, or a Sad Sam. They just don't look at the world with the same eyes.

I think part of the problem is the way the world is presented to us. It seems everyone on television, or social media is ecstatically happy. They appear to have unlimited resources to do unlimited things without a hitch at the airport, or a cloud in the sky.

But the truth is that almost everyone has to jump a few hurdles or deal with some rain. The trick is to not let that become the only focal point. Learn to dash between the raindrops, or shift your focus a bit and life suddenly becomes less burdensome.

Trying

It's hard to fix something if I don't know what is wrong.

Treating a broken bone with a band aid or a skinned knee with cod liver oil is about as pointless as pretending depression comes from outside of us.

The right medicine isn't always something you can smear on, or swallow down. In fact, swallowing feelings can be one of the things that causes problems.

Finding out what is wrong would seem to be the only answer. And yet . . .

Sometimes it is necessary to approach a problem from the opposite side.

If I can't tell what is making me sad, maybe I should try to find out what would make me happier.

Good advice

I am always seeing articles about what people regret after they grow older.

After much consideration I think the most important advice I would have for younger people is to take as good a care of their bodies as they possibly can. And think twice about people who come at you with the old, "In my day we only did this or that and we're okay."

Of course they're okay, but sometimes they are settling for things it's just too late to change now.

I remember when almost all grandparents had false teeth. They aren't as great as you might think and they are avoidable. Start early. I also remember when we all baked in the sun. It ruins exposed skin!

I was very active until I became a parent and I think that has contributed to the quality of my life now. I wish I had been more active after, but I did still ride a bike and continue to go on the occasional nature hike. Whatever exercise you can do will serve you well.

Eat as healthy as you can.  What, is always the question. The rules seem to change all the time, but it is pretty much a given that sugar should be as limited as possible and everything else should be in moderation.

Sleep eight or nine hours a day. People in my generation often thought that only needing four hours of sleep at a time  put you in the genius category, but I find it mostly just makes them harder to get along with.

Socialize! Even one person in your life will change your perspective for the better. We are not made to live in a vacuum. And don't beat yourself up because someone says that texting, or calling, or writing, is not as good as in person. Having someone to talk to is important, no matter how you do it.

Be creative in some way so your inner side has an outlet and learn something new. Read, watch documentaries, go to classes, or museums, or travel, but don't stop learning.

I believe these are the things that make my life better and at the very least, these are things I never regret doing.

Discernment

Once in a while I will see a photograph that reminds me of what I call a Mona Lisa Moment.

Like the painting, they are rare, but when they occur I could contemplate them for, well, maybe forever.

I like it when someone is caught unaware, their naked thoughts exposed to whoever sees them and yet, further contemplation reveals that those thoughts are absolutely ephemeral.

Are they pleasure? Ego? Amusement? Awe? Bafflement? Cynicism?

And what if it is one of the above, what does that smile say about it?

It is an entire novel in one picture. Truly one of those pictures worth a thousand words.

The way we are

"He likes me just the way I am."

My daughter, talking about her boyfriend.

That knowledge. That freedom. Brings out the best in people.

It lets them be who they are without weighing every word, or believing their worth is measured in pounds, or years, or anything except themselves.

It is one of the things that makes babies adorable. They don't know any better. And while everyone can't just go around letting everything hang out and speaking without thinking, it's very affirming to have a place you CAN do that, at least some of the time.

So, here's to the people who like each other just the way they are!

Real life

Imagine an old Charlie Chaplin film.

He steps out of his car (on the top story of a modern day parking garage,) sees the man who is running the street sweeper and says, "Good morning! Running late today, aren't you?"

The street sweeper looks confused. "How did you know that?" He asks with a slightly British accent.

"Because I usually see you on that building over there and this one is clean.) He answers.

Walking toward the staircase, he sees a man pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket with his right hand and fumbling in the other with his left. As he passes by, he pulls out his lighter, flicks it and lights the man's cigarette without even pausing.

Down in the street, he sees the glass truck. There was a huge crowd there last night as people gathered to audition for American Idol. He stops next to the old window which is propped up against a tree, a large crack running across it and bits of glass still embedded in the glue around the edges. "Did one of the people in the crowd break that last night?"

"Nope," the man replies just as a huge gust of wind blows down the street and the huge pane of glass, leaning against the tree, tips forward.

He steps in front of that giant pane of glass, blocks it with his right elbow and reaches up to grab it with his left hand, saving it from crashing down and splintering into a thousand pieces of safety glass.

He has one small sliver of glass in his finger that he pulls out and blood dripping from a small cut in his elbow, but no pain at all.

And this really happened, in real life, in real time! Except it wasn't Charlie Chaplin. It was my son.