It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.” Is it though? I don’t know about you, but every single Christmas, though blanketed in tradition, has been markedly different. Not better or worse, but different. I have done as much shopping and preparing as I am going to do this year. A lot less than last year, […]
What’s in a Look?
Hope just isn’t a dangerous thing; it’s the most bittersweet part of my midlife journey most days. I’m no longer expecting smooth transitions as I make and experience changes to my life. In fact, I brace myself for a fair amount of sting and hurt as I navigate a meandering journey to self-love (which if I allow myself to be completely honest is really the conscious act of moving away from self-critical behaviors that zap me of energy and opportunities for joy).
Bitter and sweet. They are never evenly balanced. I think that between the two is where the majority of my midlife evolution is occurring.
“I deserve my lollipop and I deserve my toothache.”
~Khayri R.R. Woulfe
#over50andfabulous #midlifewomen #womensupportingwomen #healthybodyhealthymind #writingcommunity #nonfictionnetwork #proagers #writeyourstory #tellyourstory #livewithintention
I’ve been traveling pretty much non-stop since mid-January – caregiving, visiting old friends, making new friends, discovering and uncovering, and above all else, trying to make changes to a life that stole away parts of me long forgotten – and slowly, I’ve become the main character in my story. There have been a fair number of plot twists, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My story might not seem all that interesting to anyone else, but I must say it’s been keeping me excited (often in an unsettling and even uncomfortable way); engaged, and committed to writing and turning a page or two each day.
I’m no longer journaling about a stranger’s life, the woman I had thought lost or who had disappeared altogether. I’m living on the outside, not waiting for life and all of the feelings it conjures daily to happen to me so that I can react. I’m experiencing everything from the mundane to the extraordinary; and for the first time in a very long time, I’m more interested in me and the woman I’m becoming than the woman I was!
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Screw the mid-life crisis
Go have a mid-life spa day
A mid-life quickie
A midlife tiramisu
But whatever you do
DON’T give in to mid-life blues!
-Sanjo Jendayi
#over50andfabulous #womensupportingwomen #midlifewomen #nonfictionnetwork #healthybodyhealthymind #chooseyourself #becoming #womenwhowrite
One of my favorite people in the world is another Scorpio sister; she and I met nearly two decades ago when I was teaching middle school English at a small private school. I had the pleasure of having her son, a quick-witted and vibrant young man who has since made his way in the world fearlessly and whom I am proud to call friend. Both my soul sister and her son –actually, the entire family including her husband (the “punniest” man I know), their fur baby Lua, as well as their eclectic and completely welcoming groups of friends – have expanded my world in myriad ways, but no way greater than sharing their deeply-seated love of exploration and their zest for living and loving fully.
While my friend and her husband have been in Europe on another adventure, they graciously offered me their home in the Pacific northwest (dog, plants, and roses galore). “Work” never feels like work when I’m on an adventure of sorts. From learning to use an electric mower to visiting Williamette wine country to outings where food, beverage, and above all else laughter were abundant, the months of September and October to this point have been full. My soul is lighter. My heart is fuller. My mind is clearer. And for more times lately than I can remember, I have felt like I – just me – am enough. If truth be told, I might even be too much in the very best ways.
I’m making memories, satisfying curiosities, and challenging myself most days. Those days, these days, are indeed sublime. Life itself has been challenging most of the past six decades. I’m going to challenge it back!
“Like wildflowers, you must allow yourself to grow in all the places people thought you never would.”~E.V. Thompson
“Hello there, my truest friend,”Sylvia says as she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror. She walks away and then turns around quickly to catch another peek. Not satisfied with a quick glimpse, she leans in over the bathroom sink and takes a closer look. “Yep, it’s me, not still me or the same me,” she assures herself, breathing a sigh of relief. She exhales forcefully directly on the mirror, and as it fogs, she embraces the prospect of not knowing who she is becoming and points to her reflection, “Let’s just keep you and everyone else guessing. After all, who doesn’t love a good surprise?!”
This is the time. This is 60. Sylvia has been celebrating, not just this milestone, but all of the “stones” that she has gathered en route to this point. She has collected, built, torn down, resurrected, rebuilt, resurfaced, and has only one thing left to do: love every bit of herself.
She has not made a million dollars of her own, but she has learned that all the money in the world will not bring her happiness.
She has not published her first book or her second –yet– but she has written them. Will this be the year she shares? She does not know, but she does know that the chapters she has written are originals and all her own. The words and thoughts she has penned on paper and those that remain indelibly fixed in her memory are HERS.
She has not lived according to her own rules, wants, or desires, but she has valued all of the time and energy she has put into making others happy and their dreams come true. Now, she has time and will try to give herself the same respect, attention, and love she has given others.
She has not been kind to herself; she accepted so much less from others and from herself that she came to believe that she could be fulfilled and happy enough with leftovers and crumbs. Perhaps she has not recognized her worth. She has become more aware that the love and value that others have or don’t have for her don’t mean a damn thing. In the end, she has to live with herself, for herself, and move forward believing in herself.
She has not reached her expiration date. She has only just begun.
All that she has not accomplished and not achieved are of little importance. She has survived. Right now, she has more to do, more love to give, more laughter to share, and more to learn. Right now, at this very moment, she has compassion and love and belief – for herself and in herself. This is 60. This is where she begins. She’ll share who she is without fear of judgment because this is what she has and who she is becoming.
This is her time.
“Are you looking for trouble, Sylvia?” Erma, hoping for a juicy reply, asks her friend.
“No, I don’t think so. Well, perhaps – maybe a little,” Sylvia admits.
“Good, get out there, and do it for the team!” Erma adamantly encourages.
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Whatever you choose, however many roads you travel, I hope that you choose not to be a lady. I hope you will find some way to break the rules and make a little trouble out there. And I also hope that you will choose to make some of that trouble on behalf of women.
[Commencement Address, Wellesley College, 1996]
~Nora Ephron
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“Erma, I’m always so damn emotional,” Sylvia concedes derisively.
“You are emotional because you feel deeply. All strong women do!” contends Erma.
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“A strong woman is one who feels deeply and loves fiercely. Her tears flow as abundantly as her laughter…”
(Native American saying)
Sylvia spent most of the day purging. Dresser drawers of mismatched socks and threadbare pjs. Closets of dresses and outfits that no longer aligned with her body or attitude or both. And shoes. Ah, yes, more than a dozen pairs of shoes that were gently worn, overworked, or had never made it onto her feet. She made room in her physical space; and at the end of the day, she felt her mind might actually have some room for fresh thoughts and ideas, too.
Erma rejoiced at the news and praised her friend for finally shedding some weight. “Now that you’ve scaled back on things, scale back and free yourself from people. Reduce your tribe to those who feed your soul, those who accept you without condition, and those who don’t run from your tears and sorrow. You need to be more discerning when it comes to who knows your secrets,” Erma cautions.
Sylvia, priding herself on the headway she made today, sighs. She knows that Erma is right. She has allowed those with no true interest in who she is becoming to stay and weigh in. “Tomorrow. It begins tomorrow. A smaller inner circle and more attention to the person who deserves my attention the most. Me!”
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Solitude and loneliness are not related. The former celebrates the peace and contentment she gains from her own company. The latter reaps strength and rears its ugly head when she makes herself smaller for others.
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“Solitude does not necessarily mean living apart from others; rather, it means never living apart from one’s self. It is not about the absence of other people—it is about being fully present to ourselves, whether or not we are with others.” ~ Parker Palmer
“Hitting Black Friday sales today, Sylvia?” Erma asks her friend, even though she already knows that the two of them made a pact long ago to swear off malls, grocery stores, and shopping of any kind the day after Thanksgiving.
Sylvia, almost choking on her coffee as she entertains the gruesome thought and visualizes the throngs of overzealous consumers, replies, “I stand by the agreement we made long ago, Erma. No shopping on this day. Not even online. I’m offline and out-of-network. Simply being is more than enough today.”
“Just wondering if you needed me to remind you that it will all be there tomorrow. I’ll save you a place in line then if you wish,” Erma assures her.
“Don’t bother. Not this year. Hopefully, you’ll never have to wait and hold my place for me again. I’ll always accompany you, walk alongside you, and then commiserate with you ad nauseum about how stupid we are leaving holiday shopping until December, but you’ll not need to hold a place for me. I’m claiming my own space. Wherever I go, Whatever I do, and whenever I need to remind myself of where and to whom I belong — I’m on my way home and making my own space for anything and everything along the way.”
Erma, beaming at Sylvia’s words of confidence and tone of determination, declares in an equally committed voice, “No sales ever. You own your space, and you paid full-price. So worth it, Syl. So worth it.”
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The world belongs to you as much as it does to anyone else. Claim your space.
#midlifeblogger #womenwriters #livewithintention #unapologeticallyme #fullprice #bornworthy
"ARE YOU THERE, ERMA? IT'S ME, SYLVIA." 