BASIC TRAINING

I am of the opinion that Son One and his family absolutely did not need to "rescue" a mixed breed (Blue Heeler/Lab) puppy from her apartment-dwelling family who is moving and could not take the pup along, but my teenaged granddaughter pleaded the case convincingly enough to her parents who were ambivalent, but ultimately willing.  Had anyone asked me, I'd have pointed out all of the very logical reasons this would not be a good idea.  They did not ask me.  

I went this morning to meet this new member of their family.  Yes, Sammy is very, very cute; very, very sweet.  She is also only 12 weeks old, already big (!), and only partially housebroken.  She also seems to be sadly under-socialized to new people, although her best friend at her former home was a cat, so I believe she is redeemable given her good taste in choosing friends.  (She was less enamored by the older dog in the family, so again, I am pleased to report she is a "cat" dog, not a "dog" dog.  We have that in common.)

I rang the doorbell, but heard no bark.  Odd.  I was let in and saw her at the top of the stairs near my granddaughter's bedroom where she stood peering anxiously down at me.  I called to her and she turned away to find my granddaughter -- her "safe place" so far, I guess.  I had, as all grandmas do, brought treats, but this didn't really entice her either until my younger granddaughter coaxed her down the stairs with treats in her hand, but still Sammy wanted nothing to do with me. 

I took a less forward tack and ignored her.  I sat on a dining room chair and pretended she didn't exist while I chatted with the humans.  She eventually made her way to me, giving me a bit of a sniff.  I reached down and barely touched her head, barely stroked her neck and back.  She then sat quietly beside my chair.  After a bit she decided to lie down and when I reached to pet her again, she rolled over so I could rub her tummy.  Mission accomplished.  I think.  This act of subservience was engendered by trust, I hope, and not fear.  

The family has her registered for Basic Puppy Training and everyone is hoping for a happy, well-adjusted, well-trained dog as her lessons in socialization proceed.  I hope so too.  Their previous dog was a Covid Puppy and no training was available during the lockdown. He was a sweet tempered, but a very active, rather fearful/neurotic dog until his untimely demise a couple of years ago.  He loved his family though and was a huge fan of showing unbridled affection to all he knew and trusted. (He could be a pest.  LOL)  I know they miss him.  This little Sammy looks much like him physically, although bigger, but so far not as demonstrative with her affection -- or even interest.  I wish them all the best.  I'm glad my dog days are over.

As I am glad of so many things I'm leaving behind.  One could take one look at my recent behavior and grow concerned.  I am losing interest in things that used to delight me.  I am giving away my worldly possessions.  I've killed some plants by neglecting to water them.  I did not plant a veggie garden this year and resented picking our prolific raspberries and already dread turning the frozen gallons of them into the jam we are known for and which is sought after in some circles.

I wander around the house and look at our accumulated "decor" and furnishings and have it narrowed down to a paltry bit that will be loaded into the moving van on some fateful day.  I've lost the spark of joy for most of what I own/have/take care of.  I'm just tired of it all.

But I'm not particularly worried about this change in behavior or emotion.  It seems to be common enough that during times of transition such as we've undertaken, people begin to imagine a different future that doesn't include artifacts or detritus from the past.

We are now in the "active" phase of the decision to leave our big home and head to our lovely communal living community.  Every time we visit we feel more ready to be there and launch a new beginning, creating new life for ourselves -- one that is less onerously tied to possessions and responsibilities.  Every person we meet there says the hardest part of the move was the "downsize" - parting with things that held memories along with the old family home.  They also said, once that was behind them, they wondered why they didn't do it sooner.  

So I feel a bit in a limbo.  We still live here and we still love our home and our views in all directions from our windows and all the memories of 44 years in this place.  And we don't know when we are leaving, exactly. There is a significant wait list to get in to any of our preferred apartments.  But I also imagine myself there, exploring new interests, meeting new people, decorating a new living space and enjoying all the amenities that I don't have to be responsible for maintaining!

So, for now, I am like Sammy.  I bet we all are.  Maybe we can all relate to being a bit cautious, but still open to a bit of training for entering a new phase of life.  I've noticed I'm getting quiet, not doing much of what anyone might call "meaningful work", staying only tangentially aware of the collapse of our democracy (except for the pile of postcards I'm currently writing to Georgia voters to Get Out the Vote in under-represented communities),  watching mostly sports, PBS mysteries and light drama or comedy shows on TV, voraciously reading every Jean Grainger series/book she's ever written (and there are many!), and focusing inward to find quiet, calm, safe spaces for mind and body -- staying close to home, finally committing to a strength training class at the Y, going for walks, doing my yoga practice, and attending my weekly coaching sessions (no, it's not therapy but might as well be) for nervous system regulation.  

Sammy and I both have our work cut out for us, but we hope our humans will be patient and understanding and not scold us too much for what looks like disinterest or sloth as we adjust to the transition of significant endings and new beginnings, with a regulated nervous system. We will rise and be cute and fun and peppy as all get out -- someday soon.  

At least, that's the view from here...©

BRINGING IT HOME (SCANDINAVIA, ETC. PART 4)

I've spent a great deal of my 75 years of life feeling inadequate. Oh, I celebrate my accomplishments; I know my skill set; I have OK self esteem most of the time; people (some) seem to (sorta) like me (sometimes).  Still, I have often thought I'd be a better all around person if I was more gregarious, definitely more adventuresome, much more accomplished, certainly more ambitious, always more social and ready to party, more talkative --  basically more of a peacock strutting in full feather, capturing oohs and ahhs, than the nondescript sparrow alone in the birdbath splashing for a few minutes in solitary pleasure.

Our extroverted, rugged individualism, self-reliant, self-aggrandizing, striving, ambitious, success-seeking, attention-hogging culture tells some of us that a quiet, contented, family/friend focused life of home, hearth, health, and community is just boring and dull and not very important.  We more introverted people can end up being invisible in a loud and pushy world.  And that can feel scary and lonely, sort of like my whole childhood of invisibility.

Then I visited Scandinavia.  I can stop beating myself up: It's not me.  It's just me in the wrong place.  I've never felt so comfortable as I did there.  So OK.  So me, without apology or embarrassment.   It's OK to respect others' personal space and for them to respect mine.  It's OK to be quiet and self-effacing.  It's OK to want to live in a culture of trust, not suspicion; consensus, not discord.  It's OK to want to be in surroundings that are clean and well-maintained, not overgrown and overblown and covered in discarded trash and spray-painted gang tags.  It's OK to enjoy riding public transportation that is clean and efficient and safe, not riding while constantly assessing the environment for dirt and danger.  Same with walking down the street.  It's OK to slow down, sit in a park, watch children playing -- and even join in -- instead of being distracted by the FOMO of what what my phone tempts me to keep up with every minute of every day.  It's OK to delight in finding clean, safe, natural green spaces everywhere in big cities instead of miles of concrete and chainlink fences.

I used to think my Norwegian great aunts and uncles were boring.  We'd visit them on their farms or tiny towns in the northern Illinois cornfields on Sunday afternoons and while they were friendly, welcoming, always had yummy snacks and sweet cakes to serve, they were not gregarious, or outgoing, or even very interesting to me. They all looked ancient old. They didn't play rock'n'roll on the radio, or drink any alcohol at all, or get out the yard games, and a swear word never crossed their lips.  They sat in vinyl slatted lawn chairs, talked about family near and far, reminisced about the 'old country', talked about feed corn, and let me sit on the tractor -- the highlight of the afternoon.  They were a kind, quiet, teetotalling bunch who valued family and the homes and land they lived upon.  They seemed content and grateful, in spite of life's hardships.  I can finally relate and appreciate them.  I am them. (With maybe more rock'n'roll and the occasional F-bomb.)

So, what to do?  I've actually never wanted to live anywhere but in the United States.  I have been mostly proud to be an American and I've done my best to fit in, to try harder, to be bold and brash and the best, just like America likes to think of herself.  But I can say now, with regret, that I feel I'd rather to have lived in Scandinavia.  It is not perfect.  There are world class problems and challenges everywhere.  But it is a culture in tune to my own being.  I might have been happier, more content, more self-accepting had I not been fighting against expectations that were impossible for me to live up to given my inner landscape.

I hear you saying it:  You be you!  You could be that person HERE!  Yep. But it's harder when all around you,  from childhood on, there is a different cultural norm, different goals, different messages.  Maybe some are able to buck that cultural messaging and maybe some just feel like a fish out of water, never quite finding our land-legs.

But now I am in the twilight of my life.  I can make a different place for me.  I can live like a Scandinavian, with more trust and less suspicion; embrace my tendency to work for the common good rather than listening when I'm told to consider how that might effect me and mine; become comfortable with my introversion, my need for quiet space, my hesitancy about barging into people's lives uninvited.  I can accept that I am not a risk-taker or traditional adventurer, but that my adventures are internal dives into introspection and learning about myself and others and how we can be together in a meaningful way.  I can learn to make lefse and stop swearing.  (OK, those might be going too far.)  

The point is, the inner landscape and outer culture of my own life is mine to mold.  I do still live in this big, brassy, diverse country that is unwieldy and maddening and where consensus is very, very difficult to find, but in my own little world, I can be Scandinavian.  Where Universal Welfare is the norm, the goal, the answer.

They say you should be changed by travel.  I've never really felt that until now.  Now I am changed by the  relief that there exists a place where I could fit in.  It's up to me to bring that place home, like a Viking Queen steering her own ship.

At least, that's the view from here...©

BUS SCHOOL (SCANDINAVIA, ETC. PART 3)

Our bus passed through some absolutely beautiful mountainous areas in Norway, above the fjords, through
many mountain tunnels, alongside awesome waterfalls, and skirting little plots of steep land with sweet small wooden cabins  called hytte, belonging to families who think nothing of driving 6 hours out of the city on weekends to get to their mountain retreats. Most cabins on the mountainside or along the water have been in their families for generations.  The Scandinavian people love being outdoors.  Love it!

This is where I part company with my ancestors.  I'm actually more of an indoors-y girl.  Especially when it is cold and snowy outside. But the hearty Norwegians (and all Scandinavians and Nordic peoples) seem to love being outside regardless of the weather.  Skiing and hiking are generally deemed desirable and enjoyable.  I grudgingly admire that, I guess.  But I don't understand it.  I have a perfectly good home that is warm and dry.  Oh well... I didn't go to daycare/preschool there.

Not always and not everywhere, but in some places there is a thing called "Nature Daycare".  Children are shepherded into the forest and spend the ENTIRE DAY outside, playing, eating, learning about respecting and surviving in nature.  Sometimes it's cold and/or rainy.  No matter.  That's part of the learning experience.  Kids grow up appreciating and caring for the natural world.  Imagine. 

Also kids go to elementary school at around 6-7 years old.  (Six has recently been deemed a bit young, so there is a move toward seven being better so children have time to be children before moving into the school system.)  They to learn to get along, learn group engagement, learn their ABCs but not to compete and be stressed out with homework and grades.  No grades are issued at all until our middle school equivalent age.  There are lessons (actual social-emotional curriculum lessons!) in empathy and collaboration, cooperation, trust, and consensus building.  Imagine.

Most students do a "gap year" between high school and college.  This is seen as a good thing to have on your resume, indicating you have taken time to experience life and are well-prepared to devote yourself to further study.  And not everyone strives for a big career.  In fact, some criticize Scandinavians for "settling" for a simple, contended life.  Compared to the U.S. they are not ambitious in the same way.  A good life is considered one that is happy and content, where one fits in with the community and does not stand out by seeking admiration or ego-glorification.  In fact, this would be frowned upon.  Self-glorification would be an embarrassment.  Imagine.

Getting along and being content might help explain why crime is so low.  Only 1-3% of the population is impacted by violence.  They feel safe, trust the police and military, do not own firearms (except for hunting and those are regulated such that you don't just place a mail order or walk into the gun store to get one.)  Speaking of police: they are required to have 3 years of training most of which is around social services and de-escalation.  They rarely fire their weapons on the job.  Imagine.

Caring for nature has led to a cultural commitment to taking action to address climate change.  There are
no landfills.  People are expected to reuse and recycle.  Incinerators are used (highly controlled for toxic emissions) and the steam generated is piped into a system that helps heat homes.  The harbor areas are being cleaned up from their industrial past to be accessible for recreation.   People-focused, green technology is being used to develop waterfront areas into housing and retail centers.   97% of new cars purchased are electric, although there was a 50% drop in Tesla sales recently due to Musk's romance with Trump and his unwillingness to work with local unions.  

Speaking of politics, Denmark speaks of the "Greenland Moment" when Trump announced that the U.S. would take control of Greenland, "one way or the other".  The Nordic countries and other EU nations formed an almost universal alliance in opposition to a possible invasion, committing their military to
defend Greenland against the United States.  They began to send troops ready to blow up landing strips or whatever was necessary to "slow the U.S. down" even though they knew they could not withstand a full blown invasion.  Scandinavian countries, some of our staunchest allies in NATO, have lost trust in the United States.  Tourism to the U.S. was down 50% last year, more this year.  There is some hope that the U.S. can turn things around in coming elections, but they are skeptical.  Scandinavians were shocked Trump was elected for a second time.  (Me too.)

So, even though they are commonly lumped together, how do Scandinavians see each other?  Our guide, Heidi, described it (tongue in cheek) like this:  Scandinavians are siblings, with Finland being a close cousin.  Sweden, Denmark, and Norway are united by common genetics and a common language base.  Finland has a different genetic heritage and language origin, but is still a Nordic cousin.  

Sweden sees itself as the eldest son - mature, responsible, sophisticated, and a little reserved.  It gets annoyed with Denmark, the middle child, which can be too laid back, a bit lazy, and perhaps drinks too much.  Norway is the youngest.  It prefers to be outdoors having fun, is a little neglectful of responsibilities, just tagging along and not paying attention.  

I don't know if each country would agree with these characterizations, but on the surface they seemed to hold true from our observations as tourists.  (LOL)  All in all, each county had unifying characteristics and was also distinctly unique.  

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit: Hub, the official photographer.  a Hytte; Norwegian waterfalls; Swedish schoolchildren; Danish riverside saunas (get hot inside, then plunge into the river and swim a few laps); Danish protest (our travel companion, Buddy, agrees.)

5,479 DAYS

I am deeply grateful for 5, 479 days without alcohol.  Today is my 15th anniversary of the best decision ever.  No alcohol, no recreational drugs.  Just me, discovering every day the world as it is; no mind alteration to make it better, to make it through, to make it stop.  

I was not a daily heavy drinker, but I decided I was drinking more than was healthy -- which recent studies are showing is far, far less than previously recommended.  (Some of those earlier, often quoted studies were at least partially funded by the alcohol industry, who now, of course, argue with those researchers who say no amount of alcohol is truly safe.)  Quitting, I discovered that I don't need drugs (yes, alcohol is a toxic drug) to relax, to socialize, to celebrate, to grieve.  It adds nothing and takes so much.

In the past 15 years I have had days of pure joy, days of deep despair, days of contentment, days of boredom, days of hopelessness.  I have felt it all, every minute.  Pure experiencing.  Not always easy.  Always worth it.  My thoughts, feelings, nervous system responses to life are my own -- not influenced or owned by a drug.

So today I give a shout-out to all who walk this path with me. It is lonely here oftentimes, making this commitment to sobriety in our alcohol- and drug-fueled culture.  Finding kindred spirits smoothes the way and soothes the soul.  A special gratitude goes to my Ocean Shores friends who, while I was on a visit there, saw me, encouraged me, and even many years into my no alcohol/drugs decision finally allowed me to feel truly seen and truly supported.  No more apologies; no more being a good sport.  I found my sober voice in harmony with theirs and it was life-changing.

Five years ago, Jon hosted a family brunch for me to celebrate a decade of no alcohol/drugs. Leading up to that anniversary, I had made a big deal of it and he was thoughtful enough to organize a family get-together where everyone brought N/A drinks of various kinds to gift to me.  It was a memorable and much appreciated day.

This year no one even mentioned it until I pointed it out today (and bought myself flowers to mark the occasion.)  It's OK; it's a very personal decision I've made and one not shared by my family.  They accept and support me, but they do not walk this no alcohol/no drug path with me and the celebration is really mine alone.

So, do not raise a glass to me today (even of the N/A variety.)  Instead, take a deep breath and know that is the ilixer of life.  And it is enough.  🙏🏽

At least, that's the view from here...©

BUS SCHOOL (SCANDINAVIA, ETC. PART 2)

Here's what struck us most about Scandinavia:  People seem content.  

Now I know not every day is "happy dance day" anywhere in the world.  There are issues and problems and disagreements.  I'm trying not to turn a 2-week visit to Sweden, Denmark, and Norway into a visit to Utopia, but there are striking cultural/political differences between those social democratic countries and our republic right now.  Ours is struggling to hang onto democracy, mired in massive governmental corruption, has an ever growing income and wealth discrepancy leading to anger, resentment, all the 'isms', and a terrifying flirtation with fascist-leaning strongmen who promise they have all the answers, but really are just power-mad money grubbers.  

What I want to report is that it doesn't have to be like this.  And where it isn't, people get along and look out for each other.

Here are some things we learned "on the bus".  I took notes.  Truly.  I was so impressed with our excellent guide, Heidi from Denmark, as well as all the local guides who were part of our trip.  

(Insert Personal Testimonial: Rick Steves Europe Tours is known for the quality of its guides -- he pays them a living wage so there is no tipping and no trotting us off to souvenier shops where they get a kick back on sales.  They are well-educated on all aspects of the history and culture of their countries, and are open, friendly and well-organized.  This was our 5th trip and this was my favorite guide.  Also, one local guide said he loves Rick Steves groups because he can "tell the truth", meaning he can talk about political issues with honesty without worrying about offending a more conservative audience.  R.S. travelers do tend toward the liberal side in general.)

1)  TRUST AND CONSENSUS: The first stunning thing I learned in "Bus School" (Heidi's narrative while driving places), was that Scandinavia operates on a model of "trust and consensus".  Wait.  What did she say?  Yes, they highly value the ideal and practice of trust.  They assume people want what is best for each other.  They are surprised that someone would do something to hurt another deliberately.  When disagreements arise, they work to come to consensus so that everyone is heard and has a part in the final decision. This is true of personal relationships as well as in the political system.  

Let's contrast that with the rampant lack of trust in each other and our government in the US, where disagreements and differences are fought over with the intention that one side will "win" by whatever means -- cheating, threatening, and bullying allowed.  I have become so inured to this system that I was ridiculously incredulous that Scandinavia does it all so much more respectfully and humanely and people actually value this approach.  

2) HUMILITY: Here's a simple, but telling example.  We got off the plane in Stockholm airport and found the baggage claim area.  People gathered around the carousel waiting for the bags to arrive.  I am used to the push and shove approach where early comers get the prime location right in front of the baggage belt so they can lean in, get their bag first as it rolls past on the conveyor belt, blocking everyone behind them. Once spied, they reach in to grab the sometimes heavy and awkward suitcase, knocking another person out of the way, then make their way through the crowd with some aggression to leave the area and dash to their destination.

In Sweden, we all stood behind a yellow line around the carousel, which created a "lane" of emptiness where, when one saw their bag, they calmly stepped forward, took it from the carousel, and wheeled it unimpeded inside the yellow line in that empty lane, clearing the area for others behind them to do the same.  It was late at night when we arrived; I was really tired and sort of out of it.  I stood watching this most civilized and respectful scene with awe.  I really could hardly believe it.  

I learned at Bus School that another aspect of Scandinavian culture is that no one is thought "better" than anyone else and to boast, brag, or pull rank is not a done thing.  No one wants to "stand out" and be the focus of attention. It would be considered the height of rudeness and would be frowned upon and scorned a bit.  People are self-effacing and do not seek undue attention, feeling decidedly uncomfortable in the limelight.  Blending in is the norm.  So, at the carousel they all took turns.  Politely, patiently, without resentment.  Imagine.

3) SOCIAL COHESION AND SOCIAL WELFARE:  It is important in Scandinavia to work towards an egalitarian society.  Yes, these countries are capitalist.  The means of production are not in the the hands of the government.  But vast income inequality is not the goal.  A society where all can live comfortably is.  They work to ensure that polarizing forces do not take hold.  Famously this has meant that the Social Democrats have been elected most frequently.  These countries run on a Universal Welfare system.  This is not "welfare" like we think of it in the U.S. where some people need governmental assistance to survive.  This is welfare in the sense of "for the welfare of all".  

So what does this mean?  It means there is a "people first" philosophy where income is taxed at a very

high rate (39-52% depending on the country), which applies to everyone from low-wage earners to multi-millionaires.  This sounds terrifying and outrageous to us. Who would want to pay that much of their income in taxes?  In the U.S. it becomes a game of the wealthy, especially, to try to find enough loopholes in tax law to keep one's wealth from being taxed at a higher rate.  Middle and lower wage earners generally don't have these loopholes, so overall they pay a higher tax rate than let's say, billionaire Jeff Bezos.  In the U.S. everyone tries to keep as much of their wage as possible because every penny is needed to survive and thrive.  How will I pay for health care?  Education for my kids?  Childcare?  Elder care?   How can I take time off work when a new baby arrives?  Will I be able to take a vacation from the job, for a week or two?

Um.  Yes.  If you live in Scandinavia.  Because what you pay into the system in taxes helps fund all of those things for everyone.  Parents get 80% of salary during paid parental leave, some up to 18 months for each parent.  Childcare and Eldercare are highly subsidized, capped based on income to make it affordable for all.  Hospital stays are free and other health care heavily subsidized such that out of pocket co-pays are generally less than $250 annually. All education is free, even college, and in some cases a living stipend for an apartment is also offered.  Workers get 5-6 weeks paid vacation annually.  

How in the world can this system work?  Like this: Everyone is expected to work and pay into the system through taxes.  If one needs skills training, it is provided free of charge. Help is available for any aspect of job transfer; if you quit or get fired or are moving from temporary to permanent employment, you get help finding a new job.  If you have a language barrier (as in the case of recent immigrants) you get free language and culture lessons.  The system relies on people eager to contribute to it through their work, and the system rewards this work by providing  a universally applied "for the welfare of all" comfortable standard of living.  People there are delighted with the way this all works.  They seem to be truly happy and content.

So, do not be fooled by the rhetoric of the billionaire class in the U.S.  This is not communism, nor is it socialism; it is a capitalist social democratic/universal welfare system where all contribute fairly and all benefit equally.  What a concept!  

So much to learn, right?  Let's take a break and come back to Bus School later.  Time for recess!

At least that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit:  Hub.  He's our official photographer.  These are just some random choices of Sweden and Denmark, from the hundreds he took on our trip.  I should make a photo book. (I always intend to.) There are so many great ones.

GOD MORGEN, VENNER! (SCANDINAVIA, ETC. PART 1)

Good Morning, Friends! (Kudos to those Norwegians who didn't need the translation.)

I am back from a month of travels and with 3 weeks recovery time behind me I finally have some energy to sit at my computer to unravel the trip, share some insights, and allow you to witness my vow never to travel again.  (Just kidding.  I think.  Pretty sure.  We will see.)

Some of you followed my daily Facebook posts which I love doing because I love it when others post their travels too -- nice sharing!  But also because my posts and photos act as a travel journal and documentation of the where and when and what of our trips.  These post-travel blog posts go a bit deeper into the why and how, with info and insights gained.  Here goes...

Overview:  The intention was a 14-day tour with Rick Steves Europe travel gurus.  Locals know that Rick, of PBS and ubiquitous travel guide fame, lives just down the freeway from us and we feel like we are old friends.  We've met him, chatted with him, go to all of his public travel forums; I even took a travel writing class from him.  He would not know us, so don't ask him.  This was our 5th tour with his company and it was excellent, as were all the others.  There are quirks that seem to be unique to his tours that can be challenging, but overall the good outweighs the challenging (most of the time, but some frustrations add up, that's for sure!).  I've come to realize that travel is uncomfortable sometimes, challenging most of the time, exhausting all of the time.  It is not vacation.  Vacation is for chillin' out in a beautiful place with no agenda beyond getting dressed (maybe) and seeing what unfolds organically.  Travel has a relentless itinerary.

Anyway, this was Rick's "Best of Scandinavia" tour.  It is one of his company's most popular and we had to be waitlisted to get in, and we were lucky enough to score entry.  Since we were flying Icelandic Air from Seattle to Stockholm, we were able to take advantage of their layover in Reykavik option, so we planned 4 pre-tour nights in Iceland before heading to Sweden.  

The overnight flight to Iceland was as they all are for me -- interminable, uncomfortable, claustrophobic, sleepless.  At least it was only 7 hours.  Hub and I always try to get an exit row, aisle seats across from each other when there are no seat configurations that are just two together.  Hub is able to sleep on planes (with a little help from a gentle sleep aid) so he had his new hearing aids tuned into music, a neck pillow, a blanket, and a cozy little snooze.  I was across the aisle alternately trying to sleep and stay conscious.

After a few hours of sleepless discomfort, we were about 2/3 of the way into the flight when I started to feel lightheaded and a bit nauseated.  I've had unexplained fainting episodes before (many years ago) and this felt like that.  My legs felt weak, my pulse slow, things started to get a bit dark around the edges of my vision, I was shaky and sweaty.  So of course I was also in a bit of a panic, but I recalled all my tools for warding this thing off so I started doing my slow diaphragmatic breathing with long exhales; started contracting large muscle groups in my lower extremities to get the blood flowing upward from my legs to my brain; lowered my head as close to my lap as I could get it...

And then I heard the thud.  A man in the window seat in the row in front of Hub apparently got up to use the restroom and crashed to the floor in a dead faint.  He was a larger man.  I have no idea how he ended up prone between the seat rows, but I saw his feet sticking out into the aisle and a seat-mate racing to the back of the plane to get the flight attendant.  Two of them immediately brought him an oxygen tank, staying with him until he was alert enough to sit again.  They opened the shade of his window seat to  reveal a dawn sky.  Others opened their shades too, letting light into the dark cabin. Cooler air seemed to be coming into the cabin too, which had been hot and stale throughout the whole flight.  With light and air, I started to feel better also.

When we landed I mentioned to the flight attendants as I deplaned that I, too, had a near fainting episode and wondered if there was a problem in that part of the plane.  They admonished me a bit for not letting them know.  They said some people do not react well to the decreased oxygen levels in the pressurized cabin and it's important to alert the flight attendants.  Noted.  

A quick Google search later revealed that the FAA has approved cabin pressure when flying to mimic the O2 level of being at 5,000-8,000 ft. elevation.  And when necessary (storms, I guess) they are authorized to go to 10,000 feet cabin pressure for brief periods.  Yikes!  I realized that when I visited a friend in Boulder, Colorado (elev. 5430 ft) I felt the same "lack of air" and dizziness, as well as when I tried to walk (unsteadily) at the Maunakea Observatory (elev. 13,797 ft) on the Big Island Hawaii.  So I am one of those who doesn't respond well to the rarified cabin pressure which might explain why I am so miserable on most flights and always feel sick.  I thought I was just a wimp. (⬅️ Theme) 

But we made it to Iceland and went immediately from the airport to the Blue Lagoon.  It's famous.  Big tourist attraction. Here's what Mr. Google says:  

"This stunning lagoon holds six million liters of geothermal seawater, which is naturally renewed every 40 hours. The lagoon is shallow, with an average depth of 1.2 meters (about 4 feet) and a maximum depth of just over 1.5 meters (about 5 feet). The average temperature of the water is a warm and inviting 37-39°C (98-102°F), perfect for bathing in Iceland's cool climate.

The water in the Blue Lagoon is unique due to its rich content of silica, algae, and minerals, giving the lagoon its famous milky blue appearance. These components have skin-healing and rejuvenating properties, distinguishing the Blue Lagoon from any other spa in the world and making it a unique experience for visitors seeking relaxation and wellness benefits."

It was also surreal.  Iceland turned out to be way more barren and stark than I anticipated, like driving through a moonscape.  In the midst of the moon rock, the lagoon was unique and inviting and huge enough that it didn't feel crowded at all.  And the warm water felt heavenly in the 52-degree air temp.  We stayed a couple of hours there, did the silica mask thing, got our free drinks at the water-y walk up bar, tried to take it all in.  But I was so jet lagged and still a bit on the queasy, shaky side.  It just all seemed like a dream I was having.

After some sleep that night at our apartment, the rest of our Iceland visit was interesting and I'm glad we stopped there.  I've always wanted to go.  In photos it looks exotic and other-worldly and very beautiful.  All true. 

We wandered around Reykjavik and liked it, so colorful and peaceful.  Iceland is known to be one of he safest countries in the world.  People seem to be uninterested in killing each other.  Maybe they are too busy being in awe of their surroundings or trying to learn their indecipherable language.

We drove the Golden Circle and saw beauiful waterfalls, including the amazing Gullfoss, a geyser (not as big as Yellowstone's), and Pingviller National Park where we walked in the rift between tectonic plates.  

We stopped at a greenhouse restaurant, Frioheimar, that was very fun.  The greenhouse grows tomatoes and offers unlimited tomato soup and homemade breads, serving diners at tables literally tucked inside the warm and cozy greenhouse, next to growing plants. 

One day we went for a bit of the Ring Road drive (to the south) where we found more green and less barren surroundings, more varied landscape with hills and mountains and small picturesque towns , more spectacular waterfalls (Seljalandsfoss, Glijufurarfoss,Skógafoss, a glacier (Solheimajokull), and a black sand (actually, pebble) beach (Reynisfjara Beach).  

For Game of Thrones fans, Iceland was the location for many scenes in the TV show so at the Skogafoss stop I dialed up a YouTube video with theme music and sat on a bench before a huge waterfall featured in a pivotal scene in the show, listening with volume up in my ear buds, and was transported there again.  I watched all the tourists who had been merely annoying suddenly turn into majestic citizens of the North, as they approached Winterfell. (Sorry, nerding out on GOT there.)  

Oh, one more thing about Iceland.  We saw an outdoor menu posted that featured Icelandic Horse and Smoked Puffin.  Cute creatures, beware!

And so our trip began.  More to come.

At least, that's the view from here...©  

SOCIAL MEDIA NO LONGER VERY SOCIAL

At the urging of my out-of-state niece, in 2009 I joined Facebook to better stay in touch with her, and others, near and far.  I loved it from the get-go.  It's an introvert's dream:  I'm in charge of the subject matter, I share what I want, and what I don't, I get to omit.  (Although I think more than most I've not used it as only a highlight reel of my life; I've posted some very NOT highlight stuff at times too.)  The interaction is brief by design and my introvert can "escape" before I'm worn out, but I still get to be in connection.  I see photos, hear stories, keep up with others I care about and feel closer as a result. It brings me joy.

Or at least it did.  Over the past several years most of my FB friends have stopped participating.  They still have accounts, but they rarely (or never) post or share about themselves personally.  Most never comment or even hit a reaction button on my (frequent) posts.  It is no longer a community of vitality and good-natured connection.  It's a wasteland of mostly ads, memes, and impersonal sharing of third-party content.  Some of that I like.  In some of that I have found great resources that I've used and enjoyment that I've appreciated.  But continued connections to a wide group of friends?  Not so much, which makes me sad.

Nevertheless I've continued to post.  I wanted to (hoped to) keep connections going.  I looked forward to seeing who might like or comment on my posts.  I hoped to see them post personally about themselves too so I could return the favor.  I wanted to stay in touch, to see their lives unfold, to share my own unfolding.  And yet...

I have 125 FB friends on my list.  That is paltry compared to those who have hundreds.  But I only use my FB to be in touch with those I genuinely find interesting and care about, so I keep my list small. I also have to know them in real life.  I have never felt the need to collect names on my friend list of people I barely know.  And I never, ever post publicly and never comment on others' public posts.  I'm a bit of a privacy freak, another reason I post to a small friend list I trust.

I've generally been in the habit of "culling" my list periodically to those who actually interact and reciprocate, for the most part.  (Some get a pass for one reason or another.) I even have sub-sets (custom lists) for various interest topics.  But lately that culling, if I truly cut those who are absent, would get me down to about 20-30 total friends who actually post themselves, or who comment or like my FB posts once in a while.  Most of the time it's far less than a dozen who show up to my posts.  And I'm wondering what the point is.

Startlingly, I'm realizing I might be seeking something on social media that I will never find, at least not anymore. (Call me late to that realization.)  I have long defended social media from the naysayers as being a true community, even if virtual.  Mostly because for me it really is a group of friends I know and for whatever reason do not see often face to face (distance mostly).  I still love that a platform exists that connects people who, for whatever reason cannot be out and about, or who have moved and can't visit, or have left a workplace, church, school, whatever, and still want to stay in touch in a way that is easy and accessible.  This, to me, is the gift of technology.

But more and more people are over it.  More and more I hear, "I'm not doing FB anymore."  More and more I observe that I'm here with only a handful of others and it's a little pathetic, isn't it? 

It is vitally important to me to feel connected and seen and cared about.  I think that's likely true for most of us and I want that for me and want to offer that to others.  But maybe my expectations are unrealistic.  It may be time for me to decide I really don't need so many connections to feel OK.  I have my immediate family, a handful of close friends, a few relatives in far-flung places (only one of whom is on Facebook; the others ditched it ages ago -- we keep up now with a rare phone call), and maybe that is all one needs to feel a sense of connection.  I don't know.  It's a little embarrassing to discover I've been using this medium to fill an emotional void.  How classic. 🙄

What I do know is that in posting a little FB survey on a recent FB post asking my friends why they use social media, I got only five responses and those few said they use social media to keep in touch with others, be part of an organized group on FB, or for distraction, entertainment, or information.  All valid.  But I wonder if they are feeling the same lack that I am.  

I've never played games on my phone, nor sat mindlessly scrolling for hours, clicking for the next dopamine hit.  I use Facebook to stay in touch with friends (or hope to), catch some news of the day, keep up with various groups I belong to.  I use Instagram to find inspiration (those Monks!) and some very helpful resources (exercise, meditation, medical info) and often, humor.  I use my phone to Google things.  All of which takes about 2-3 hours a day on average, according to my I-Phone useage tracker, so I'm not addicted and I do have a life.  (Although even that much time online seems like a lot to me.) 

But since my primary reason for social media has been to feel connected to a larger community of those who share and reciprocate a relationship, to stay in touch, to show up for each other by "being there", perhaps I need to admit, there are just not that many willing to play in this sandbox anymore.  I'm in here building a castle by myself.  For myself.

I'm willing to explore cutting back, resisting the urge to post something I think would be of interest or entertainment, or especially posting things of a personal nature.  Because maybe my post is just a cry for attention, just a plea for friendship, just a bid to be seen and acknowledged as I find myself growing older and less "out there" as a part of the same social institutions I used to inhabit (work, church, regular family gatherings, etc).  

I'm leaving on a trip soon.  I'm thinking my usual daily trip posts are wholly unnecessary.  If you want to hear about my trip, here ya go:  It was fine/great/exhausting, the scenery was lovely, the people friendly.  Want photos?  Google Scandinavia. 

I am going to find a way to use social media in a healthy, not grasping for something way, accepting it is not what it used to be but still has a purpose and some benefit to me.  I miss my friends I don't see anymore, either in person or due to their choice not to be part of a virtual community, but that happens; friends drift away in real life.  Trying to hang on to them virtually is silly.  

I can focus on my friends right now in the present (yes, you know who you are) who share, reciprocate, and are willing to be part of my crew, however that manifests -- in person and/or online.  I see you.  Thanks for seeing me too. ❤️

At least, that's the view from here...©

P.S. A note of recognition.  I have tried other platforms, but none has risen to the level of ease of use or dominance of Facebook.  And yes I know it's now the "old folks" platform.  My adult children dropped off half a decade ago.  My grandkids barely know it exists.  And yes I know it is an evil empire of awfulness, owned by the oligarchy.  I know all the bad things, and I am not condoning any of that, but having tried other platforms, this remains the one I mostly use to connect.  The others are mostly for information or entertainment.  And some I don't even care to understand.  But maybe I'm just hanging out in the wrong online space.  Maybe that's what my friends are telling me.  "Get thee to Discord!"  LOL

AN IMPULSIVE DECISION

We did a thing last week.  For many months Hub and I had reservations for a flight and lodging to visit Williamsburg, Virginia.  I have an interest in Revolutionary War history and the founding of our (already great) nation.  Plus we had expiring air miles and timeshare points to use up.  We got out the map and decided on this trip as a diverting spring getaway.  No big expectations; just a place to go that we'd not been before and pretty easy to organize and navigate.  

On Hub's St. Patrick's Day birthday Son One and Granddaughter Two showed up with BD goodies and happy smiles.  No sooner was our granddaughter in the door than she sat next to me on the sofa and started rapping songs from the Broadway musical, "Hamilton".  I knew she had seen the movie version of the play on Disney channel more than once.  (She likes to watch her faves over and over).  I didn't know she was a wee bit obsessed!  She proceeded to tell me all she'd learned from the movie; it was impressive to hear from an 11-year-old.  Art as education.  She asked me to take her to the library to check out books on Hamilton, both Alexander and Eliza.

When they left, I turned to Hub and he to me and simultaneously we agreed she had to come to Williamsburg with us.  Had to!  It seemed impulsive, so we slept on it.  We had, after all, made all the arrangements just for the two of us.  We had our red-eye flight and premium seats reserved, our one- bedroom villa waiting.  A week away with a 5th grader had not been part of the plan. Plus she'd be part of the time on Spring Break, but also would miss two additional school days because of the dates we had chosen.  But we also felt like this could possibly be a memorable trip for all of us, so the next day we called her parents and got the excited go-ahead to invite her.  She was thrilled!

Hub was able to change airline seats so we could all share a row.  We tried to get a two-bedroom unit at our lodging but no luck, so we told her she would have a fold-out bed from the sofa and we'd all have to share a bathroom; she was unfazed.  

The first week of April, off we went on our grand adventure.  We flew into Washington D.C., arriving at 5:30 a.m. a bit bleary-eyed and hungry.  Hub and I would have skipped the tourist stops, having been to DC a few times previously, and driven straight to Williamsburg. But how could we be right there and not show our girl the sights, at least for a few hours.  We picked up our rental car and drove to downtown D.C.  We had a mediocre breakfast near the Washington Monument then took off on foot for a nearly 6 mile walking tour of monuments and memorials.  (No time for museums, unfortunately.  We told her all about the Smithsonian, but had no time to explore them.)  

She was open-mouthed thrilled with it all, as one can be on their first time in D.C.  But for her, all the "Hamilton" references were her favorites -- things she'd heard of in her Disney Channel studies.  (She said she has had no history of any kind in elementary school, and it showed.  She asked lots of basic questions about the famous buildings and monuments not referenced in Hamilton.)  She seemed to appreciate our Cliff 's Notes version of history and the significance of what she was seeing, but maybe she was just being polite.  LOL

Leaving late-afternoon, we had a 3 hour drive to Williamsburg and were glad to arrive and settle in for the rest of the week.  I'll not recount every moment of every day.  But overall, it was a little slice of perfection, with minimal stresses and fatigues along the way.  I recall only three very brief times of annoyance, frustration, or disagreement, which is remarkable for three people in close proximity for a whole week, with varying degrees of energy, interest, and age. 

We were all mesmerized by Colonial Williamsburg.  So many people had told me they'd been there and enjoyed it.  The first day we took in several actor portrayals of Founding Fathers and it was hard to stick to a timed schedule with venues for these performances spaced geographically apart.  We saw little trade shops but passed them by, since no doors were open and they didn't look welcoming.  We had an overpriced not-that-great lunch.  We spent a great deal of time in a museum that was interesting in some ways but also less than thrilling.  I didn't understand what the fuss was about and why Williamsburg was so beloved.  Silly me.

We went the next day to Jamestown and then to Yorktown (the village and the battlefields) which was more engaging, all outdoors, and really fun.  Our girl loved the history, the hands on experiences, explored sailing ships and Indian village recreations, learned to shoot a musket, climb on battlefield bunkers, and write with a quill pen.  

Then back to Williamsburg for two more days and this time we totally "got" the charm.  We had leisurely days of exploration, visited most of the trade shops and talked with each proprietor and tradesperson.  Our girl asked questions and was completely enthralled with everything from wool spinning to tin-smithing to nature medicines in the apothecary.  She is reading an anime book series called Apothecary Diaries and was surprisingly conversant with the medical historian who ran the shop.  (In fact, we tried to return the next day, our girl with notebook in hand to take notes, but alas the shop was closed.)  We saw more performances by excellent actors as Washington, Layafette, Jefferson, etc. and other small one-act plays of American history.  

Every single person working at Williamsburg is professional and authentic.  They are not just tourist hosts putting on a costume, they actually are masters or apprentices of the 18th century trades they work.  Entering their shops is like entering as one would in those times as they welcome visitors and explain what they are doing as they work, rarely breaking character.  Impressive.

But best of all was our time with our granddaughter and allowing her the freedom and encouragement to have her own (albeit supervised) experience.  The unspoken plan became, "anything she wants to do" .  We rarely said no to anything and rarely imposed our own agenda.  We were eager and amiable companions traveling together.  It helps that she is funny, smart, considerate, polite, and engaged.  She is such a role model for me to find delight in life.  I envy her outgoing personality (she talked to everyone!) and her confidence.  She fully trusts the world to be a good place and that she has a right to enthusiastically engage with that world.

On the way home we had a slight glitch in that we had to buy her an "unaccompanied minor" airline ticket because our seats were in the exit row and she couldn't sit with us due to her age.  I immediately assumed this would make her nervous and unhappy to have to be alone or sit with strangers, but she had no qualms. When boarding she found out she would have the very last row of the plane all to herself; she was beside herself with excitement!  

Before we knew it, she had befriended a younger boy and taken him under her wing, offering him a seat next to her for awhile until he returned to his mother, and giving him a shell she'd picked up on the trip.  At the end of the flight the mother handed our girl a Thank You card from her and her son (her words, with his drawing of himself with our girl), which brought tears to my eyes.

We took lots of photos during the week to document the trip. We debriefed regularly about the day's events and our reactions to them. My motive for this review was to try to cement this trip in her memory.  I think she will remember it, although details will fade over time.  I know that I will remember it always as a family-life highlight. 

So, thank you Lin-Manuel Miranda.  I'm so grateful for this shared little slice of American and family history -- and that we didn't "throw away our shot" at having this special time together.  

At least, that's the view from here...©

Top Photo:  She's bravely ready to enter a "haunted house" on our nighttime Williamsburg ghost tour!

Middle Photo: Striking the iconic "Hamilton" pose at Yorktown battlefield.

Bottom Photo: A sweet thank you from strangers on the plane.

I TAKE IT BACK? THREADS GROUP THERAPY AND CURRENT EVENTS.

I write now at 7 a.m. watching the sky get bright in spite of a cloudy sunrise that includes glimpses of promising blue sky peeking through.  I have a load of wash in and a to-do list at hand.  As pre-trip prep goes, this one has been easy.  I'm sure I'm forgetting something very, very important; just not sure yet what that is...

So, first let me retract that last post.  I know there are some who think if you put something "out to the Universe", it will manifest.  I have flirted with that philosophy, but I have trust issues, so I'm never really optimistic that the Universe will serve up what I order.  That said...

My last post about busy adult children and how they seem not to have time for 'lil 'ol Mom?  Well, no sooner had I hit publish than I heard from Son Two with an invitation to lunch when he is in town for an upcoming appointment.  One of the grandgirls asked if I'd take her to the library to get a book about Eliza Hamilton and have a fro-yo after at the new shop at the waterfront.  Son One delivered his power washer to our house within 20 minutes of Hub requesting to borrow it.  Son One and DIL invited us to dinner at their house while her parents are visiting from out of state so we could all visit together.  And when they all came to our house for Easter, she made a beeline to me with a hug and an "I love you" as she came in the door. 

Of course you will assume they read the blog post and took the hint.  No.  They do not read my blog.  They never ask about it, don't have a link to it, and they are not notified when it is published.  This was all the Universe's doing.  So, about that post?  Well my adult 'children' are still busy and I might feel a wee bit marginalized at times, but I have to admit my family is actually pretty great.  I'm practicing "radical acceptance" of what is true, not what I want to be true.  And right now that feels good enough.

Onward to something not so good.  It seems the guy that other people elected president is veering into a crazy town that continues to endanger us all.  His expletive-laden Easter message about blowing up Iran was a bit of a shock.  Today he said if Iran doesn't capitulate to his demands by 8:00 tonight, "their whole civilization will die tonight"; basically threatening to blow them up.  This is not normal.  But then we haven't had "normal" in one day of his two presidencies and it takes a toll.  Every day is a new horror such that him saying things like this are so commonplace that we may be shocked but not surprised and no one spontaneously takes to the streets to demand he be stopped.  Republicans control the Congress whose job it is to reign in out of control presidents, but they either support his rantings or remain silent in spite of Democrats sounding the alarms, but the Dems in the minority are pretty helpless to do anything meaningful.  So we are left with holding our collective breath.

I have tried not to look at "news" early in the morning, but with his threat deadline approaching, I wanted to check in with anything that may have occurred overnight.  What I found was a community of Insomniacs all feeling as I do -- afraid, enraged, stressed, helpless, stunned that we are living this nightmare of national collapse of our norms and values with a president threatening war crimes.  His Secretary of Defense has fired the military leaders who might have tried to stop this, so they have their own lackeys in place for the big standoff.  It's insane.  Or it's just another bluff.  The Insomniacs don't know and neither do I.  Chaos, cruelty, and corruption are the order of the day.  Of every day.  Comments made in Threads were actually helpful to feel not so alone with the anxiety.

Which is why the Insomniacs are also looking for relief.  Concurrent with this national war dance, we have four brave, bright, charismatic astronauts (3 men, 1 woman) circling the moon for the first time since the Apollo launches that ended in 1972 with our last visit there.  I almost missed it.  The whole lead-up to the space launch was buried in politics (at least in my alogarithm).  But off they went and are now up there live-streaming to earth some amazing photography and uplifting messages of peace and unity while they do their science stuff. 

We may be even more attuned to their flight since a Hollywood blockbuster has actually brought people into theaters the last few weeks to see 'Project Hail Mary' based on a book of the same name that Hub and I just finished reading.  (Hub has not read a novel in decades!)   The movie stars the charming Ryan Gosling, so that's a plus, but the story is what is keeping people talking -- a spaceship traveling far, far away to try to save the earth from a dying sun.  I won't do a movie review here (have not seen it yet), but I think the whole cultural phenomenon of this book/movie is resonating because we are so collectively desperate for something good and positive in our lives. And dare I say, hopeful?  Maybe we have to "leave earth" with our noses in a sci fi book, sit in a dark theater, or keep our eyes glued to NASA on YouTube streaming from space to find it, but there we are.  Cheering for the good guys.

Tonight we fly into the belly of the beast -- a red eye to Washington D.C. where tomorrow, bleary-eyed and jet-lagged we will walk the National Mall with our 11-year-old granddaughter who is coming along with us.  We will talk about the American democracy that has been the envy of the world and take pictures in front of national monuments and buildings where power is wielded for good or ill.  We will drive south to Williamsburg VA for a week of American history where our grandgirl, obsessed with "Hamilton", will live out her Schuyler Sister fantasies before we return home next week.  

Our little patch of earth is a mess right now.  But taking the long view out, it is a beautiful planet where good people do good things, the cycles of evil run their course, and families come together when and how they can in love and connection.

It's hard to hold so many conflicting feelings at once -- fear, anger, sadness, shock, love, joy, hope, gratitude.  But hold them we must.  And we must find each other for support and camaraderie.  I see you Insomniacs.  I am you.

At least, that's the view from here...©

THEY ARE JUST BUSY....

Do you sense a theme here?   Last post I talked about me not being busy, but this post I will talk about the busy lives I see around me, particularly those of my adult children.

Off the top, I admit to not completely being healed of my Anxious Attachment bond (see last post for an explanation of this if you haven't read it.)  I still need reassurance at times that I am not alone in the world, that I'm seen and appreciated.  Unfortunately this need can come in conflict with others' needs for something very different.

Take my kids for example.  In their late 30's and early 40's they are in the very heart of their "productive years" -- big careers, big homes, big social lives, raising kids.  I remember.  As I wrote about last time, I did all of that too and more, with all of our community/political/personal growth work.  

So, they are busy.  But hey!  What about me????

I had a fantasy that by developing what I considered a close, loving, and supportive relationship with my sons, and later with their wives, and later with my grandkids, that would naturally result in being centered in their lives in some way.  Not THE center, of course, but not too far afield.  Well, some days I feel pretty darned far afield.   

I've asked for "just say hi" texts.  Nope, that's not happening.  I've asked for coffee/happy hour/lunch dates. Rare.  I've initiated these types of connections and some have worked out, some have not.  We used to host a weekly family dinner, but Covid ended that and we never found our way back as they got "busier" and now I find it sometimes exasperatingly difficult to get an agreement on a date for even an occasional family get together.  They are just too busy.

I hear this from friends with whom I've tried to talk about this issue and they seem to accept more graciously than I the "they're busy" explanation for lack of contact.  I've also heard it from Hub, who is just fine with how things are and doesn't have the same need for the type of connection I'd hoped for in my fantasy years.  

Over the years I've even heard it from therapists who had to listen to my laments. One (male) told me my mothering task, when they were teens, was ultimately to "just let go".   (So easy!)  

One therapist told me about her own experience, which was quite like mine, and counseled that we will never be as important in the daily lives of our kids as they are to us.  (Gulp.)

Another, my recent 30-something therapist (yes, she was young, and I really appreciated her perspective) said it truly is a "busy" thing and not intentional.  They get lots of texts, calls, emails all day at their jobs; things to attend to and distractions at home, etc, and that text that came in from Mom becomes another thing that, with all good intentions to "get back to her", can fall through the cracks.  She asked me to see that the alternative to this, an unhealthy attachment to me, would be far worse.  They are thriving in their lives.  Celebrate that. (I do!)   She also counseled NOT to reach out as often as I feel I want to.  Too much Mom.  So when I feel like reaching out, sometimes I do; more often I don't.  

The grandgirls, one entering middle school next year and one half-way through high school, have pretty much left our little mutual-admiration-love-fest nest; I've become an "occasional friend", rather time with me being the highlight of their week.  They are exploring their changing lives in totally age-appropriate ways with friends and interests that don't include Hub and me.  I get it.  It's right to be that way and I'm happy to see them growing into themselves.  And still, I miss them.  But now I have a baby grandson who doesn't really know me yet, but will be showered with Grandma love as he grows -- and eventually also grows away.

Ooooo....I'm sounding so whiny here.  And I'm feeling embarrassed and like maybe I'll never hit "publish" on this one.  I feel too vulnerable.  And yet....I cannot possibly be alone in my feelings, can I?  

My parents were very careful about not wanting to be demanding or interfering or "in the way" and maybe I learned that lesson too well.  I know some parents just barge into their adult kids' lives without hesitation.  I don't do that.  I try to respect their time and their boundaries.  I may want more contacts from them, but what I don't want is to have their time with me/us be born of obligation or end in frustration.  It's complicated.

There was a storyline in one of our current favorite shows "The Pitt" where an older couple needed assistance and instead were being stubbornly independent, to their detriment. Their adult daughter tried to help but also had a busy life of her own. It was complicated, but the dad said something like this at one point:  "We know how it feels to be young; but you don't know how it feels to be old."  The next day my socials blew up with older people saying they were moved to tears by this brief storyline, and that bit of dialog in particular.  It's so true.

Going back to my previous blog post: I know what it's like to be young, and busy.  And now I know that much of that busy-ness is wheel-spinning, is often unappreciated even as it's happening, is almost always done with a cost, and eventually is transitory.  

I just watched a documentary on PBS about Bella Abzug, feminist icon and firebrand politician from New York.  (Watching was like a tour of my formative years in the 70's and beyond.  I highly recommend:  "Bella: This Woman's Place Is in the House" PBS American Masters series.)  Anyway, at the end of the show one contemporary of Bella said she worried about Bella's legacy, that it was important to keep her contributions alive.  She had asked her Yale-student granddaughter if she knew Bella Abzug.  Her granddaughter replied she'd never heard of her.  Our legacy is brief and often unheralded beyond the moment.  Bella herself, as she was dying, expressed some concern about what impact her frequent absences during her career had on her daughters.  What is truly important?

I don't know.  There are so many circumstances, nuances, needs, drives, and distractions in life.  The cost of our lives is spent in time.  We all have 24 hours in a day; we all make choices about how we spend those hours.  Busy, yes.  But what we are busy with matters.  I'd love some do-overs about how I spent my busy years.  And I'd love to be able to advise my kids to really be stingy with how they spend their "busy" capital too.  And I do try to gently impart the wisdom I've gained, while also "staying in my lane" and "keeping the welcome mat out and my mouth shut" as is advised in a recent book on being parents of adult children.

I am grateful that my sons and their families all get along with each other and with us.  When we are together there is laughter, sharing stories, lots of food, and big hugs all around.  We do have a Messenger Family Group where we occasionally share news and photos of trips, etc.  So I realize I'm just being a bit greedy with my want for more.  Not a day (or an hour?) goes by when I don't think of one or more of my family and wonder what they are doing, how they are feeling, what's going on in their lives.  I'd love us to share more regularly.  I really don't need every detail of their lives, much of which is none of my business and I don't really want to know about everything.  I'd just like to hear from them more often.  A "thinking of you" text would be nice, right?   

I think the "just let go" advice is hard when the Mommy Heart longs to love and be loved like in bygone days.  I know full well my children are grown, my grandchildren are growing, my own life is winding down.  To reconcile all of that and understand it from all perspectives is perhaps impossible.  We don't all have a time machine.  But I do know what it's like to be young and now I know that not everything is as important as they think it is.  I know what it's like to be growing older, and how important family connections are, perhaps above all else, when it's possible.  It's important to make it possible.  Connection takes effort.

It's also important to make peace with what is.  I'm working on that.

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com

I'M NOT BUSY

I ran into an activist friend at the No Kings event on Saturday.  I had not seen or talked to her much since I left the Leadership Team of our local Indivisible group last spring.  She saw me from a distance, waved, and made a beeline toward me with arms outstretched for a hug.  It was lovely and I was grateful to feel seen and appreciated by her.  

She asked, "How have you been?  Busy?"  And I started to answer the way we all do -- "Oh yes! Busy!  I've been .... blah, blah, blah..."  But I immediately corrected myself after saying, "Yes..." and said, "Actually, no.  I'm not busy.  I don't want to be."

I'm glad I was able to recall my commitment to rigorous honesty in that moment, but also glad I was able to identify for myself that I'm truly not busy!  

Hub and I are doing lots of sorting and clearing of physical items and digital accumulations that stretch back decades.  We both check in after these sorting, tossing, (sometimes) keeping sessions and exclaim to each other that both individually and together we've lived most of our adult lives being "busy".  

We had careers that demanded (too) much time and attention; 

kids who needed everything all the time at various ages and stages; 

a big house and piece of property we mostly tended ourselves with a zillion hours of DIY projects; 

for a time we had a second home 5 hours away that demanded it's own tending; 

cared for aging and fragile parents; attended too many family funerals; 

we volunteered for many, many do-gooder organizations and communities of connection; 

we volunteered for political causes; 

we pursued our own personal growth introspective work alone and with others; 

I did a nine month yoga teacher training;

we led groups; 

served on boards; 

chaired committees; 

facilitated retreats; 

created programs; 

had lots of friends and socialized frequently, often hosting big gatherings in our home both as organizers of this or that and also just to have fun; 

we took vacations and went on work-related trips,

we worked on relationship issues that popped up between us periodically, devoted ourselves to parenting, grandparenting (providing childcare for our infant/toddler granddaughter) -- the hard emotional "busy" that comes with life.

It exhausts me to see the old calendars I uncovered in a file cabinet where each and every day had (often) several notations of appointments, commitments, and responsibilities.  

We also talk now about the toll all of that "busy" took.  We both commit to things whole-heartedly because we believe in what we are doing, think our efforts could benefit others, and want to do a better than a "good job" -- we strive to be excellent.  We both have a bit of a perfectionist streak -- Hub probably for his whole life; me certainly starting in my mid-30s when being a "good enough" mom wasn't good enough at all.  I devoted myself to kids, home, hearth, community, and self-examination constantly, all the time, and with expectations of expertise.  

It sounds like we were strict taskmasters.  Not really.  We were also fun and enjoyed our work, our friends, our kids, our home.  It was just that we were also stressed a lot.  

Hub used his "set a goal and tunnel vision toward it" strategy to the point of shutting out everyone and everything that might stand in the way (me, kids, emotions, feelings).  I used my "you can do this; keep pushing!" pep talks each time I would (frequently) get overwhelmed with negative self-talk and resultant self-loathing because I felt I couldn't keep going or get it 'right', to the point of cyclical bouts of anxiety and depression.  

Hub removed himself to focus on the tasks at hand just as I wanted to cling to him to get some relief and reassurance.  It was not a good combo.  Not until during my most recent work with a therapist, did I understand our patterns were born of attachment bonding wounds going back to childhood.  His "avoidant attachment" (if I am self- sufficient, competent, and totally independent, I won't have to rely on anyone and feel afraid of being alone) and  my "anxious attachment" (if I am good and compliant and I dance as fast as I can on a million pinheads to get your love and attention, I won't have to be afraid of being left behind)... clashed, to say the least.

(OK.  That was a little side-trip into self-knowledge. I can't help myself.  I really should  have been a therapist.  I just love learning why we are the way we are and teaching that to others so that awareness can help to heal and change future behaviors.  You are welcome. 😊)

Anyway, our busyness made us both stressed out and separated from each other in times when together would have been healthier, but who had time for that?

Then Covid.  Together was the only option available.  And "busy" was not really a thing.  Hub continued with a lot of his climate work, spending long hours alone at the computer, but I pretty much went into hibernation.  My biggest lament was not being able to see my family.  But frankly, the relief from other commitments and socializing was a balm to this introvert's soul.  I sort of loved having no obligations.  The world got quiet.  So did I.

And of course that passed and we slowly made our way back to seeing people and doing things, just (for me) at a slower pace and with more intention.  I very consciously do NOT fill up my calendar.  I do not volunteer for much beyond a one-off commitment; for example, I'll do a stint registering voters for the League of Women Voters, when so moved, but I'm not serving on a committee.  I have stepped down from any place that would put me "in charge" or in leadership.  

I took a brief foray into being on the Leadership Team for my local Indivisible but that lasted only 7 months and for many reasons resulted in frustration for me (and an unexpected physical toll), which led to the stark realization that my leadership days were really over.  I devoted myself to doing a good job there, but I ended up with no patience for navigating the organization's growing pains and knew I was the wrong person for the position. I've rarely quit anything I committed to.  It was hard. But I hope they saw my resignation as a gift, and not a snub.

These days I look back with some exhaustion, but also pride in my former life's work.  Still, now I am more and more interested in what brings me contentment, comfort, and joy.  I guess I'm still "busy" but not in the conventional sense.  

At 75, I'm busy learning and growing into this new age and stage of life: slower, quieter, more discerning.  I'm busy finding satisfaction in crocheting blankets for the convalescent center near me, making hearts to give away as part of the Acts of Kindness 1000 Hearts Project, meeting friends for lunch or coffee, showing up at rallies and marches, contacting legislators, keeping an eye out for when/where to get involved in a way that is not draining, having long talks with Hub every morning over coffee and in the evening over dinner before settling into our TV routine, reading cozy mysteries and women-centered novels, practicing yoga (not just the poses but practicing the life-changing, life-affirming yoga philosophy), going for long walks at the waterfront, hanging out with the grandkids, doing a bit of traveling, planning a move to retirement communal living.  

And, falling in love with Hub in a new and beautiful way as we look back at our 58 years together (54 married) and find ourselves with, finally, a "healthy attachment bond".  We are looking forward to what comes next.  Not busy, but alive with love for what's truly important -- family, friends, and each other.

At least, that's the view from here...©

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P.S. Reading this before hitting "publish" I need to add:

My constant companion and true blue support on this crazy journey has been my 40+ years together best friend who has held me, supported me, challenged me, laughed with me, and loved me through it all.  It started with our instant connection in Mother - Baby class and continues now as we grandmother the babies of those babies.  You know who you are.  I love you. ❤️