THIS MOMENT

I've been waiting for a day of high spirits, quirky humor, elation, and excitement to sit down and write this end-of-year post.  This is literally the last day of 2020 and I've not yet found that combination of good cheer to end my blog this year.  So, here goes... 

2020 was hard.  HARD!  But I'm not one to wish for the rapid passage of time.  I see lots of people writing about relief that 2020 is soon behind us.  In my mind, in my life, not one thing will change from today to tomorrow.  "Years" are a human construct; the events of one year or another are just among other long chains of events over time.  It's the present moment that is real...nothing past (only a memory), nothing future (only a guess).  Right now.  Right now.  This is what we have.

I have had to remind myself of this over and over and over again to stay sane in this time of Covid-19.  Fear, anxiety, sadness, loneliness, disappointment, despair, anger, RAGE (I'm looking at you GOP), had to be tempered repeatedly with the mantra "this moment", "this moment", "this moment".  I'm not always successful.  Ask Hub how many times he's had to listen as I processed fear, bitterness, sadness, and despair amongst tears that would not abate.  

But with the passage of time and the determination not to succumb to Depression and Anxiety Demons, over this year (and the previous) I have worked through many of my old behavior patterns, have grown in who I am, strengthening my resilience muscles, trusting my inner wisdom, finding courageous independence, and acting on my own behalf.  I feel I'm no longer swayed in the winds, no longer afraid of invisible monsters (we are all living with one, and know how to keep it at bay!), no longer longing for relationships that cannot be the way I want them to be.  My biggest pandemic lesson -- LET GO!  Or better yet, LET BE!  Embrace me, honor myself, live as I want to live, set boundaries, ask for what I want (I may or may not get it);  but know others will not act upon love as I act upon love: everyone is different, everyone will live as they do, almost no one will do it as I'd prefer, at least as consistently. Let go of longing.  Let go of trying so damned hard.  And just let be what is.

I had hoped (see above) that even with the physical distance, I could somehow (I tried lots of things!) bring my family closer together; we'd check in on each other more often, no longer able to count on seeing each other for those weekly dinners, etc etc.  Nope.  I tried reaching out frequently -- sending messages of encouragement and dropping gifts at doorsteps or in the mail, setting up Zoom calls, creating backyard distanced picnics.  I rarely felt my efforts reciprocated.  Does this mean my family doesn't love me?  That's how it felt to me. I just didn't understand how others would not think to call or text me several times a week.  I have friends who hear from their adult children daily.  DAILY!  Not in this family.  I've done too good a job emptying the nest apparently. 

I know how deeply I'm loved by my sons and their wives, but I can't by force of will create conditions for them to reassure me of that or to want to share the daily details of their lives with me.  So, finally, I stopped.  I wish it was different.  It is not.  A wish is not reality; it is a grasping for what my mind tells me I want.   We share a FB family messenger page and occasional informational texts, very occasional outdoor get-togethers, and holiday Zoom meet-ups.  I received perfect heartfelt gifts for Christmas.  Those avenues have been fun, funny, interesting, satisfying...and I'm grateful for that.  

This is all hard to explain, but the bottom line is this:  Others will live as they do.  I can wish or I can accept.  I choose to accept.  I feel stronger, more independent, and far less sad and disappointed.  Every situation is a choice point.  In the past two years I've had hard choice points to face.  In my marriage I've had to choose to set boundaries, to trust, to let go of expectations, to allow.  In my extended family I've had to choose to hold fast to distancing from those I love in spite of the pain of doing so.  In my own life, I've chosen to explore my inner landscape and to challenge myself to take risks; to move toward willingness which gets me to "yes" more quickly than the "maybe" that kept me dithering with pro and con lists.  I've chosen, over and over, to embrace my life in a way I have not in the past.  It has been a sometimes painful time of transition for me to a stronger more independent and more confident Self.  Some may believe I was always there...they are wrong.  I feel the difference.

So, yes, a new calendar year is on the horizon.  I have no idea what it will hold for me/us.  I am hopeful that a new Administration can begin to rebuild our democracy, right some of the wrongs, bring compassion back to our public policy.  I am hopeful the vaccines for Covid-19 will begin to wrestle this monster to the ground and our lives can again include hugs with loved ones; I am most hopeful my granddaughters will be able to visit us/spend the night and that our previously close relationship will  grow ever closer with shared experiences again. I am hopeful I'll continue to be blessed with physical health, emotional stability, and psychological growth.  Every moment is a choice point: I choose hope. 

Yet still I know all I have is "this moment...this moment....this moment..."

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

Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com

CH...CH...CH...CHANGES

I went to a retreat earlier this month with a group of people all interested in exploring "Life Transitions".  There are transitions at all stages of life, of course.  In fact we are "in transition" every minute of every day.  But this retreat drew folks who were 50 or older, not by design, but by self-selection. All of us are trying to figure out, now that careers are winding down or behind us, children grown and (mostly) independent, health and wellness beginning to demand attention where previously neglect may have reigned...what's next?  How can we create a "Third Act" where we can draw upon our experiences, delve into some old "tapes" that we've told ourselves is true for us, and see if maybe it's time to hit the stop button and find a new story that defines us, perhaps to embrace a life of creativity, integrity, and spirituality in a way that is intentional and satisfying.

Easy, breezy...right?  Well.....not so much.  Looking inside, being vulnerable about ourselves in front of others, struggling with conflicting "wants" and "needs", trying to hold on and let go simultaneously, feeling the crush of grief, the stomach churning grip of fear, the confusion of not knowing.... This is courageous work.  Try it some time.

Our gentle and encouraging facilitator provided us with sketch pad journals, a set of pastels, skill in leading meditations and a sense of safety for exploration.  Before each session, we had a time of guided and silent meditation, then he led us in a variety of exercises that used drawing, writing, and collage to explore our past and create a short-term goal for our future (...."and what will you do by Tuesday?").

One of my favorite exercises was to look back on the "chapters" of our lives and come up with a title for that chapter and draw a picture to illustrate that.  Here's mine:

The Childhood Years -- Hiding in Plain Sight.  The "story" of a quiet, good girl who was invisible much of the time.

The Teen Years -- Filling Out and Fitting In -- The story of a girl who got some attention from boys (nice/confusing) but couldn't seem to fit into the "popular girl clique".

The Young Adult Years -- The Rebel Breaks Free -- The story of finding feminism, breaking free from expectations, and establishing an identity not based on "should".

The Early Middle Years -- Call to Duty -- The story of accepting responsibility, engaging in activism, supporting a husband, raising children, running a household, finding meaningful paid work.

The Later Middle Years -- Emerging Self: Grieving -- The story of exploring an identity not defined by roles; and letting go, letting go, letting go: empty nest, aging/dying parents, leaving the work-world.

Now (Early Later Years?) -- A New Beginning....

It was interesting to briefly thumb through these chapters and get a sense of what was most important in each for helping me become Me, and to think about what those experiences meant for what the future holds.

The final chapter is still to be written, but I am not at that final chapter yet (well, we never really know, do we?).  It excites me to be able to actively create the pages that will lead up to the conclusion of this journey.  I think it will have something to do with intention, with healing, with presence, with mindfulness, with family, and with friends....

Because in every stage, in every chapter there have been many, many, many scenes of grace, of grief, of laughter, and of connection.  I can't imagine that changing.  I can imagine I will learn not to struggle so much, not to try to control so much, to just "be" more, and to live more fully in each precious moment of this precious life, seeking connection to heart, to love, to acceptance, and to joy.

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

RESTING INTO AWAKENING

I have been crocheting for the past two hours, sitting on the sofa, in front of the TV, scrolling through my DVR recordings and getting caught up on shows I watch when I have nothing else going on.  Tonight I have nothing else going on, and I am content.  In fact, more often than not over the past year I've been damn near giddy to realize on many days I don't have anything going on in the evenings.  I planned it that way, having done a self-intervention awhile back about my over-scheduled life; still, it always surprises and delights me that I have actually stuck to it.  I feel happy about it.  And maybe a little concerned....

When I was a teenager, there were uncharitable times when I thought my parents were lazy and boring.  My dad worked 9 hours a day in a textile factory and my mom stood on her feet in her home beauty shop for about the same number of hours 4 days a week, while she also kept up with the housekeeping, cooking, laundry, we children, her own mother living with us, etc., etc.  So when they plopped in front of the TV every evening, my dad with the newspaper in front of his face and my mom knitting or crocheting, I could only think...."Wow! Why don't they do something fun and interesting??? How can they just sit there???"  I vowed that when I had my own children they would see me engaged in worldly pursuits and stimulating activities.  And they did.  I was on zillions of committees and belonged to a number of worthy cause type organizations and attended numerous personal growth groups.  I was out there!  I was making a difference! My life had meaning!  I was having a good time!  I was exhausted!!!

So, now, when I pine for and luxuriate in long quiet evenings of my own making, even when they consist of mindless pursuits like old episodes of Grey's Anatomy or The Office, I both love it and worry about it. I question whether I've succumbed to the dreaded "old person" scourge of hibernation and lack of motivation to engage in the world.  Am I lazy?  Is my brain atrophying?  Is my body weakening?  Do I still have any friends?  Does my family remember me?

I know these are unwarranted fears....not one of them is true, especially that I've somehow dropped out of engagement with life, but such is the tug of needing to feel I'm "active" that any vegging-out time I take, especially when I take lots of it, feels like the kind of dropping out that could easily lead down the slippery slope of "just killing time", a phrase my dad used often in his later years when I would inquire what he was up to.  He'd say, "Oh, not much.  Just killing time."  That seemed so sad to me, to be merely existing.  But who knows?  Maybe it was finally a time for him to think, feel, observe, and just be.  Time was passing for sure, but who am I to say it wasn't the quality time he needed after a long life of hardship and hard work?  Maybe, for him, this time of not keeping time, not being run ragged by responsibilities, obligations, and schedules was the ultimate luxury.

I notice now that evenings at home with Hub, my books, my writing, my crocheting, and my TV shows, feels like a slower life for sure, quieter, much less stressful, and also like a gift....a gift I would enjoy a lot more if I wasn't troubling myself all the time by questioning some deeper, nefarious meaning behind it.  Letting go of old tapes, old judgments, and old fears is another form of the ultimate letting go that is the work of these Eldering years.  I realize maybe I am not "asleep" after all, but awakening to a different way of being.

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