How Does It Feel?

"How does it feel, Mom? I mean, you know, to be your age? Are you scared, knowing that your time is--uh, limited?" I looked at my youngest son, who had just turned 40 and was exhibiting signs of mid-life anxiety. I thought---stunning that you should ask me that---also odd that you think I'm qualified to answer such a question. I had often wondered the same thing, and now I'm supposed to be the one with the answers? Well, "hello",supposedly wise, older mom. Yes, indeedy, I do know how it feels. But did I dare tell him the bald, naked truth? That there are days when I ache all over, when I can't believe how tired I sometimes get, and when I look in the mirror and hardly recognize myself!? And yes, I'm not crazy about the thought of it all ending some day---who is? But that's part of the deal--the fine print at the end." Growing old ain't for sissies". My mother says that a lot. She should know. She's 89, and not the least bit thrilled about it. I don't know anyone who is ecstatic about their older years---just some who seem to have resigned themselves to it, and others who travel constantly as if they're afraid they won't be able to some day---and they're probably right. But not wanting to discourage my son ---and not able to come up with anything profound at the moment, I said---"You get used to it". How wise was that? Not very--so I followed with, "I'll get back to you on that"---here's getting back.

TEN GOOD THINGS ABOUT GETTING OLD-E--R

1. You have pretty much become who you are going to be when you grow up and there's a sense of emancipation, relief, and joy in that. And, a certain amount of curious respect that comes with old age--like somehow we are to be admired for having survived life!

2. Authenticity becomes more important and easier to spot---no more time for phonies, fakes or disingenuousness---in yourself or others. Getting real, being real, seeking real, is a good thing and only comes with lots of practice. But don't confuse being real with rudeness ---I'll take a little kindness any day, even if it's not totally authentic.

3. Living in the moment becomes more important--- enjoying the sunsets, the snow falls, the rain, the good and even the bad---every last sweet or bitter drop of it make up this life and you realize it's all part of the journey that enriches, teaches, and makes the trip not just a ride, but an incredible experience. Did we really think it would be a box of chocolates?

4. You learn to roll, instead of railing at all the injustices, offenses, petty or serious grievances---most things sort themselves out in time, and are not worth the angst we give them. "Cut negative", a film makers' term, which means, at some point, to stop editing,snipping, re-playing, and striving for perfection, is a good thing to apply to ourself and to others. You give up on perfection---except for your hair, which for some of us is never perfect and which might be a good thing to ask for in your next life.

5. Regrets become not so regretful, as we slowly, sometimes painfully realize that some dreams were never meant to be, and that for the most part things are unfolding as they were meant to do. In addition, many of your fears melt as you realize most of them were illusions, and of your own making.

6. Regret free and fearless, almost, you learn to relax, to leisurely read a good book, simply soak up the sunshine on a lazy day,and to finally realize that we are, like the earth, floating in an infinite sky with a Source that knows the way, wishes us well, and will bring us home again.


7. You get "senior" discounts to lots of things---and finally don't mind.

8. You get to enjoy the fruits of your labors, which turn out to be mostly---your children, grandchildren, or your garden,your art, or your spouse---some of which you had all along, and didn't have time or wisdom to appreciate.

9. You finally see that growing old ,is just a bodily function. Growing up is a different thing. The mind, the spirit, the soul are always young---if you let them. That's the growing up part--you grow up and away from the physical limitations--and realize you are more than the sum of your parts!

10. On a clear day you can see forever, and the view is, if not certain, filled with spectacular possibilities. The serendipity of life, so deliciously unknown,draws us forward to see what's around the next bend--maybe the perfect hair day!

So, there it is, my son. Can't you just hardly wait to be old now? It's a party! You don't want to miss it, but you don't want to arrive too early either. You'll get invited soon enough, and before you know , one of your children will be asking , "How does it feel, Dad?" You can always say, "You get used to it ".

Game On!!!

Be sure to catch a bit of the Health Care Summit on TV Thursday, Feb. 25th, for riveting "bi-partisanship" in action. Think politics is boring? Not this time, folks. Look at the cast and plot. Some Republicans say it's more of a set-up than a summit---that it's a done deal and they are just being invited so that they can be labeled either negative or un-cooperative. Likewise, some Democrats think no matter what, the Republicans will stubbornly not agree to anything other than starting over with a new bill. Harry Reid,Senate Majority Leader,and ready for a fight, says he's going to push the current bill through with or without the Republicans. President Obama is bringing his own bill to the table. And don't forget us--the ironical, not eligible to play, winners or losers of this contentious contest--depending on which side you're rooting for. Game on!! We shall see how much co-operation from both sides occur---not gonna happen probably. But maybe they will surprise us,sit down,and say "what can we do to make this thing work so that we can all feel we've had a part, blended the best of our ideas, made some compromises, put the country ahead of our politics and hammer out a bill that we can all live with ?" wouldn't that be nice--and next to impossible? Hope lives eternal. Whatever happens, it's history---and our future in the making. And we have a front row seat!

Got Change?

Once when I was very young, about 17, someone asked me if I thought I'd change very much when I grew up. It seemed a very deep question at that time, as I hardly knew what I would change from, let alone to. But from time to time I would think about it and wonder---have I changed yet? Change comes slowly for most of us, I think, and some things never do. They say our personalities are pretty much set by age five. But back then, I believed anything was possible,and that I could fly if I just had the right cape! But change does come. It happens little by little with every person we meet, every new place or country we visit, every book we read, every new idea that comes our way, every new love, every birth of one's child, every heart break, every sorrow, every new found joy---all bring their own epiphanies. Traumatic, life altering incidents not withstanding, the changes happen so slowly one hardly notices. Then one day, you realize that you are different---the truth of the world and life were always there, but you have finally more or less caught up with it all. Now, instead of seeing through childlish, rose colored glasses, we see clearly--or do we? Are we really seeing the truth, or are we seeing things through a warped lens, created and limited by our individual experiences, and the influence of others in authority with great power to persuade? What if there is a higher, more pure truth that is free from all emperical evidence, waiting to be seen and felt? I think children feel it in their every day joy of living, and then slowly lose it as "being" becomes not so light. But some people who have endured many burdens of pain and disappointment, have managed to transcend all and have risen to a higher plane of conciousness. They seem calm, in control, happy even, and content. They have found their own oasis in the middle of worldly and even personal chaos. I think of people like Lady Byrd Johnson, who in the face of much criticism and turmoil during her husband's presidency said, in effect, " I cannot help but feel optimistic". Or Ronald Reagan's sunny disposition which led a country out of despondency. Or of Jesus Christ, who said, "I am the way, the truth and the life,---- and the truth shall set you free." Of what truth was he speaking ? I don't think it came from other people or books or movies or the media.

A very wise man once cautioned me to not let other people's opinions suddenly become mine. He said opinions are just that--someone else's ideas or beliefs, not necessarily the truth. Remain true to yourself he said. Well, I'm sorry, but that can take a lifetime -- and then some. The great challenge is to find your best self in the clatter and clutter of living, and not let the inevitable bruising and battering of life derail you from what you are meant to become-- whole, fully realized, and clear eyed. Instead, let life teach, burnish and polish you .Then, after you've done your best , rise above it all --- float you might say, to a place called, if not Truth,Peace. Ah, to do that would be to live fully, joyously, and free from agonizing guilt, regrets, anger, resentment, grudges, hurts, bitterness. Is that what is meant by the "peace that passeth all understanding"? Am I there yet? No, I'm more tarnished than burnished. More scratched than polished. And I'm running out of time. But, I'm not quite grown up yet, anything is possible and ---a really good cape would help.

Sometimes I wonder about the person who asked me that profound question ---did he change? Would we still recognize each other? But, then again---maybe all he meant was ---wouldl I still like Disneyland and Hot Fudge Sundays when I'm 70? I do----more than ever!

I SEE YOU

If you haven't seen the much talked about movie," Avatar"---go! It is a masterpiece of film making, from the gorgeous, other worldly visuals, to the story line, to the fantasy scenes of flying animals and people and of course, the 3D effects. I was mesmerized and did not want to leave the planet of Pandora and the Na'vi tribe who inhabit it. But there was one line of dialogue that struck me and has stayed with me almost more than anything else in the movie. At one point, the character who plays the Nav'vi young woman must teach her tribe's culture to the strange young man who has mysteriously entered their midst. Finally she falls in love with him. No surprise there , but what she said to him was a refreshing and insightful line---she said, "I see you". Not "I love you". She had not even liked him at first and was suspicious and disdainful of him. But because she was forced into spending time with him, she came to know him, not just as a stranger. She saw beyond his mask, which in the case of the movie, was truly a fantastical visage which transformed him during a sort of time travel to Pandora. "I see you" meant I see the real you, through all the outer layers, and I find you worthy of my love. It was a lovely, incandescent moment of human connection. It reminded me of rare moments I have either seen or experienced when one being connects with another---even strangers.

Once, when on an adventure trip in a very primitive, third world country, trekking among a stone tribe of an ancient culture, where our guides and porters did not speak our language, I was fearful and anxious regarding our safety. How could these people, who only years ago were still cannibalizing each other, possibly care for us? What were we doing here? Had we over estimated our physical abilities? But as we came to know these men, I forgot my fears completely and trusted my life to them. We never spoke words to each other, but our eyes ultimately said everything---I see you, I trust you, I will not betray you, no matter what you look like, or we to you. I would watch in the evenings as they left us and drew together in their own company. They would sing and laugh and connect with each other in ways I rarely see in our culture. I envied their ability to be totally themselves, happy, unencumbered with inhibitions, egos, or false pretenses. They saw each other quite easily. I hope they will not lose that ability when they inevitably become "civilized", for that often gets lost as we learn other traits, such as reserve, suspicion, mistrust, judgment, and withholding of our true selves.

Of all the things I learned from that excellent adventure, I mostly remember the eyes of the people I met ---their concern and empathy when I collapsed in exhaustion at the end of an all day trek, when my brother fell down a steep ravine and injured himself, when we looked in utter disbelief and terror at -- an actual swinging, suspension bridge hung over raging water. It was made of rope and broken, uneven wooden slats , and we needed to somehow walk across it without losing our balance and falling into the river below. Always they were there to help, guide, and comfort us. We were so different from each other, but so much the same at our core. Humor found us all as our bare footed friends curiously looked at our shoes and boots--as if to say, why bother with those boxes, when your bare feet would work just as well or better. Their giggles and expressions were gently teasing, never ridiculing. In contrast, when we first saw these people in their native dress, which was almost complete nakedness, we had to stifle our somewhat shocked stares and embarrassment. But they saw us, and found us worthy of their kindness and their service. I saw them back.

I will never make it to the moon much less the planet of Pandora, but the wonder that happens when one really sees another can happen every day. So, the next time one of my grand daughters says, " Grandma, Grandma---look at me!" I'm going to try a little harder to "see" all there really is to see.

My Old Flame

He had me at first glance

His name was William

But I called him Billy

So did everyone else

Billy had the curliest blonde hair I had ever seen

And the bluest eyes, too

His freckles only added to his allure

And his smile was to die for

Billy was a man of few words--shy, you might say

To a fault, you might say

Boring you might also say

But that didn't matter at the time

He was the cutest I had ever seen

And that counted for a lot back then

But cute doesn't cut it if that's all

And that was about all there was to Billy.

Our romance didn't last long--about one week, as I recall

Love is fickle

So was Billy

He was also five

So was I

Wherever you are, Billy

I don't care about you anymore

But I still remember you

Happy Valentine's Day!