Old Age Day by Day January 31, 2011

At my friend's workshop I worked on valentines. I thought I could take them up when I visit my granddaughter, and we could embellish them together. She has plans for me - she has already warned me. Not quite three, she is the ruler of all she surveys. I am but her humble subject.

We had a nice dinner last night at one of those places where small plates means a plate the size of a saucer with only one quarter of it covered in anything edible. So for six people, we would need slightly under fifty plates to feel full, and it would take all night to be served. Let's face it, these places are for people who have so many cocktails they don't notice that they haven't actually eaten. Our younger son was starved, and probably swung by McDonalds on his way to our daughter's apartment for the birthday cake. Needless to say, everyone had a large helping, even I, who was actually full enough, but tense from the restraint of not ordering twenty two small plates for myself. I do NOT eat sugar, but somehow, intending to have only one bite, I ATE THE WHOLE PIECE. Oh, dear.

I need to purge myself, no doubt, but instead, I had pineapple and blueberries, tea and shredded oats with milk and banana. Somehow, there is a renewed fear of starvation triggered by last night's dinner. In the movie "The Way Back" the escaping prisoners came upon wolves eat some poor beast, and they drove the wolves off to take their place. It was that kind of vibe that gripped me and I must now calm down. In real life, I am a chubby lady with no experience of lack of food, and I have never been deprived in my life. Well, except for these small plate restaurants, which are fine in Spain, because, after all, you're in Spain, but inappropriate in the land of biggie sized and triple quarter pounders.

Old Age Day by Day January 30, 2011

It rained all night. I think we needed it and the air is so fresh. My husband and I did a Saturday night double feature, seeing the 1930s Alice in Wonderland with Cary Grant and Gary Cooper and many other great actors of the 30s, then watched Inception. So we were into dreamlife last night. I found the Alice charming, thought being in black and white seemed illogical. But it had a delightful actress as Alice, and a lot of funny bits, plus animation woven in. Inception struck us both as a film with too many loose threads and messiness, when it should have played to its strengths. My husband said it was a movie with two characters and a bunch of action heroes, and that was one of it's major problems. Marion Cotillard and Leonardo di Caprio were first rate, but they made everyone else seem cardboard. I wanted to see more of the theme of loss and memory, but Nolan muddied the waters with too much talk and not enough coherence. And the "architecture" of the scenes was not original enough or interesting, except for the one scene with the streets going perpendicular (an idea stolen from those laminated maps of Paris that I use when I travel there) and the glass doors. Ellen Page was horribly miscast as the architect, and it hurt the whole movie. I am still in love with Ken Watanabe. That love will never die.

After two dream themed films, the only dream I remember having is about my baseball team winning the World Series, so evidently I would be a totally banal architect. And it probably says something about Inception, that it did not disturb me, which, if it was a great film, it would do. Alice, well, Alice is a delight, but not troubling in any way. Her dream seems benign, and logical as well, even if there is a political metalanguage throughout. In her world, escape is possible, and return comforting, with all the frustrations and confusions worked out. Her dreaming resolves conflicts.

Well, back to the Sunday papers, and then my mystery, until I do a collage workshop and have dinner with our kids for our older son's birthday. The days are whizzing by like a dream, and this part of growing older is definitely disturbing!

Old Age Day by Day January 29, 2011

My husband went to the doctor! And he had a sinus infection! And he's taking medicine! What is it with men and doctors, anyway? They won't do checkups, they don't take the preventative tests, they seem to expect their signifigant others to diagnose and medicate with meat loaf and mashed potatoes. It's not that men are from Mars and women from Venus, it's that they are such strikingly different life forms that no interspecies interaction is possible (except for, you know). The brains, the languages are too different for even possible translations.

But he's in the hands of professionals now. And his doctor, a woman, by the way, persuaded him by saying "Go ahead and have a stroke, you big dummy" or something to that effect. The sheer force of her anger woke him out of his slumber, and like Sleeping Beauty, he took the apple, or whatever. The metaphor is too banal, even for me.

He's sleeping as I speak, because he actually got some medical help with his cough. Which meant I slept much better last night, and had no dreams of Thomas the Engine struggling uphill or tubercular wards in the mountains of Switzerland. Relief!

At least until next time he won't do the rational thing and prefers to analyze his condition by remote control and the help of a gullible wife.

Old Age Day by Day January 28, 2011

It's foggy this morning and the pictures in the paper show a snowed in east coast. Well, it is only January. Where I live it's easy to forget. But when we lived in Colorado, January was the coldest month and it would not get above O the whole time. The ice is hard to deal with: on the windshield, sidewalks, the black ice on the roads. Those were the days when I would drive to a nearby mall and stroll the baby round and round and round. That was if I could get out of my own driveway. The garage was behind the house, so it was a long driveway to shovel. Ugh!

So perhaps even here today is a good day to read and snuggle up with the dogs. I have about a dozen books next to my side of the bed, and, as usual, I've begun half of them, then switch, then back again. I'm a restless reader nowadays. And then when I discover a book that really grabs my attention, I devour it. The best is to discover a new author and have a bunch of other books to buy after I finish the first. But that is rare for me. I'm not really a snob, I just have trouble being gripped by novels especially. Mysteries are easier, and non-fiction. I've heard "Unbroken" by Laura Hillebrand, is great, so maybe I'll try that.

In the meantime, there are chores and phone calls and a cake to buy for our son. But I haven't quite discovered the carrot to get me through the day.

Old Age Day by Day January 27, 2011

I just returned from the eye doctor and am fuzzy visioned at best. Please excuse any typos. I become a nervous wreck when I have to do that test where you punch a mouse when you see the light flash. It makes me so jumpy I'm pressing out of anticipation, and seeing lights all over the place. And keeping my eye on the middle light is a tough challenge when my eye wants to search the field and seek and destroy. This must be similar to video games where the player is shooting the enemy with lightning speed. I find all my competitive instincts warring with the knowledge that this is supposed to be an accurate assessment of my field of vision TO HELP ME. Oops!

I guess I went a little crazy, but anyway, though I needed a new prescription for my glasses, all was well, and I treated myself to new sunglasses in green and regular glasses in turquoise. My old ones were so ancient he couldn't find the records. I'm sick of them, and in a week or so I'll be a whole new woman. Or something.

While I was waiting in the room for the tests, another lady my age began joking about filling out the forms, and we had a nice conversation for a few minutes. How delightful these serendipedous encounters can be. Instead of patients, we became interesting individuals for a few minutes, flexing our humanity in the face of waiting rooms and shuffling offices. It's instinctive to insist that we have senses of humor, and can be good natured, but also appreciate that little bit of acknowledgement we gift each other with. Aren't people amazing?!

Old Age Day by Day January 26, 2011

I'm about to go get a haircut. This involves being careful to never look in the mirror at myself, and pretending to look with the hand mirror at the back of my head. I do not want to contemplate myself in such a public fashion. As I have said before, my idea of hell on earth is to be stuck in a salon with people doing facials, manicures and the like. I do not enjoy public grooming. It's not that I hate my face, I don't, but comparing my face to the ones with mascara who are decades younger is not my idea of a treat.

So I will gird my loins and pay way to much to have a 1/4 inch trim, but it is necessary, as I have unruly, fast growing, tangly hair, and it needs trimming. When I leave I will feel like a pardoned prisoner looking up at the sky after a long sentence. It will feel sunnier, the sky bluer, the breeze gentle.

And after I go home and rewash and dry my hair, getting rid of the style and spray, I will feel my usual, messy self, only deliberate, not chaotic.

Old Age Day by Day January 25, 2011

My husband has had a cough for months and months, but won't see the doctor. It's his business, but he makes it mine by acting as if I can diagnose him. I find this surpassingly strange, as I am not of the scientific bent, and though I have a few friends who are doctors, no medical know-how has rubbed off that I can see. He feels safe with me, he doesn't with the doctors, but what he forgets is that I am useless. I am mightily sick of hearing about his cough, and I mean in both senses. He keeps me up at night coughing, or coughing, getting up and going downstairs for tea, and in the daytime he wants to discuss it. It's a pretty boring topic, at this point. I am sympathetic, but have no new advice. Go to the doctor. Don't go to the doctor and try homeopathic medicine or acupuncture. Drink tea and sleep sitting up.

We've been married a long time. I'm kind and supportive - and then - I am done and just want him to solve his own problem. There is a statute of limitations on complaining and I have now reached it in regard to the subject of coughs. All complaints must now be addressed to a higher authority - either spiritual, medical or strangers on the street. When I'm done, I'm done.

Old Age Day by Day January 24, 2011

Well, the quarterback from my alma mater is going to be in the Superbowl, and I saw a great film yesterday, and watched a very good film last night - A Picture of Dorian Gray. It won best cinematography Oscar for that year, and it is in wonderful black and white with huge attention to set details. Angela Lansbury was fabulous, and George Saunders his usual coniving self, this time as a kind of Oscar Wilde mouthpiece, but sinister instead of light and witty. Peter Lawford played the handsome swain who loves the heroine, as he did in Little Women around the same time. I'm glad I bought the movie for $5. Well worth it. Not as good as Gaslight or Rebecca, but of that era and type of film.

It's another cool, crisp sunny day, and I'm thinking of planting all the narcissus bulbs that are in the house in the front garden. I hope I have strength enough to dig them in. I know it will feel magical to imagine them next year popping up like a surprise. Bulbs are fun.

And I must dig out another leftover from the freezer. We've sworn to only eat leftovers until the freezer is less packed. It's a tough job but somebody has to do it.

Old Age Day by Day January 23, 2011

I'm going with a friend to see an extremely depressing movie, "The Way Back", by Peter Weir. Luckily, I'm in a cheerful enough mood to see it today. And we just like to talk movies anyway. We are able to chat away about anything and nothing. I am an admirer of Peter Weir, and enjoy following his work. I really loved "Master and Commander"and two of my favorite movies are "The Last Wave" and "Fearless". But the Soviet Gulag is quite a subject - I'm not sure I ever wanted to know more about it. But now I guess I will. This is going to be an unwilling education.

My husband will be busy watching football playoffs, but I must admit, my interest in that is waning. I couldn't last the season. I'm thinking BASEBALL. I can't help it. The players are signing up, the weather is warming up, I get my emails with special deals for opening day. And it is my favorite sport. I'm afraid football, with all it's concussions and heartwarming stories can't hold a candle to it. The injuries in baseball are kinder, gentler injuries, rarely caused by another player. There are more games, so my attention can weave in and out with impunity. And the tickets are way cheaper.

I guess the playoffs I'm gearing up for are the Oscars. Equally silly, but with better costumes. Tuesday they announce the nominees, and then the bets begin, as well as the recriminations of who was left out and how my favorite movie was not nominated. It's fun. This year I have made no attempt to see all the front runners, and I'm therefore more relaxed and less movied-out. We will see our own underdog Sandra Bullock alive and well, after a year from hell, and we'll feel better ourselves for surviving her surviving. It's a goofy world, but entertaining.

Old Age Day by Day January 22, 2011

I went to a study group this morning, then had lunch with some of the members. We went to a tea bar and had bubble tea and sandwiches. They had never had bubble tea. It was a big success. I've introduced four people to bubble tea this week. What fun! This is group that I've now known a very long time, and it has the positive aspects of family and friends, as well as the bond of common intention. We are all Buddhists struggling to be awake and aware and change old patterns that are not working for us. Our issues are the same: settling limits and boundaries, not harming others or ourselves, interconnecting with other beings in the world.

They are my pals, and seeing them gives me a boost, and redirects me on the path I've chosen. I get my head screwed back on straight. There is nowhere to hide with these individuals. They KNOW me. It's scary and terrific. It's like Harry Truman's "The Buck Stops Here". And there is such a relief not to have to wear any disguises, even if I wanted to it wouldn't work with this group, so we just skip all the crap.

I have other friends whom I relate to in similar ways, as well as my husband, but only these people and a couple of my swim buddies pals have the exact same goals I do. Well, them and a few million Buddhists everywhere.

Old Age Day by Day January 21, 2011

I didn't make it to my chorus last night. Our older son was over, and I wanted a bit more time with him, as I don't see him that often. He's such a dear man, and so sweet with my husband and I. I feel gratitude for living long enough to see my children become adults, and I do mean adults. They make me proud. What a fine balance it takes to listen, not give advice when it's not asked for, and not "take over" the conversation. I'm still learning how, and there seems to be no manual.

At least I realize I don't necessarily know what is best for them, and I've got no idea about the economy, or houses, or work versus school. So much of it is luck. We've owned four houses and the first one doubled in value in 4 years, the second on had to be sold in a housing slump and barely paid off the mortgage, the third made a little money, and I really have no idea what our current house is worth. It depends on the day, the market, the emotions of people who buy or don't buy. Intangibles.

Was grad school worth it? A lot of income was lost to do what we dreamed of, and it hasn't been made up for, but we have worked at what we love. How do you measure?

We had kids at crazy times - with little or no financial security. Both times I was in grad school I had kids - 2 toddlers the first time, three kids and pregnant with the fourth at the end the second time. Was it hard? You bet. Did it make any rational sense? Not hardly. Do I regret it? Never.

Don't know. I don't really know when I make a decision what is in the future. Not personally, not Nationally, not with Mother Nature. It's forever stepping off the cliff, and then sort of flying by letting the wind lift me where it will.

Old Age Day by Day January 20, 2011

We had quite a windstorm last night and something was banging, keeping us awake. It turned out not to be in our yard, whatever it was, but between the noise, the crying of the wind and the thought of our huge cedar trees in front and back, we didn't get much sleep. There is debris from trees everywhere, and it's still pretty windy. Wind like that is unsettling, and it seems to be heralding a rise in temperature for the rest of the week. This happens to us this time of year. It could also happen in Colorado, when we lived there.

I'm off to have bubble tea with a friend and look at yarn and putz around. My favorite non-destination type of destination. A gentle wandering in good company. The rest of the day will be packed with business, so I'm going to make the most of the morning. At my age, I don't like to be rushed.

Old Age Day by Day January 19, 2011

I am in a better mood today, despite spending and hour and a half getting a temporary crown put in my mouth at the dentist's. I noticed, as I was immobilized and my mouth stretched to the size of a basketball, that the mind has to do a lot of calming itself down to get through the gagging reflexes and the goo in the back of the throat and the urge to bite the dentist's hand. At one point, he lost a big blob of cotton and asked if I'd swallowed it. He never found it, but I figured if I got it down it would come out. I know this from having seen one of my dogs poop up five whole socks in one memorable weekend. I was just glad the dentist didn't lose a drill or something more horrific.

But what I was noticing mostly is that I trusted him, and I could relax my hands when they clenched, and keep my bite firm when necessary and take deeper breaths when the thought crossed my mind that I could not breathe. I could cooperate, follow instructions, and appreciate that this was a difficult process. It's not fun. It's not easy. But it occurred to me it might be good practice for even more unpleasant procedures, and for pulling up inner resources when challenging situations arise. I've got my breathing, my breath, and my mind, which can sort through instincts and choose, wow, choose, to cooperate with the dentist so my health will be better.

I've been cooperating with my doctor in that way as well. Choosing what makes sense, instead of staying away out of fear. I don't usually give myself any credit for any of this ordinary stuff, but today, today I feel I done good.

Old Age Day by Day January 18, 2011

My husband and I were restless last night. I guess he was having a series of dreams about work, and I was worrying about something that hasn't even happened yet and probably won't, and I couldn't get back to sleep. I finally conked out as the alarm went off, and that is a mighty frustrating feeling. I feel like my fur has been rubbed all wrong. Yes, I feel a fur pelt on my back, like wolfwoman Jane. The walk with the dogs helped improve my mood, and sending an email about the thing I was worrying over. It's amazing how the mind busies itself with problems it both invents and expands upon.

There are probably a number of things I should be concerned about, but I can't think of any of those right now, so I'd best be getting back to the here and now. The possibly-in-the-future scenarios are really wasting my valuable time. I have an exercise video to do, I need eggs and fruit, and must make the phone calls I was going to last night but put off.

So if you bump into anyone growling like a bear whose hibernation has been disturbed, it's just me, attempting to shrug off a dose of irritability the size of a grizzly.

Old Age Day by Day January 17, 2011

I'm thinking I want to catch up with people who didn't send a holiday card - because so many of them I only connect with once a year. I accidentally dialed one friend, but couldn't really talk at that point, but tonight I'm going to attempt to reach her. There are a couple more friends I've not heard from as well. This card thing is a good reminder to me to keep up with people. Especially as, like all of us, I've lost addresses and not been able to find out what happened and regretted it. My friend, the one I'm for sure going to call, has had a really hard life, with a lot of blows she didn't deserve, and I know how hard she struggles to keep it all together. She lives two states away, so we don't see each other often - every few years, and yet we're simpatico when we do. I've been luckier. There is no doubt about it. Life is not fair.

I struggle not to feel guilty at my luck, and to be supportive even if the other person is not at her best. I'm not going to run away from a friend because I feel guilty. But it is hard, and I have to constantly examine my own motivation, to see if it's sincere and devoid of pity. I don't want to diminish my friend in any way. This is background work, and it has to happen before the call, so that we are sharing equally and I'm not problem solving or rescuing, as I'm prone to doing. There is a reason my Buddhist teacher makes me keep a toy ambulance on blocks on my altar.

Old Age Day by Day January 16, 2011

Today is another beautiful day, but, if I squeeze in a walk, it will be after a morning football game and before the Golden Globes. Body slams and fancy dresses. What could be better? I don't usually like to watch football, especially pro ball, but I am following a quarterback and two receivers on two different teams who I used to see live at my alma mater Saturday games. So, in a way, it's still college ball, at least for me. No excuses for the Golden Globes, I just like to see the outfits.

Perhaps today best describes my split personality - I got the sports fever from my Dad and the fluffy stuff from my Mom. They were so opposite, and it's no wonder I'm confused.

Today is Sunday, and on Sundays I let myself fritter away the day. First I stay in my pjs while I read the paper in a leisurely fashion, then I slowly pick out clothes, get dressed and decide if I'm getting in the car or walking today. I believe today will be a walking day. Then I check that I have a book to read that is fun and gripping, otherwise, as a security blanket, I will be forced to walk to my favorite bookstore seven houses away and acquire an emergency tome. Then I check the refrigerator - is there a fruit I like? Have I a beverage that appeals? Then I see what my husband's plans are for the day - not so I can go with him, but to see if I need to call a friend. Because his plans run to sports on TV, suduku, puzzles and the sports section. He also likes to eat out for lunch, though he can never name a place. So we agree to eat together or not. If I won't, he will go to Wendy's for takeout - you can bet the farm on it.

But I like to keep fluid as well. So maybe a friend will call, or one of our kids, or I'll decide I need to check out a store or look for new light bulbs for the kitchen or one of the endless errands that need doing, and maybe, just maybe, I will feel like tackling them. Vacuuming is always an option, and we do accomplish all our cleaning on the weekends. But only about one tenth as often as we ought.

So, hey, here I go. I'll check out the game, and then mosey on down to the store for bosc pears and lite popcorn, and from there we'll see where it goes.

Old Age Day by Day January 15, 2011

It's warmed up considerably, and my husband and I took the dogs on a walk around a reservoir, and I'm happily sweaty and feeling healthy. Sunshine is an amazing mood elevator, and it hints of spring and longer days and bulbs coming up. We did a double feature last night at home: Mr. and Mrs. Smith and Red River. The first was fun, with a whole lot of chemistry between the stars and a plotline that didn't make sense. The second is a classic, which I had not seen since I was a kid watching it on TV. It was Montgomery Cliff's first film, and he is as commanding as Marlon Brando, only more beautiful and nuanced. John Wayne is good, too, and it's about the first cattle drive from Texas to Abilene on the Chisolm Trail. There is even a real Cherokee Indian with a good role as one of the cowboys, and two spunky gals without enough lines played by Colleen Gray and JoAnne Dru. It's in black and white, said to be Howard Hawks' attempt to outdo John Ford. It's got a few points where the plot needed expansion, but overall gives the feeling of what a cattle drive was in those days, and the kind of guys who rode with it.

Then I finished a very good mystery by Lescroat, and settled in for a long winter's nap. What the rest of today holds for me is yet to be discovered, but I'm ready for lunch, a stroll, more reading, or a spot of shopping. Somehow the warm weather makes me think of shoes. Spring shoes. Shoes in bright colors. No black.

Old Age Day by Day January 14, 2011

Last night began the next session of my chorus, and I begrudgingly dragged myself there, because the tenor I was singing with before was not going to sing this time, and I was the lone tenor, and I was sick of the songs, etc, etc. I was majorly grumpy. We warmed up, three new people came in, we sang our first song and I held my part all alone, and the baritone gave me a thumbs up and a wink, and I could remember why I was in this chorus. Then the new woman singer said she'd sing tenor, and now there are two of us, and though I'm five feet tall and round, and she is over six feet and thin as Abe Lincoln, we sounded pretty darned good.

We are talking about doing some flash mob singing out in public in February - maybe the subway, Macy's or a nearby laundrymat. That should be really fun.

I came home cheerful and determined to practice (the last part may not last long, but it's a nice thought).
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Then this morning we discovered someone broke the lock on our garage door, but didn't take anything, maybe because the dogs barked at around eleven pm and I forced my husband to get up and let them out. The lights may have scared off whoever. The cars were locked, and the garage is so filled with junk that it would be impossible to find anything of value. Yes, there is an old Yamaha motorcycle, but the battery is dead and you can't get it out; it's wedged. My bicycle was invisible behind driftwood that my husband's iguana had in his cage, and the rest is papers and pads for the patio furniture and an a broken cedar chest, and a CD cabinet that is outdated and two enormous iguana cages. You get the picture. I think the burglar got so depressed he gave up.

This happened once before, when we were camping in Custer State Park in South Dakota, and 17 campsites had their cars broken into, while everyone was asleep in their tents, but we were spared, because our VW van was so chock a block with debris from three kids that it looked like a dump site. We were the only ones not broken into, because nothing of value was apparent. And they weren't wrong, there was nothing of value, unless action figures, juice boxes, maps and rocks and gum wrappers are what you collect.

So I see a theme here: the messier I am, the safer I am. That's the kind of encouragement I like!

Old Age Day by Day January 13, 2010

It's sprinkling out; just a very gentle rain. Nature is being kind here, but in Brisbane and other places there is suffering. It's easy to see how aboriginal peoples saw meaning in all of this lightning, thunder and shaking of the earth. If I was inclined that way, I'd say this rain is the tears of people in Arizona and the relief that Ms. Giffords has opened her eyes. But the earth has other concerns. It struggles to survive, and whatever stretching and storming that requires we are a witness to, but not able to control.

All gone in an instant - the structures of humans - we should remember that. I saw a photo in the newspaper this morning of a man in Queensland carrying a small kangaroo in knee high water. It touched me so much. I know that thousands of kangaroos have been deliberately exterminated due to their population mushrooming. But here was a man who could not bear to stand by and watch one living thing die. And the kangaroo was so relaxed and trusting in his arms. Interspecies aid. Like the people who took pets after Katrina, so they would not suffer and die wandering looking for their owners.

We are capable of great compassion. It is our best quality, I believe. I hope we exercise it more and not less.

Old Age Day by Day January 12, 2010

I bought a 60% off Christmas ornament yesterday, not for the tree, but to put on my altar. It's a black bear, made out of plastic, which is realistic, not cutesy. I definitely have the bear as my totem animal, and it represents fear in it's scary aspect and nurturing in it's benign aspect. Recently, my husband was retelling for the umpteenth time (this is definitely a downside of marriage) how I read "Night of the Grizzlies" in Yellowstone Park when we were camping at Madison Campground, and got myself so nervous that early the next morning I almost bumped into what I thought was an bear (I didn't have my glasses on) but turned out to be a huge elk. What he didn't tell was that some campers had been killed in their tent, and a teenager mauled when he took a trail that was closed because of bear sightings. I wasn't imagining the danger, I was just magnifying it.

Now, I didn't place this bear on the altar because I want to rid myself of fear. Just the opposite. I want to get comfortable with it, since no one gets rid of their fears. I just don't wish to overreact or let my fears rule my life. I accept fear as part of the accoutrements of a human being. I don't knock myself for having feelings of fear, as I used to do. I'm attempting to establish a relationship. I'm on the lookout for patterns that get in my way. I don't call the bear cuddly, this is not a teddy, I see how big it is, how many teeth there are, the size of the claws. I am respectful.

Is the bear death, loss, change? It can be anything. Fear arises. It proves I'm still alive and awake, and treasuring my life. It may help me protect myself. I just want it to sit in the room with me and stay in its corner. No rampaging around the room. But I won't deny it's there, with the rest of the crowded furniture and books and people. The room is my mind, and I'm old enough to organize the clutter now.

Old Age Day by Day January 11, 2010

A very gloomy looking day today - humm, I need a plan of attack to lift my spirits. I do have a lunch date with a dear friend. There is always a matinee to escape to, except I'm not sure there is anything out right now I'm dying to see. I rummaged through a bookstore yesterday, so that's out. My exercise video that I've been avoiding awaits me, but how much mental help can it be? I have a mystery I'm reading, but it is awfully over the top, with evil fighting good and old Nazis. It's not quite doing the trick. The news is definitely out. I have no great snacks in the house. I already called my best friend last night. My granddaughter is at preschool.

This task requires SuperGeezer! Mild mannered and gray haired, short and almost invisible, with vision that requires superspectacles and side mirrors, Supergeezer can save the day. She can dance, she can sing, she can avoid sugar (her anti-food) and find blueberries from Chile if she dares.

Or, she can go with the flow, do that seventies thing, and see what comes up, Tiger Lily. What will this day bring? Will I notice it when it's brought? Will I notice after it's over? Does it matter? Moment by moment, the day is unfolding. Cheers!

Old Age Day by Day January 10, 2010

Today is a friend's birthday, and we met yesterday and had tea and saw an art show nearby her house. She has an unerring eye for beauty, and she introduces me to to many lovely artists and things. I think we instinctively wish to soothe ourselves with such beauty when something like Tucson is in the news. We want to reassure ourselves that not all is ugly around us. Friendship is the antidote to hatred, though it is the gratitude practice that I most do when I witness hatred or it arises in me.

Today I spoke with another friend, and she described a reading she went to yesterday. Maybe many of us wanted to be with friends and and in a creative environment, rather than a destructive one. To affirm that both are a part of our lives, but we choose one over the other.

Old Age Day by Day January 9, 2011

Well, the news from Tuscon was stunning. It's as if people have no idea of the consequences of their actions. There is a lot of hate out there on the internet, and for certain types of people it emboldens them in such a horrible way. My husband and daughter were watching football and I was reading when the announcers broke in with the news. I was eighteen when I heard over the radio in my college dormitory bathroom Walter Cronkite's voice. I heard about RFK and MLK on the radio as well. Now we see images immediately. But the confusion and speculation is the same. People don't agree to disagree any more, they want to eliminate the opposition. We had better watch out or we will be our own worst enemy. In fact, I'm afraid we already are. We provide this hateful environment, and ready access to guns, and glamorization of vicious acts. If our only goal on TV and elsewhere is fame, then bad behavior will get that as easily as good.

Fear multiplies. A person fears the unknown, commits an act that ripples that fear, and calming down and attempting to find sane solutions to these acts becomes even more of a struggle. The rhetoric will heat up further. I hope people will meditate, pray, take political steps to reign in this violent, gun crazy culture we are inhabiting. Stop calling cowardly acts brave, and brave acts stupid. We ought to be able to have public discussion about important topics. We need to be civil. We need to respect each others right to be heard. But if speech in incitement to violence, then it's time to speak out against it and name it what it is. It is fear lashing out, anger taking over reason, and hate replacing love.

Old Age Day by Day January 8, 2010

I saw in the New York Times yesterday that the fundamentalist Muslims are targeting the Sufis, who are the majority population, in northern Pakistan. They bomb their mosques and gathering places. They don't like the dancing, the joy and emotion these esoteric branches of religion display. I'm crazy about Sufi music and admire their devotion and attempts to understand via non-linear and logical methods. But I think it is the joy that is the crime in Taliban eyes. How can a way of thinking based on power and subjugation begin to understand an inner power that is available in equal measure to all?

If we look inside ourselves, we may find what others are looking forward outside themselves, in the bodies of very fallible and perhaps misguided human beings. If we learn to trust ourselves, isn't that the greatest threat to those who want us to trust them to lead us? I hope there is a way to stop this violence and the bloodshed of innocent people wanting only to live their lives and their beliefs in their own way. But history is not reassuring. Tibet is haunting me, and now, when I think of the Sufis, I pray that they do not lose their land and their security. Might makes wrong, so often, and gentle, peace loving people are not defended. I hope this doesn't happen in Pakistan, but I have no idea for a solution. The state is clearly not strong enough to protect its people.

Old Age Day by Day January 7, 2010

Another beautiful, crisp, cold day. My teeth were chattering yesterday, as I let myself get too cold without enough outerwear. Even the dogs don't want to stay outside - the whisk out and right back in. Usually, they run around while I'm writing in my studio out back, but lately they huddle in the studio with me - except - they like to push the door open, and that is what caused the teeth spanish dance. Today, one was locked in with me and the other outside on the path, looking confused. They do not understand humans have no fur coats, well, at least this one doesn't.

In fact, when my mother died, my Dad offered me her white mink coat (knee length), a mink stole, and a raincoat lined with mink. I asked him to store them for me, and as he died ten months later, I had to figure out what to do with them. Keeping them and wearing them was not an option - they gave me the creeps. Eventually, I sent one to a beloved aunt in the midwest, one to her daughter, my favorite cousin, and gave the glamorous white mink to a friend of my parents who had helped them a lot. All three were thrilled - no scruples in that generation, and for two of them the fierce cold of their state made them seem downright practical. Now my aunt is dead, so maybe my cousin has her mother's coat as well, though knowing her, she's given both to her daughters, and the friend has died and undoubtedly the while mink has passed on to one of her two daughters or been sold. If it were me, I'd have buried them with a funeral.

So, anyway, Patagonia does an excellent job of keeping me warm, without killing any tiny creatures, and if I can just keep the door closed, and fight off the instincts of the dogs to have an escape route, I probably won't have my teeth doubling as castanets.

Old Age Day by Day January 6, 2010

I had to have a blood test this morning, and a urinalysis, and I had trouble peeing enough, as I'd forgotten to drink water this morning. So I was drinking water and waiting while a mom and little boy came in for his bloodwork. He was around a year, and determined not to cooperate. It took a great deal of struggling by two nurses with the mom also gripping, to finally overcome his kicking, squirming and crying. We were all about in tears, and I said at one point, I wished I could take the test for him. But the blood got drawn, and everyone laughed with relief, and as the mom was leaving with the boy strapped in his stroller, I said, "I hope he has amnesia" and she laughed and replied, "I hope I do, too". The resilience of people and their ability to put the bad moment behind them amazes me.

We can know what is necessary and go to it, then put it in perspective later, maybe making a little story, exaggerating, connecting with others through our understanding that this is what life brings, surprises, coping, support of strangers. So right now, I feel proud of being human, of what we're capable of and what we do, every day, unseen, in the ordinary course of our lives.

Old Age Day by Day January 5, 2010

I'm reading a gripping book by Rebecca Stott, a mystery, about a researcher at Cambridge who is writing a book about Newton and his connections to alchemy. I love this kind of read, where I learn about something historical, but painlessly. Actually, I'm pretty good at reading history anyway, and just finished a book about the killing of Crazy Horse. I've read other books on this subject, but this one looks at the situation surrounding Crazy Horse, and gives us a sense of tragedy and misunderstanding that has characterized white/Indian relations to this day. Maybe now the anger is directed at Indian casinos, whereas in the past it was how lazy Indians were, but the lack of accurate information and reporting is pretty much the same. Either we are noble savages or bums. Most of us are mixed blood, and struggle with the traditional Indian view that pure bloods and mixed bloods are different. We don't belong - or we do - and either way is a troubled path. Crazy Horse was perhaps mixed blood himself, no one knows for sure, but he was light skinned and reddish haired. Like African Americans, it was easier to label them one thing, not the complicated heritage that was the truth.

Many an Indian was killed because whites couldn't tell the difference between the peaceful Cherokee and the Comanche. And legions were forced to renounce their language, culture and religion. Tibet today is something Americans ought to understand, if they knew their own history in this country.

Anyway, knowledge maybe is not power, but despite complicating our ways of seeing, it leads to respectful caution when approaching others. We all have a long line of ancestors behind us, and histories that defy platitudes and snap judgments.

Old Age Day by Day January 4, 2010

In the realm of noticing little things (that are not little, but nevertheless easy to dismiss), I looked through my Christmas cards last night, taking out the photos to keep, and the letters, and realized I had several beautiful art works among the cards. There is a lovely photo of a Buddha, no doubt taken by my friend, a copy of a watercolor by another friend, an Indian painting/postcard, and a reproduction of a woodcut by another friend's grandmother. So I've set them aside, and will find frames for them this morning. Saved treasures that did not register with me during the hurly burly of the holidays. What a treat!

Yesterday we got the decorations packed and put away, lugged the heaviest tree we've ever had down to the street, exhausted ourselves going to the basement with plastic bins filled with what felt like bricks, and then swept and vacuumed and dusted (well, we didn't dust, that would have been contrary to our natures) and flopped down and called it good. We had made a winter wonderland and we unmade it, like the Chinooks that used to sweep through Colorado and whirl the snow away.

Today my husband went off to work, I'm for the grocery store and to buy a new pot for a plant that broke on the porch during a windstorm, and life returns to normal. Routine is good and bad, or rather neutral. If I sink into it, then something is lost. If I resist it, something is false. It is what it is.

Old Age Day by Day January 3, 2010

Hope everyone had as nice a holiday as we did. Family and friends, good food and relaxed outings. It was a special treat to have my friend here the week after Christmas, and we talked, walked, saw movies, took day trips and had a quiet, lovely new year's eve and day. Half my kids were traveling to see family and the other half were here, and yet, it felt as if we were all together sharing the events, even our relatives in Ireland. I am content. No regrets, no second guessing, just clean fun - which for me now means enjoying the moments as they come and not clinging when they go.

I made no resolutions. My practice is my resolution, and I work on that every day the same way. What is different each year now is the joyfulness I feel at being alive. I feel my blessings, I feel my dead ones gathered around me, I feel the energy of those who will live after me. I can see my husband feels it more, too. And some of my friends. It's shared awareness of the fleetingness of life, and the opportunities that still abound every single day. A chance to be more sensitive to someone, to see their circumstances and attempt to give them some ease, a moment when we can treat a stranger as a complete, complex person instead of an obstacle, the noticing of the changes in nature around us, an act of kindness and our gratitude for it.

So, today we take down the Christmas decorations, without regret, and carefully, mindful of our backs and knees and age. We put our babies to bed gently, until they awake again next year, or in a next life.