Old Age Day by Day July 31, 2012

Gee.  The last day of July.  This summer is getting away from me.  I'm going to a baseball game tonight with my husband and our friends.  Got to grab that summer glow while we can.  I've been thinking of my hike at the lake, a very strenuous hike, which I believed I wouldn't attempt until the last minute.  Without the help of my son, daughter's boyfriend and friend, three strong men, it wouldn't have been possible.  I know my limits pretty well.  I was able to do it solely because I could accept the help I needed.  A change.  A getting older change.  I prefer to be stalwart and stoic, but that is no longer an option some of the time.  Appreciating other people's generousity is a necessity to me now.

More needing, asking for and getting help is in my future, and I'm adjusting, slowly.  There are role reversals coming.  It's a part of life.  I'm lucky to be alive, and I know that.

Old Age Day by Day July 30, 2012

I have returned!  I am retreated and cabined and hopefully, with my head screwed on straight.  I had a beautiful retreat, which left me speechless and deeply calm.  I had the opposite experience immediately after, with chaos and lots of people and laughter and good food and swimming and hiking.  I love both, and the integration of the two worlds is my goal. 

My creative activity at the retreat was writing poems.  I wrote sixty three, in ten days of an hour a day.  I'm very pleased.  I'm going to type them up and send them to the other retreatants, as a kind of scrapbook of the retreat.  It felt wonderful to write poems, which is how I began writing, until I switched to prose.  In my old age, I'm loving poems again.

Here is one example:

Orchard Walk

Yesterday I wandered through the orchard
Looking at unripe fruit
miniture pears and apples
hard nuggets of their future
fleshy selves

I do like a crisp pear
but not rock hard
and I will not be here
when they ripen and fall
so I'm witnessing them on their way
to becoming
and the outcome can
only be imagined

Like my children
I watch changes
but maybe not fruition
for the younger ones
I may not see them marry
 have children
or fulfill their dreams

But I can easily imagine it

Old Age Day by Day July 10, 2012

It's my father's birthday.  He's been dead over a quarter of a century, but not to me.  I feel his love and nurturance still.  He was an amazing man who never accepted another person limiting his aim or ambition, and he accomplished a lot.  In his private life, he got hamstrung by his desire to control, protect and save his family, and he was disappointed in himself and us, but only because he couldn't bear to see us suffer.  His love of life was ferocious.  He had pleasure in so many things:  family, friends, work, golf, travel, investing, politics, jazz, bridge, swimming, tennis, gardening, barbequing.  A lot of people loved him, and some hated him, because he was implacable.  He could and would say the things that no one else would.  If there was an elephant in the room, he introduced it.  He was passionate about every minute of his day, and relentless in his quest to challenge himself and overcome fear.  He had the courage of a lion.  He had a great laugh, and loved to tell bad jokes.  He sometimes was tasteless and often surprisingly tasteful.  He was a patriarch of the old style.  Family first, above himself, except when providing for us hurt us and helped his career.  We were dragged along by his intensity.  It was like being in the eye of the tornado.

It's quiet now, without him, but he's in my head and heart, and I always know, absolutely know what HE would say or do.  I know his opinion.  I don't follow his lead anymore, and have made a very different life for myself, but I respect him and his efforts on our behalf.  And did I say he was sweet?  He could be so tender and sweet and gallant.  I always knew he adored me.  I rested in that knowledge and his love.

Old Age Day by Day July 9, 2012

I'm going to about five places today to pick up stuff for the retreat, and my mind is spinning a bit just keeping all the errands straight.  But if I do all this today, it leaves a calmer, more peaceful day tomorrow, when we are going to friends for dinner.  Then bright and early, I'll leave Wednesday morning.  I'm about to do a zig zag:  first a silent retreat with no leaving the property and lots of quiet movement, then up to our cabin to socialize with a bunch of people, cook up a storm, swim and hike and listen to music and keep the dogs quiet at night.  Only the mosquitoes are in common with both places.  I go from dry to wet, from bushes to 100 foot pines and cedars, from spare simple eating to extravagance and beer.  In the best of all worlds I'd have some transition time, but no, that is not the way it has worked out.  Luckily, I love both worlds and wouldn't consider one without the other.  So.  Onward and upward!

Old Age Day by Day July 8, 2012

I'm off to my meditation and dharma talk.   My sane moments in days that often go by too quickly with too little thought or reflection.  I get my head screwed on straight, for a little while, at least.  Although, since I'm about to go off on retreat, I hopefully will remain somewhat upright for the next couple of weeks.  If enough effort on my part is made.  I am wearing a new turquoise roses scarf and somehow I feel quite nurtured wearing it.  It has some kind of power that appeals - perhaps the crocheting or the triangle of the material or that turquoise blue.  Anam Thubten calls it the turquoise sky that Tibetans look for in the clouds, as a kind of heaven.  Native Americans love it as well, and see it as healing, even more so that Buddhists, who view lapis lazuli in that light.  So my neck is wrapped in healing, it's draped round my shoulders, and hanging down to my heart.  How can I go wrong?

Old Age Day by Day July 7, 2012

My friend and I went out to lunch in one of those cities that is suburbia plus greed personified.  We decided to see what the new Neiman Marcus looked like, and so we strolled through, me figuring security would kick us out any minute for not having fat enough bank accounts.  Many handbags and dresses were over $1,000.  Little children's dresses were $185.  But there was a kind of pleasure in seeing it all, firstly, because the displays were beautiful, with great lighting and ample space between items.  Secondly, the leather was beautiful, the fabrics were amazing, and the architecture of the whole store dazzling.  It was a bit like being in a museum of textiles and sculptures.  The leather was so soft you wanted to swaddle it in a baby blanket.  So, though we had a nice little hit of the other world, and I can see that if you had a ton of money and wanted the best, the best would definitely give you some pleasure, no envy came up for me.  It was like visiting Mars.  I wouldn't really want to live there.

Then we settled down and went to Chico's where I bought long shorts and my friend a blouse, both for under $50, and then we hunted through DVDs at Barnes and Noble and came up with some bargains.  We had a fun afternoon, and I now know more than ever that all this luxury items thing is too pricey and too fleeting a buzz to be enjoyed by me.  I'm old and immune.  Besides, seeing upscale young shoppers in six inch heels, short shorts, and flowy fabrics over two tees produced in me an urge to giggle and no admiration.  What if there was a fire and they had to run?  Me - I was in my trusty walking sandals, stretchy jeans and a cotton shirt - I could survive, thank you very much!

Old Age Day by Day July 6, 2012

I've gotten digital photos of some ancient photos of my childhood friend.  She sent me her album with the Brownie photos, and now I've had them copied and will send the album back to her.  I feel just looking at what she put in her album and left out is interesting, at least as far as her state of mind as a teenager.  I see a lonely girl, whom I thought was miss popularity, and also a girl who's best friend was forced to move.  Her next best friend was forced to marry and move soon after.  A lot of loss, and it shows up in her face.  I also see a very happy me, and I can see that I had some kind of resilience that kept me going, despite losing all my friends and boyfriend.  I was altered, but not crushed.  That is a matter of luck, and adaptability from having to move a few times before the big move across the country and into the urban world I'd never known.  So, now, I kind of see how staying behind was worse, with all the reminders and none of the distractions.  I have more compassion now, and as a teenager, I just saw my friend as lucky to get to stay. 

She, too, has become resilient, but learned it later in life, through becoming a widow, moving to the midwest and raising a family, having her husband leave her at 50.  She's come into her own, and has friends everywhere she goes.  She's proud to be alone, make her own choices, visit her kids and many grandkids, kick back with friends.  I'm proud of her.  And me.  We done good.