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Showing posts with label wisdom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wisdom. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 12, 2021

The Beauty of Aging (or: In Case You Haven’t Been Warned Yet)

 If you have paid attention at all to the older people in your life, you might already know some of what I'm about to tell you. I thought I had paid attention and yet, here I am, getting surprised almost every day by some new aspect of growing older. 

I want to point out that aging is a wonderful thing. Whenever you feel bad about having to add another candle to the yearly cake, just think of the alternative. Aging is wondrous and amazing. You won't always feel that way about it, but there you go. By the way, for reference, I myself am not yet 60 but no longer 50. Here goes (and this list is in no particular order):

Some of this might make you laugh so maybe go pee first...

Bunions. When I saw the misshapen side-knuckle on one of my big toes, I thought I had broken a bone that was healing back wrong. 

Toenails. They get weird before you notice the bunions. One day, you no longer have cute little toenails that are normal. Somehow, when you weren't paying attention, your nails grew darker and thicker. Before you know it, you can never go polish-free without attracting stares from young people who cringe when you are wearing sandals. And good luck clipping these monsters without wearing safety goggles and warning anyone in the area to be ready to duck for cover at any moment.

Dry Feet. Of all the horrifying things that happened to my body as I got older, I think skin dryness has been the most annoying. But dry feet are on a whole other level. The only way I can explain it to you without showing photos (and that will never happen) is to tell you about the things I now have to use on my feet often: glycerin mixed with lotion mixed with oil mixed with anything that I think will soften, moisturize and camouflage the sandpaper that makes up my soles. Young people, I actually own tools that my SILs and I call foot-graters. Yes. Cheese-grater-type things made just for grating the dead, dry skin of the feet. Stop and think about that for a moment while you're mad about being too young to be old enough to do whatever thing you think we adults do that so fun. 

Your health runs your schedule. Seriously. I once had my brother and SIL turn around halfway through a 4-hour road trip because I left my pillbox at home. Talk about "not leaving home without it". I set my clock to take certain medicines so it's not done on an empty stomach. I don't do things that require me to leave the house most Thursdays, Fridays, and, possibly Saturday mornings. Or I rearrange my medicine schedule so that I can leave the house on those days.

More things make you gassy. And bloated and constipated or... very much not constipated. I have become a connoisseur of fiber supplements. I'm sure Amazon and Google are tracking me and shaking their heads in confusion about my buying fluctuations of laxatives and, um, non-laxatives...

Dark spots on the face. I don't know if these are the infamous "age spots" that cosmetic brands are always trying to warn us about or not. I just know that one day, I spent a few minutes inspecting a weird infected pimple on the side of my face before I realized that I had never seen a pimple that was so dark and resistant to all the home remedies for pimples. This thing was like a spot that wanted to be a cute beauty mole but decided to be ugly instead. I now have several of these tiny little things on my face. 

Your hair gets weird. It's true. My hair seems to go through a change with each passing decade. It's been coarser and less coarse; frizzy-dull and smooth-shiny; auburn-tinted, cinnamon-tinted, and grey-streaked. It's gone from thick and healthy but untameable to thick and lovely (that lasted about 6 years) to thick and needs so much work that I no longer just have a regular hair wash day but a day for deep conditioning, one for moisturizing only, and one for rotating products so my hair doesn't get bored and have a real hissy fit.

Your hair migrates. True again. And this one is lovely. The first migrating hair incident happened for me at work. I was sitting near the SIL I worked with at the time and she noticed me swatting at something on my face every now and then. She was curious. Was I being bothered by a pesky fly or mosquito or something? I told her that I couldn't get rid of a piece of lint or something on my chin. She came over to take a look and help me out. She then went into a fit of laughter. The "piece of lint or something" was a hair. A chin hair. A quite long and grey, hair the texture of a hair not found on the head but somewhere further down the body. I had chin hair. Okay, just one chin hair. Of course, I yanked that one right out but it had strong and deep roots. That thing comes back in the same exact spot ever so often and I have to take a pain pill, apply a numbing agent, and have someone to coach my breathing while I yank it out. If only the hair on my head was so strong.

Your favorite perfume will no longer be your favorite. It's a dry skin and changing body chemistry thing, folks. 

And growing older isn't all about giving up on a lot of vanities. There's the stuff that happens that will make you wonder if the 7-year cell renewal of the human body doesn't include just becoming a totally different person altogether.

Sleeping patterns change. Over the past decade of my life, I have gone through cycles of needing less sleep at night to needing more sleep during the day. For long stretches, I will have insomnia, then I suddenly turn into Rip Van Winkle. I think it was around the age of 40 that I learned to love naps. For a while, I couldn't sit through a television commercial without going into a drug-like nod. (I remember laughing at my mother who once admitted going to sleep in church and waking herself up with a snore.) Depending on what mood my wonderfully and fearfully made body is in, I need to spray myself down with magnesium oil to get a good nights sleep or I have to run through 3 refills of the water reservoir on the Keurig to make it through to noon without going into a narcoleptic coma.

Calories become very important. When I was younger - birth to mid-30s - I could eat Paris and not gain even half a pound. At around 40, the bread and cookies and Moose's Tooth pizza and all the other yummy food I loved began to show. Not much. I just grew a little bit of a backside and actually needed a bra that came in sizes more defined than Tween-to-Teen. It was kind of awesome. Until I suddenly had to actually start paying attention to the clothes I wore because not just any old thing I snatched off a rack looked great. I had to worry about button "gaps" and whether or not pants gave me a "muffin" or not. (We won't even talk about when I got sick and gained - never lost - a lot of prednisone weight.) I'm now to the point where choosing between having a piece of bread with lunch or dinner is a serious decision. 

On the other hand, my best friend struggled with keeping her weight down for years. As she ages, I often have to ask if she's eaten anything more than her usual fruit or half-sandwich. She "forgets" to eat. Food is just not as important to her as in yesteryear. Half of our conversational repertoire 5 years ago was sharing what yummy recipes we were going to be experimenting with. These days, she celebrates my weight losses and I cheer her gains. Life is strange.

Your tastebuds grow up. As a kid, I hated the usual things that kids tend to hate: liver and onions; broccoli with no cheese or dip; or anything halfway healthy or green that wasn't barbequed, fried, or served on a pizza.  I think I was close to 35 when I started to like juices made from beets and carrots and kale. And I'm not talking the sugar-swamped concoctions from trendy brands but the hippie-pure stuff from the organic aisles in health food stores. I even got into wheatgrass shots for a while when I was seeing a guy who was too much into ugly shoes and scratchy-fiber clothing for our relationship to flourish.

 About 15 years ago, I actually requested that my sister fix me some liver and onions "the way Mama used to make". And, boy, I never tasted anything so good as that. Since then, I have come to love collard greens and all kinds of beans (pinto, navy, lentil) and stews. I can literally have a meal of nothing but a bowl of steamed mixed vegetables with a little bit of salt and pepper. I once got on such a long collard green kick that the people at the store would see me headed to the product section and start picking out the best bunches for me. I have even very recently started seasoning my food with cayenne and red pepper flakes. Look at me!  (I still only like chitlins half-a-closed-eye bite at a time but chitlins aren't healthy so...)

One of the best things about growing older is that you take time to get to know people better, including yourself.

You become more sensitive to noise. I've become that cranky woman who gets extremely annoyed by loud chatter, loud music, loud TVs or radios, and anything louder than the thoughts I'm trying to hear in my head while your car stereo is shaking windows and scaring small children. 

You don't need a lot of friends. And you learn what it means to truly be a friend. My mother had a mantra that every child in our extended family heard: Not everyone is your "friend". She would teach us that we might think we knew a lot of people when we really only knew of them. More than acquaintances and less than friends. 

I have known lots of people throughout my life. "Friends" I made at work or via other people. People who passed in and out of my life. Most of them were like lightning bugs, lighting up and delighting me but only briefly. I have had 4 got-your-back, thick-and-thin friends in my entire life - not including my siblings who are always Team Me. Two of my friends are no longer alive here on earth. The other two friends? I could call them from the moon saying I want to come home and they would try to find a way.

You care more about some things and less about others. 

You realize you are both smarter than you thought and less intelligent than you always believed. "Book learning" has never come easily for me. I always had to study harder and concentrate deeper to even try keeping up with my brothers and sister. But some things can be learned if you study and concentrate. Some things come by living and making mistakes and watching. Wisdom is a real thing. Turn on the television or just sit back and listen to people. You will find that there are a lot of really stupid people labeled as "intelligent" and a lot of wise people who watch.

You grow to understand that everything is a choice. Even not making a choice is a choice. Christians out there will understand what I mean by this without any further ado. For everyone, doing or not doing, deciding or not deciding - be hot or cold but be not lukewarm.

You will become very well-acquainted with yourself. Not the 'you' that shows up at work or for lunch with friends. Not the 'you' at family get-togethers. You will spend more time with the ypu-person who has made your life choices and mistakes and wrong turns. For me, it took getting older to be both harder and easier on myself about my past. I had to look at the past as "what's done is done" but not let that be an excuse for any current actions.

You will find beauty & joy in different places and situations. As a cute (no modesty here!) and perky 20-something, I thought I knew what "beautiful" was. I thought I knew what would make me happy for life. I actually thought I knew these things! Imagine this: you don't like baked chicken. You really hate it - and especially if it's on the bone - not even the best-seasoned and most delicious chicken. Then you are stranded on an island with no food. All you have is a source of fresh water to keep you alive. You survive for weeks on this island (we're just imagining here so don't go factoid on me). Then, one day you are rescued by someone on a boat and all they have is fresh water to drink and baked chicken. Chicken on the bone. You won't reach land for another few weeks. How delicious do you think that baked chicken is going to taste? Probably like the best thing that any person ever ate before or will again.

As I get older, I know I haven't been starved of life or happiness. But I have gone through things that are just a natural part of living. These days, I find such beauty and joy in things I never had to pay much attention to. It might sound trite or corny to you but so many things in life represent that island survivor's meal. I can taste all the seasonings and nuances of flavor. I am appreciative and deeply satisfied in many ways. And because of life and how it can happen, I have fewer material riches than I ever have.

You will appreciate kindness in people maybe more than ever before.

You will find people attractive for different reasons than perhaps you did before.

You will realize how "rich" you are in ways that have nothing to do with money. I personally sometimes walk around my 650 square foot apartment and am amazed at how blessed I am. I feel like the richest person who ever lived. Don't let me mess around and have a day when I'm not sick or forgetful or physically off-balanced or depressed. Boy! That is a day that rivals anything any billionaire or celebrity can know.

These last bits won't be appreciated by just anyone. Those of you who don't believe in God might want to skip this.

Death becomes less frightening. I've not been afraid to die since I came to know the Lord. However... I often half-jokingly quip that it's not dying but the getting dead part that I'm afraid of. As I get older and older, I become less afraid of the "getting dead" part. 

I pray more for people who don't believe, even though some would hate me for that. The older I get, the older my former pop-culture favorites get. Michael Jackson, Prince, and Lady Di. I find myself mourning and wondering about the fate of people I didn't "follow" as a fan. Just in the recent past, there have been the reported deaths of members of former boy bands, video vixens, songwriters, actors and actresses, and sports "stars".

Of course, I pray that everyone will come to know the Lord before they die but we hear get so much news coverage of some deaths. And I wonder if they had a change of heart or if they cried out for forgiveness. I only wonder because I know that I could have been someone dying without salvation. 

You are bolder about sharing your "wisdom". I am not as shy about sharing what I have learned. If I think it's going to help someone else cope better with their depression and anxiety or whatever physical illness they have, I will try to speak up. I am not as shy about speaking to people about considering their eternal soul. 

I am getting older. Any of us could be taking our last breath right at this moment, but getting older makes death more "in-reach" in my thoughts. Day by day, I have less time to speak up about things so I'm taking my shot.

There is a reason my blog name is "Free".

Peace

--Free

Monday, April 14, 2014

Growing Up vs Growing Old

With another birthday coming up on me, it's time to take inventory. I have to clean out some old habits and actions to make room for the new and improved ones; I have relationships and friendships I need to check on - and some I need to "check off"; and, of course, I need to consider whether I am fully appreciating and using this life and the abilities God has given me.

Each year, I like to remind myself that I am growing up and not just growing old.

Growing up means maturing - in spirit, wisdom, thought, and actions.  Growing up takes a willingness to learn from mistakes and make appropriate changes. Lots of people live long enough to grow old.

As I get ready to take this "inventory" of my life, I'm looking at some of my habits and pleasures. I need to figure out which things are still a source of happiness for me and which one I keep only to "maintain." Let me explain what I mean by that:

While watching the documentary ("Unguarded") about Chris Herren, the former basketball player, I noticed something he said about his drug use. He'd once enjoyed using drugs and alcohol but, when the addiction took hold of his life, he only used to keep from being "dope sick."

"Dope sick." Wow.

How many of us are using things other than drugs to find our escape and pleasure? How much of those things are we letting take hold of us to the point where we keep up with them to fight off dope sickness?

Part of my self inventory is to figure out which pleasures in my life that I need to put the brakes on before I lose control.

A few years ago, I wasn't as mature as I am now. I had grown older, of course, but I wasn't maturing as much as I needed to be. When I went through my previous abusive relationship, then got sick, I was forced to grow up in a lot of ways. That's when I realized that some struggles are really warnings. God's blessings didn't get my attention as much as those struggles.

This year, I hope to look back on the past with more clarity. I'm praying for God to cleanse my heart of all the nonsense I have let in.

Peace
--Free

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Devil Has Been Busy

But so has God.

I finally got over to Vocational Rehab to see about getting back into some kind of career post-Sarc. Of course, the sarc heard that I had plans so it came out to visit. On my birthday. Just like the gift it is...

That's be irritating news. The better news is that I have been working on my courses over at CodeAcademy. I'm pretty pleased with myself since I have managed to get through almost all the HTML training. I'm well on my way to learning some actual programming language because Java is  up next. (By the way -for anyone who did get over to one of the free training sites, I can tell you that viewing some of the Udemy vids is a good way to make some stuff stick.)

That's the about-me news. The rest of the news would be all about idiots doing stupid things to get their 15 minutes of fame. I won't even go there. What I do want to do is give you something to smile about.

When I was feeling all achy and creaky and morose the other day, I got an email from a friend. She ended the email with the saying I've always loved:


That's the real truth there (in my life anyway). And it's not a bad thing. Cheered me up, so I thought I'd post this link to a site of great Yiddish sayings. Nothing like a little common sense served up with a smile...


I like: "In a beautiful apple sometimes you find a worm"

Just like life.

Peace
--Free

P.S.: Hello to all my super-special group of G+ friends (you know who you are). I will be back there soon to hassle you! lol

Thursday, January 17, 2013

(Re-post) Children & Wisdom


(I was going through some old emails the other day and the one that prompted this post popped out at me. I've been too busy the last couple of days to play, so here's a copy/paste re-post. Enjoy)

I got this in an email & it gave me goosebumps. Maybe because I have been struggling lately over what love really is and what loving someone really means. I have been looking in the Bible for insight on the love between spouses and keep landing on Corinthians 13:4 - Love is always patient; love is always kind; love is never envious or arrogant with pride. Nor is she conceited.

When I saw the answers these children gave, I realized they understand love a lot better than I do. The question "What is love?" was posed to children aged 4 to 8 by a group of professionals (according the the email) and these are the answers given:

  • 'When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.' Rebecca- age 8
  • 'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.'Billy - age 4 ('Safe in their mouth.' What a beautiful thought!)
  • 'Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.' Karl - age 5
  • 'Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.'Chrissie - age 6
  • 'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.' Terri - age 4
  • 'Love is when my mummy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.' Danny - age 7
  • 'Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more... My Mummy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss' Emily - age 8
  • 'Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.' Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)
  • 'If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,' Nikka - age 6
  • 'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.' Noelle - age 7
  • 'Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.'Tommy - age 6
  • 'During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.' Cindy - age 8
  • 'My mummy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.' Clare - age 6 (ROFL!!!)
  • 'Love is when Mummy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.' Elaine-age 5
  • 'Love is when Mummy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.' Chris - age 7
  • 'Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day' Mary Ann - age 4
  • 'I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.' Lauren - age 4
  • 'When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.' (what an image) Karen - age 7
  • 'Love is when Mummy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross.' Mark - age 6
  • 'You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget..'Jessica - age 8
And the final one --

Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbour, the little boy said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry'

(I felt like crying myself when I read that last one. I once heard a minister preach about being a friend by sitting with someone during their suffering and grief. He illustrated his point with Job 2:13 Then they sat down on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights with no one speaking a word to him, for they saw that his pain was very great. The minister said that sometimes when people go through suffering, the best thing to do is to say nothing but to "sit where they sit," in other words, to sit with them in their grief. That little kid could teach everybody something.)
Peace
--Free


P.S.: This is a good time to be busy. Outside looks like this:


HUGE flakes still coming down. No signs of stopping. Ugh, winter.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Oh, Whoa, Woe

My mother taught me many things and one of them was to never boast about what you won't do. I didn't quite get it back when she was teaching me this, but I do now.

I'm against the wall here. Looks like I have to make some super-tough financial decisions and one that is bugging the piss out of me is bankruptcy.

How the hell did I get myself to this place?

Right now, I am mentally kicking the shit out of my can't-be-ex-soon-enough. Not that this is all his fault, but... I should learn to listen more to my head than to my freaking heart.

All morning, this has been pattering on my mind like rain hitting a tin roof. I did laundry thinking about this, vacuumed, paced the porch, talked to two of the BFFs and Kita Kat - all with this hovering on the edge of every thought. I am pretty sure that this is how people go crazy a little tiny bit at a time.

What I hate most about the idea of bankruptcy is that, to me, it seems a whole lot like stealing. I mean, I did get goods or services for a price that I now cannot finish paying. Bankruptcy vs Stealing. Difference? Not much except intent.

 Dilemma, dilemma, dilemma. By not filing, I am only sinking deeper and deeper into a pit that, short of winning a lottery or a lost-lost rich relative finding and taking pity on me, is only getting an inch deeper every moment. The bad thing is, even my wealthy relatives are scrimping these days. (Is there humor in that?) By filing, I am signing off on a lot of self-esteem and throwing the towel right the hell in wherever thrown towels go.

I have a headache now. Think I am going to mull this some more - see if any bright ideas pop into my head. Meantime, I'm going to make some calls for advice and do some G+ therapy looking at shit like this:


Okay. That helped a little. Not much, but Number 7 gave me ideas...

Peace
--Free