Week Forty-Four - Who runs the world? GIRLS!

I got to spend an evening with a roomful of beautiful ladies this week, about 225 of them; all ages, shapes, and sizes!  Our local Health System’s foundation, held a fundraiser for woman’s health in support of breast cancer awareness month. With a name like Diva’s and Darlings, I knew it was bound to be fun!  The theme, Mardi-Gras, and many of these lovely ladies donned bejeweled masks, dressy attire, and costumes.  It was a perfect girly night on the town, with live auction, silent auction, purse raffle, diamond and chocolate games of chance, and a spectacular spread of Creole style food.  Even the appetizers screamed New Orleans, tiny langostinos, and a huge shrimp bowl continuously filled by men in crisp, white chef coats.   The entertainment was an itsy, bitsy, little firebrand of a lady; a humorist, motivational speaker and breast cancer survivor, too. This little women, who exuded some powerful joy, was there to teach us something.  In a nutshell her message was:  the greatest expression of gratitude for life, is to love oneself.   With a funny, relatable, authentic, and self-deprecating humor she brought many of us to tears of hilarity as well as empathy.  Her narration all lead back to this single hope; that woman everywhere learn to accept and love themselves as they were created!   Her belief is that is in acknowledging and accepting our individual uniqueness, perceived flaws and all, therein, lies a woman’s true source of real power.   

I gave some thought afterwards to that philosophy.   I didn’t do the exercises she suggested, like getting naked and checking it all out in the mirror.  It was too chilly this week!  A good excuse.  But, I did ask myself, “Self, does your behavior now reflect a woman who loves herself?”  It surely didn’t for so many years, and the saddest part was I didn’t even realize it.  

I haven’t always felt powerful as a woman and in reality my love of my womanhood has just come around in the last few decades.  I viewed men as overpowering forces of nature that would always come out on top (no pun intended).  Professionally, as heads of households, and just because they were male, it seemed inevitable they would always exercise so much control over my life. Maybe they did because I didn’t feel confident enough to grab hold of my own choices and decisions and handed it  all over instead.   I just didn’t realize then, I could do much about it.   They seemed to hold the key to my security, survival.... and happiness.  Some of my female mentors and role models were successful females; doctors, lawyers, and CEO’s of companies, self-confident, attractive, intelligent, and financially secure.  But, they stayed in horrible relationships with men who were serial cheaters, lazy or abused them.  Why did they continue to forgive and stay with them?  They weren’t financially dependant on them?  They had the education, tenacity, and resumes to support themselves. They were good looking woman, attractive to other men.  Why would they choose a lifestyle of power in the Board Room, but powerlessness over their personal relationships and happiness;  knowing they deserved to be respected and treated well in their own homes?   Those were the examples I honed in on, in my younger years, and it just helpeded to reinforce what I thought. Men ruled the world, especially the private, personal ones of most women. 

Things started to change for me in my early 40’s when I began to uncover my worth and discovered it did not revolve around the opinions of others, most especially men.  I loved me.  Amazingly, I then attracted a man who deemed me worthy as well and loved me for my many  newly discovered assets, but also my insecurities, and flaws.  He accepted my sarcasm,  my humor, my little pillow tummy, my obsession with make-up and stilettos,  my fears, my workaholism and my propensity to dissect and intellectualize EVERYTHING!   A few years after his death, I began to attract the same type of men from my younger years.  What happened?   I slipped into the old mode and  decided I wasn’t worthy of healthy love that supported my desires, dreams, and boundaries, no matter what.  I placed more importance on becoming what others (men) wanted or needed than what I needed. I operated out of fear... what if I was wrong, really not good enough and what about this being alone?   A total betrayal of myself, I cast this lovable woman aside along with her boundaries and power.  

There was a popular commercial for a perfume in the 80’s. The theme song, touted, “ I’m a woman...I can bring home the bacon.  Fry it up in a pan.  And, never, ever let you forget you’re a man.  Why in the hell should that be considered an asset and a priority?   How about a perfume for remembering,  you are woman;  powerful and gentle, a contradiction, authentic and enough?   Not just any woman, but a phenomenal woman!   We give life, nurture, learn, think, achieve, accomplish, create. We are deserving and perfect, without breasts, 50 pounds heavier than we think we should be, without a man, or an impressive resume, or a big bank account.  Until we begin to believe that, we contribute to the shriveling of all women. We hand over bits of our power where it could be used to really change our world.        

Photo - Angela Owens Photography

As I looked around the room at all of these gorgeous females, I could feel this movement of energy, bursting at the seams, ready to be expressed just as soon as everyone, in unison, could say, "I love this woman that I am.  I am unique. I am  powerful.  Here me roar. Watch out world.  I am the change I want to see, and I am going to carve my own path of recognition, acceptance, and wisdom, for my daughters and yours." 

It all boils down to this little thing called, self-love.  A woman can do it all, achieve it all, have it all and still find she doesn’t love herself.... not at all.   Until we can, we remain truly powerless and what a waste of purpose and talent that is.  My goal,  (this week at least) is rediscover those traits that make me authentically me... lovable, unique, unorthodox, flaky, and unconventional... especially unconventional.  I am committed to gathering all those parts of me,  up in my arms, for a great big love-fest.  Oh, and, sigh... I’ll do as I was told.... get naked and recite the loving affirmations on that image too.  I’ll do it, until I start to believe it.  WooHoo to woman everywhere!  We are Feminine Forces of Nature!     

Week Forty-Three - Keep it simple....Back off Blondie!

I’ve had to work hard at my serenity these past few weeks.  Times are hard and uncertain for many people, and I am no exception.  While I have been able to maintain a smiling face, and project a relatively confident image to the outside world, stress has been nibbling away at my insides, trying to get at my heart, the place where my hopes, dreams and faith reside.  So many opinions in this political pressure cooker America is simmering in over the past months, pre-election.  I can’t stand it.  It makes my chest hurt, and sometimes I feel sick to my stomach at the constant back-stabbing, just plain mean spiritedness, and sarcasm spewed by the media, pundits, political party followers, and the candidates themselves.  The newspapers, television, internet, and corporate break rooms are filled with biased, obnoxious diatribe;  the design is to degrade and hurt.  It should be candid and enlightening, and most of all honorable. Much of it isn’t.  I’ve lived through a number of Presidential campaigns and this one just makes me feel like I want to take a long hot shower to get rid of the residual grime.  Maybe it is because of technology and there are so many methods of inundating us with information.  Personally, I think this should be such a simple matter for Americans.  Just drill it down.  What kind of America do you want to live in? Predominately government controlled; tucked under Big Brother (or Big Bird's) protective wing, financially dependant.  Or  more personal autonomy,  accountability, and freedom to choose and succeed (or fail)?    Neither side is really ideologically right or wrong.  One path will never fit all. Everyone is different and free to express those differences. Can we do it without the venom?  That is one of the reasons why our form of government and lifestyle used to be held up as a role model for so many other countries not blessed with those inalienable rights.   I know I am grossly over-simplifying, but essentially, isn’t that better than constantly convoluting the truth to persuade others to buy into personal agendas?  I think so. Simple always seems to work better for me in just about every aspect of my life.  If it gets complicated, my heart begins to send out warnings.  “Pay no attention to the man inside your head, he’s all about the smoke and mirrors.

Last week, someone acknowledged my ability to look beyond the lack of beauty, unpleasant surroundings, and imperfections, in myself and others by looking further beyond the horizon at something different...at God’s patience, perfection, and calmness.  I was so grateful for such a nice compliment, but I must admit it did evoke a little head time in discerning whether the compliment was a true depiction of how I conduct my life today.   Do I look beyond the challenges, fears, and stresses in my life?  I came to this conclusion; I work very hard at it.  It’s not enough for me to  just LOOK to God for those gifts.  The fruits of those gifts come about when I support it with a little action.  I can’t just stare off into the horizon, and expect God to hit me with the magic wand of serenity.  Bing.... you’re at peace.  No.  Sometimes, you have to just walk away,   turn it off, do something different.   Step one, is to recognize when something IS affecting you. 

I’ve put this into practice recently, last week during the Presidential Debate.  The Vice Presidential debate ignited my ire for days afterwards.  I felt irritated and depressed, and cranky.  My sleep was even disturbed.  Last Tuesday, I did something different.  I didn’t watch any of it!  Oh, the pull was there to get engaged in the chaos, and at first I had the television on mute, but the body language was just as bad as hearing those verbal fisticuffs.  So I turned it off.  Shut it all down and plugged into a positive podcast that immediately soothed my jangled nerves.   

Saturday, my five year old grand-daughter came to help make apple dumplings.  We had picked fresh apples the weekend before and I was in the mood for some comfort food... a Fall treat. This was not her first time for this particular recipe.  She had made them before with her great grandma.  As I was rolling out the dough and spreading cream cheese (because she decided I was better at this function), she laid claim to the job of placing the apple in the center and “smooshing” the dough around the apple.  Completing my part of the task first, I reached in to help with hers.  Indignantly she looked at me, and said, “Hey, back off Blondie!”  Stifling laughter, I did.  

Out of the mouths of little ones.  That’s it!  That’s the key!

That is what I have learned to do with those things that make my heart race, hurt my feelings, or just aren’t conducive to bringing out the best me.  Back off.  It's easier to put things in perspective at a distance. The result has been the ability to look at things with more patience, feeling calmer, and even seeing things from a bigger picture view, as God sees them.  I pray I can continue to keep it as simple as my little granddaughter.  When something begins to affect me negatively,  it just might be time to "back off Blondie." 

WooHoo! 

Week Forty-Two - Aging Gratefully.... WooHoo!

Last weekend was my birthday.  I’m thrilled to see every birthday arrive these days.   I’m not always crazy about some of the changes carved onto my face, and settling in my joints, but I do try to keep a positive outlook about all that too.  For now.  I am clinging to the precipice of middle age, taking better care of mind and body than I did even a decade ago, trying to prevent the plunge into old age. I know I’ll get there sooner if I allow my ego to tell me what I am not and cannot do... at my age!  It’s a gentler practice to look for the silver linings. 

Making up my mind to think positive about this aging gig has revealed some real gems!   When I think about a body that doesn’t move quite as quickly, I’m convinced that’s simply so I have more time to relax in the big chair in my den, contemplate the course of my life in front of a mesmerizing fire which lulls me into mindful and constructive reflection!    It’s important (at my age now), to correct any of those defects of character before I pass on to the other side, where some believe I might be judged. I personally don’t buy into this God of spiteful, human traits.   Rather I believe in karma, and lessons, and I  think I’ll get to come back to re-experience and correct anything I was marginal at in this lifetime.  Like self-confidence, accepting love, and self-forgiveness. 

My flexibility isn’t what it used to be either, but, I’m okay with that too.  I get more attention in Yoga class.  The instructor gently pushes my leg higher up and tells me to breathe into those muscles and joints.  That’s good advice for everyday living.  Just breathe.... into the occasional unbending rigidity of life, nourishing the cells into forgiveness, acceptance and then peace. 

And, then there's the issue of my body changing shape. No matter how hard I work at eliminating those little pockets of fat that have accumulated in spots I never had fat before, they hang on like a needy brood, clinging to my hips and tummy. That’s okay too. There are few things more nurturing than my sweet little pillow body of comfort and security that  provide my grandchildren and precious ones a place to settle into softness and the comfort of my unconditional loving arms. 

I look back at images of me at different decades of my life; age twenty, perfect flawless skin, tight body, lustrous hair;  barely recognizable. Who is that?  Is that me?  Lovely,   artistic almost... in a Madame Tussad’s wax museum sort of way, personality left to the eye of the beholder.    So much is missing.  Self-confidence. Authenticity.  Self-love.  Slow forward, witnessing the transition from joyful child, woman-child, mother of a child, motherless child, single woman, loved woman, heartbroken woman, wise woman metastasizing into this larger, wiser soul inside a diminishing physical form.  The wiser soul apparent in words, carriage, and behavior and much more beautiful,  adorned in abundant life experiences. And, all of this also reflected in the brilliance and excitement of unchanging eyes, deep and meaningful; dancing and joyous. 

The best thing about my birthday last week was the acknowledgement that my life has meant something to others.  Voice mails, emails, text messages,  all the modern conveniences, electronically planting hugs and kisses and awesome sentiments.  Cards, tokens, special gifts to touch and hold close to my heart when tangible support is needed to remind me, I was, and am loved. 

Weeks before my daughter asked me what I wanted for my birthday.  “ Do you have a list?” she asked.  I struggled with that. A Zumba tape, a purse, a Bullet handmixer, cute boots, books...It was hard.   I’ve had so much.  I’ve lived so much.  I’ve savored more than my share.   It's all come full circle, back to the realization,  there is no gift greater than being acknowledged,  in knowing you are in another's thoughts, you're valued;  you have made a difference to someone.  You are loved, just as you are; pillow tummy, laugh lines, occassional sarcasm, creaking joints.  Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.  

And because of (and in spite of) all those gifts, when I looked in the mirror this week, I saw a soul overflowing with blessings..... When I dared look even closer, past the worry line deeply gouged into my forehead, what I saw captured in the bright, greenish/blue eyes staring back at me, was amazement and gratitude at those reflections from others, in joint celebration of my life. 

Now, these legs of mine.... oh, my goodness... unchanged.... still "killer" after all these years!   WooHoo. 

Week Forty-One Birthday Bucket List....

A recent blog post on Positively Positive invited me to come up with a birthday bucket list.  First, Happy Birthday to Me!  I’m immensely grateful when my birthdays arrive.  I don’t have a problem with getting older.  I feel blessed to increase the number of my years on this earth.  I’ve already lived to be 8 years older than my mom was when she died, and 20 years longer than my husband!    The temptation is there sometimes to wallow in a bit of survivor’s guilt, pine away about all they could have/would have enjoyed had they lived.... Like grand babies, retirement, and years of tender love and attention, but I don’t have time in my days to act martyr like or feel guilty about much of anything anymore.  Guilt free...one of the blessings of learning and practicing being kind is more important than being right, doing the next right thing is lots easier than manipulating truth, and applying the Golden Rule as much as possible.  I find that I don’t have anything to feel guilty about!  Besides, they both were fine examples of living their bucket lists, fully.

 It’s always a good thing for me to look back and reflect on the changes that can happen in just one year. I'm always amazed.  I’ve done that again this year, and as wide open as I am these days about so much of my life, this year, some of those changes feel real personal and private, and I intend to hold them close to my heart, at least for awhile. Initially, upon investigation, it didn't appear there were many, but further reflection reinforced the truth  The one thing I did recognize is that most of these movements forward (and it’s all been in that direction) this past year or so, were incremental, cumulative, rather than big gang-buster, fireworks stuff; the kind of events I measured a banner year by.   Like traveling to foreign lands, climbing mountains, jumping out of planes, hopping on Prince Charming’s white horse, or achieving a little fame.   I used to measure my progress and the quality of excitement in my life by all of that BIG stuff.  Or BIG dramas and changes,  like the year I was downsized from a 17 year career, saw my daughter graduate from College AND get married within months,  and lost my husband.  My nest was not only empty that year, my tree was stripped bare and the nest got drop-kicked to the ground by squirrels.  Maybe when you have lived a life of major flux, which appears to be the majority of my story, it’s hard to recognize you’re still evolving unless you're in state of constant euphoria or chaos.   

I guess, that in itself is a change for me!  My measuring stick is a pocket ruler now rather than a yardstick.  I began to learn about accepting the baby steps as progress too in my attempts to drop the 20 pounds I have been trying to shake for the past 6-7 years.  I finally joined Weight Watchers, and unlike times in the past when I wanted to drop a few pounds and it rapidly melted off, the scales now, while reflecting a decline almost every single week, has drifted down in the teensiest of movement - 1/2 pound here, 1/4 of a pound there. Nonetheless, it's predominately been on the decline, ounce by ounce.  I am getting smaller.  Incrementally, over a course of time, it adds up to some big accomplishment. 

So, this year, rather than paste up a dream board that looks like a season from the Great Race, or design a bucket list from the perspective of a starry eyed 20 year old with limited life experience, I’ve kept it simpler.  These are some of things I would like to strive for in this next birth year. They're  just on the list... I'm not doomed to hell if I find myself with an unchecked goal this year. Ready.....slowly, and gently... 

• Reteach myself French so I can whisper beautiful sentiments to those I love, including myself.  
• Downsize.  My belongings, my lifestyle, my expectations, especially of others.
• Stir up those creative juices... tune up the sewing machine.  Have my friends teach me to knit, again...  Make a fun pillow for each one of my little girls to snuggle, giggle, and cry in!     Paint a piece of furniture a fun color. 
• Design my own recovery/support cards.  Who better to understand what others need to hear?
• Go on a spiritual retreat. Omega Institute?  Perhaps.
• Treat myself to a pedicure or facial more often. Forgo the cheese and crackers, and use the money saved for a massage.
• Write. Write. Write. Every day.  For myself or for publication.  Just do it... let it flow... with abandon.  Every day. 
• Practice Yoga... often. Ten minutues or an hour.  Again, just do it.   
• Nap more.  Indulge in delicious afternoon respites cuddling with a loved one... Or a body pillow. 
• Cook.  Have little mini parties to celebrate (anything and everything).  Spoil friends with yummy food.  
• Hand out a whole lot more hugs, kisses and love you’s. 
• Be responsible for the energy I bring into others' space.  Make it positive.

There’s more. But, it’s a secret. I’ll tell you on my next birthday! 

La vie est bon!  

WooHoo!

"There is nothing like returning to place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you, yourself have altered." - Nelson Mandela

Week Forty- Revisiting the photo albumn of my life......

I’ve been telling everyone I am so ready for a change. Maybe I think if I repeat it enough, the Universe will tire of hearing me say it, and blow me that kiss that sends me chasing after a new direction. It’s not that my days are particularly bad, or sad.  They are relatively serene:  peaceful and beautiful in their own way.  It’s the uneventful, redundant, and mind-numbing routine and sameness that is making me feel a little (or a lot) restless. I feel stuck. I am quite simply the kind of gal that thrives on diversity and fresh knowledge, adventures, challenges, and social interaction.    

I’ve figured this out about myself over the last few years.  I used to feel guilty because I haven’t been a “settled soul” who takes pleasure in staying put. I’ve occasionally felt judged, and perhaps perceived as a malcontent that didn’t have the emotional maturity to just settle in and accept a paycheck, a relationship,  mind-numbing mediocrity and simply survive, gratefully and gracefully.   I realize now, it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks, and it really doesn’t so much anymore.  Now, that's a great change!   I continue to hope for “more change” whatever that may be.... a bad day doesn't equal a bad life and wanting more does not make me ungrateful.   Not at all. 

I recognized this past week, it has been through being open and saying yes, to who I am, jobs, people, and opportunities, my life has been incredibly full and rich!   It’s always good to be reminded of the pay-off for being authentic and living life honestly.  I had that this week.  It came in the form of a zip-lock baggie of photographs I discovered.  

As I flipped through this visual timeline of stages in my wonderful, adventurous life, I was awed by my personal memoir (so far).  So many great people, opportunities, mentors, events, loves, and joys.  Was the average person blessed with so much?  I think not.  I felt a sense of peace in knowing, this will all return again.  Change will come and new pictures will be recorded to be treasured too. 

In between the years of those photographs there were rest breaks too, just like now.  We just forget our lives are like the seasons, we have those Spring times where everything is fresh and new, and Summers of great exploration and adventures.  Autumns of awe and wonder as the colors of our experiences unfold and bring us a second delight.  

And then, come the Winters, the times we learn to comfort ourselves, pull back, cuddle up:  nurturing and resting up for the next exciting cycle of our lives.  The pictures reminded me.  I won’t always be stuck in the Winter.  I’ve never been much of a Winter gal.    

WooHoo to looking at my life as a chronicle rather than short story.