Four Angels

On a sleepless night I was cruising (I prefer to cruise rather than surf) the Internet, and stumbled upon an article in which the author referred to the, "four monkeys on his back." He listed food, alcohol, drugs, and smoking. Those are weights of elephantine proportion, and I can't imagine the toll they must extract from his being each day.

My musings about living with addictions was just that, for I'm fortunate I do not have an addictive personality. Chocolate is delicious, wine enhances a wonderful meal and shopping is a necessary evil. However, I asked myself what do I crave, what do I wake up wanting?

As the light was coming into the new day, it dawned on me I have four angels on my shoulders, and I would be bereft if I had to live life without them. Movement, meditation, music and meaningful work propel me through my day and life.

Perhaps we should concentrate more on our angels and less on our demons. Placing our attention and focus on what we want to manifest will bring it center stage in our lives, and leave the monkeys waiting in the wings.

Okay, I'll fess up, a glass of fine wine, a piece of exquisite dark chocolate and a new pair of shoes can put a contented smile on my face every once in awhile too. Pair the wine and chocolate with some Pavarotti or Andrea Bocelli and I'm in my private heaven.

Find your angels and give them the lead role in your life. They will lift you up.

Their wings will help you fly.

What if?

I salute Oprah’s effort to change the world one life at a time. With her global recognition, financial resources and burning desire she truly has and will continue to effect change. Few of us are blessed with her charisma and cash, but what if we each pledged to begin to examine our daily decisions and actions with this questions: Will this make me a better me? Eckart Tolle poses such questions in Oprah's bookclub selection of A New Earth Awakening to Your Life's Purpose.

Self-improvement can appear to be a selfish endeavor. Too much me, me, me is a turnoff to most people. However, if enough people change just one person, the world will reflect this new tilt. We know it is impossible to change anyone other than yourself, so work on the reflection you see in the mirror.

Change is contagious. It can spread throughout a family, school, workplace and community like wildfire. There must be a catalyst and enough wind to fan the flames. Be that catalyst and fan it with your new on purpose actions. Be ready for the metamorphosis of your soul.

It is never too late to change. Go for it!

The Life of Flowers

The purchase of cut flowers is viewed by many as an unnecessary extravagance, but I believe they play an important role in reminding us to appreciate the fragile and often fleeting beauty of everyday life.

Most flowers grace us with their presence for only a matter of days, before they begin to wither and die; yet it takes months for the mother plant to produce its present to the world. The bud of a rose, the emergence of daffodils through melting snow, a field of California poppies are all reminders of the symphony of life. The great flower show, whether it is a single orchid or a field of tulips, is carefully orchestrated and builds to a moment of explosive color, fragrance and intricate design.

Artists, photographers and perfumeries have attempted for centuries to capture the magical power of flowers, but an element is missing from both the perfume and the painting when experienced alone. We human beings are blessed with multiple sensory capabilities, and it is with our eyes, nose and touch that we enjoy the full gift of flowers.

When words are not enough, we enlist the help of flowers to express the deep feelings of joy, grief and love. Often at the height of their beauty when given, we must enjoy and savor the floral beauty at that moment. Some things will simply not wait for us.

Flowers remind us of our now.



Gather ye Rosebuds While ye May

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

Old time is still a-flying,

And this same flower that smiles today,

To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven,

the sun,The higher he's a-getting,

The sooner will his race be run,

And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,

When youth and blood are warmer;

But being spent, the worse and worst

Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,

And while ye may, go marry;

For having lost just once your prime,

You may forever tarry.

Robert Herrick

Elevating Aging to the Status of Cool

When I was a teenager my two favorite age groups were babies and old people. I actually enjoyed visiting my bedridden grandmother in the nursing home, and I loved the bevy of babies my older siblings were producing.

Loving babies, is well, expected. Old people are another story. Yet the two groups are very similar. The first few years of life require a great deal of time and devotion from the people who brought new life into this world, or a caregiver of their choice. The final few years often require care giving from those given life to, or a caregiver of their choice. That's really a beautiful thing.



Passing the baton to the next generation often occurs with little or no ceremony, but perhaps there should be more fanfare about aging. A new day may be dawning. I believe the baby boomers are in the process of redefining the retirement years. These final decades will become the years of enlightenment. Enlightenment or retirement. Which one appeals to you?



Baby boomer enlightenees (whee, that's a mouthful, so let's go with BBEs from this point forward) will be at the forefront of changes in health care and the big business of dying. They will do it differently.



Contributing to society through meaningful work, whether it be paid or volunteer, will continue to play an important role in BBE's self fulfillment. I remember seeing Katherine Hepburn in a play in Chicago in the early 1980s. She was older, elegant and obviously loved being on stage. She was in her element with no plans to step out of the spotlight. Bravo! Living with purpose and passion will undoubtedly reduce the need for so many pills to make it through the day.



When my mother died I felt one of tragedies of her death was a lifetime of wisdom was silenced. It is my hope we will find more ways to merge instead of separate the generations. The wisdom and life lessons of those who walked life's paths before us will be passed on through shared experiences. I still remember some of the stories I heard from my grandmother's fellow nursing home residents. Every life has a story to tell.



The neighborhood schools would be a great place to begin with arts and crafts classes taught by BBEs and beyond who paint, knit, play an instrument or possess a talent they would like to share with neighborhood children. No test, no grade, no competition. Just for joy of sharing and learning and most of all, enriching the lives of those who give, as well as those who receive.



That's education in its purest form.

These Women are Not Invisible

A friend of mine who found herself single in her late fifties recounted her first experience at a single's outing. The divorce was final after months of lawyering up and she was exhausted, but ready to move on. Her X was happily ensconsed with his 30-something soon-to-be-bride and looking forward to fatherhood. My friend, in the middle of menopause with two teenagers and several states away from X, admitted one of her greatest pleasures was the knowledge that at 70 he would have a teenager again!

Entering the dating scene after twenty years of marriage required nerves of steel and a hard push from a visiting girlfriend. The hair was styled and the nails done. They shopped and giggled while trying on black, lots of black clothing. She knew she needed all the help she could muster to pull off svelte and sexy.

My friend is no shrinking violet. She has a big personality. She once commented that having two children turned her hourglass figure into a highball glass. Yes, she's funny, and don't all men want someone with a sense of humor?

No, not necessarily. A night that began with high expectations slid downhill into disaster before midnight. My friend strutted in, purchased a drink, sat down and sipped away while maintaining her best come hither smile. She sat and sat, dangled her still shapely legs from the bar stool and watched all the younger women dance, receive champagne from would-be suitors and for the first time in her life she was the wallflower. She said she might as well have been the lamp she was sitting by. She laughed, and told the story with gusto even though I'm sure it was not a fun evening. She felt invisible.

Now in her mid-sixties she ditched the single scene, took up golf and bought two dogs for companionship. There are two new grandbabies, a passion for basketball and Bridge. She dabbles in small decorating projects for friends and neighbors. Life is full.

And yes, she lunches with the Red Hat Ladies. She always looked lovely in red.

When Quitting May Be Best

No one wants to be labeled a quitter. It conjures up images of defeat, and worse yet, the dreaded label of loser. Those are some pretty ugly words.

Yet, there are times when "quitter" can be worn as a badge of courage. Quitting the three pack a day cigarette habit, bidding farewell to the intoxication of alcohol or the buzz of a drug induced high are examples of the quitter choosing to lose the self destructive habit. Those choices are to be commended.

Others are not so obvious. I've seen parents force children to participate in sports or other activities where the child exhibited no interest and very little talent. As the parent shouted encouragement to their child to kick the ball, the child was picking dandelions as the soccer ball whizzed past his planted feet. At half time the child insisted he did not want to play, and forced back on the field he did just that; he did not play. Not everyone is cut out to play contact sports. Finding your place in this big world is the challenge of our existence, and often a life-long pursuit.

Knowing when to give up and quit is a decision few of us concede to without doing battle within. The job you hate isn't worthy of your life, yet the security it provides allows you to sleep at night. It's the ying and yang of life with no easy answer.

The marriage that upholds none of the vows once spoken provides intertwined roots and history that isn't easily thrown away. It's the push and pull of risk and reward.

The question I ask myself when faced with such a decision is simply this: If I knew this was the last year I would spend on this earth would I still do this job? Who would I want to spend my last twelve months with? What would be worthy of my last great hurrah?

It takes the pain out of the decision, and gives a clear signal whether it is time to move on or stay.

Lessons Learned and Gifts Returned

Did you ever wonder whether driving your child to all those after school activities is really worthwhile? I have to admit there were times when I questioned the sanity of sitting in the car entertaining the baby while my older children took their weekly piano lessons.

Those Wednesday lessons took place from 5:00 to 6:30 PM every week. Dinner and homework were always rushed on that night, and we were all a bit frazzled by bedtime. Other evenings and weekends were filled with swimming practice, chorus practice, judo, soccer and horseback riding lessons. With four children there was rarely a free evening.

Piano night looked like the perfect evening right in the middle of the week for mom to take a break. Then one of the children would call me in to listen to a newly mastered song, or they would amaze me with the perfection of a surprise duet at a recital. Piano night remained a part of our lives for several years.

My son recently shared this song with me, thanked me for the musical gene and for those years of lessons. He said it is a gift he enjoys daily. He wrote the music and the lyrics, is playing the guitar and singing the song. Were those lessons worth it? Oh yeah, and then some.

Paying it forward can bring the most unexpected returns.

You've never heard this love song, so click and enjoy!
http://youtube.com/watch?v=hBbmTldbP8k

The Wellness Room

The photo caused me to pause as I was leafing through an upscale magazine in the waiting room (boy, is that room particularly well-named) of my plastic surgeon's office. The photograph oozed serenity and peacefulness from the glossy page. It was identified as a home sanctuary and wellness room; wellness rooms are a growing trend in the luxury home market, and this picture made me want one--now. Later, I found myself wondering if a wellness room (or space) is really a luxury, or is it a necessity in today's fast paced world?

Gone are the home gyms of the past decades with rows of seldom used equipment requiring hours of sweat and toil to achieve any noticeable results. Hardly a room you are anxious to come home to. Yesterday's physical fitness rooms might be more appropriately labeled as self-punishment spaces. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against a good workout, I along with many others, prefer to combine nature and fitness in the great outdoors.

I've owned my share of exercise equipment over the years and I've found I much prefer the equipment I was born with--legs for walking, dancing and the occasional jog; a body kept limber by yoga poses and stretches. I was never happy confined in a room pedaling hard and going nowhere. It was a lot like serving time, and when the allotted time was up I was the first one out the door. Ahh, fresh air! Ahh, sunlight.

As I studied this new wellness room, there was no intimidating apparatus in sight. There was a massage table beside an atrium filled with green plants. There were several yoga/exercise/meditation/nap mats rolled up in a cubby. Yes, a nap mat for those little refreshing catnaps or those power naps before an important event. Two body contouring lounge chairs were grouped amid a cluster of bamboo plants and other greenery. There was an adjoining steam shower, sauna, whirlpool tub and stacks of lush white towels, big thick bathrobes and bath accessories. There was soft lighting, relaxing music (no CNN allowed) and a mini fridge stocked with bottled water and nothing else. Cardio? You'll have to do that elsewhere. This room is for decompression, relaxation, self-tending, physical, emotional and spiritual restoration.

And napping. Didn't we learn to do that in kindergarten? Close your eyes, be quiet, remain still and rejoin the world refreshed and renewed in just twenty minutes.

Now that's a room I want to come home to.

Favorite Phases of Life

Last night I was watching a segment on Farrah Fawcett's ongoing battle with cancer. It captured my interest for two reasons; one, she's in my age bracket, and two, I still have stitches from my recent encounter with the surgeon's knife to remove cancerous cells. Oh okay, there's a third reason--I still like to check out her hair. I mean she did have the most famous head of hair the 70s ever saw. Her's was the coiffure to covet back in the day.

For me, the most captivating part of the interview was the question posed by her doctor in his effort to distract her from the discomfort of the procedure she was undergoing. "What was your favorite phase of your life?"

Farrah took only a few seconds and replied, "When I had my baby."

This is a woman who enjoyed enormous public adoration, was recognized throughout the world, graced zillions of magazines, and received the riches that come with beauty, fame and success. Yet her most triumphant phase of life was not the time spent in front of the cameras, it was the time spent with her child.

As women, will being a mother always trump the other moments and milestones of our lives? When faced with suming up our lives on a moment's notice, will our favorite part encircle the procreation and rearing of our offspring? When we give an accounting of our life will we speak our children's names and say this is the magnus opus of my life?

I took an unscientific poll of a few friends and found the answer to be yes, most of the time. There were a few who said they disliked the pregnancy phase and nurturing did not come naturally for them, especially when their children were very young and demanding. Most were unable to adequetely express the depth of love and purpose children brought to their existence.

It's heady stuff, this giving life.

Reinventing Yourself

My sister is retiring this year. She's 62. I think the word retire is all wrong for her, and many others who look and act like the 50 year olds of our parent's generation.

I've been thinking of another word that will better describe this phase of her life. She's leaving the 8 to 5 world behind and considering dipping her toe into the 24/7 world of real estate (again) or some other entrepreneurial venture. She may become a world adventurer, or an expert advocate for Medicare recipients. In other words, she's not accepting the gold watch and walking off into the sunset at Leisure World. She's gearing up for the next phase of Linda's life. She has choices. She is clay in her own hands.

It's reinvention time. She is a member of the brave new world order of Women On a Mission. After a mini retirement of a few weeks or months at most, another career is embarked upon, another passion is pursued and life purpose is realigned. I see it happening more and more, especially with older single women. They are not through with living just yet. They have contributions to make and a legacy to leave. And, finally, there is time for them to indulge in the postponed dreams and passions they kept tucked away in the far corners of their soul.

With our family history of grandmothers who lived into their nineties and a mother who passed just shy of 86, my sister can expect to live another 25 years. That's a long time to sit around and wait to die! There is still time to learn, earn, accomplish goals, master new skills and fulfill unforgotten dreams.

This is an exciting time in the life of a woman. Yes, there are many years behind her, and if she's lucky youth recalled brings a smile to her lips and a flutter to her heart, but she has no desire to go back and do it all over again. The light of the her future is much too bright.

Lead the way Linda. I'm right behind you.

The Ins and Outs of Love

Ahh, it's February and hearts are everywhere during this designated month of love. I must admit it is one of my favorite holidays. What could be more fun (or important) than showing those you love your heart? Chocolates, cards, balloons, candlelight dinners, moonlight sonatas and flowers, lots of them, are welcome during this all too short lovefest. One day is not enough! Let's give love a larger agenda in our lives.

Who doesn't want to be in love and loved? Isn't that the ultimate euphoric state of nirvana? Looking back on 60 years of love, and lack thereof, gives me a long perspective on this desired state of being. I believe it is the reason we are here on Earth.

Or maybe it's just that I'm stubbornly clinging to the old hippy saying of, "Make love, not war." That's the big picture and the great hope for the power of love. It still makes sense after all these years. Since political, religious and educational leaders of the world have been unable to achieve world peace, perhaps we should follow the Beatles' song directive of Give Love a Chance and do it ourselves. One person at a time.

Love is so much more than cuddling, kissing and sex. It's caring, compassion, and finding common ground. We are more alike than we are different, but differences make the world a more interesting place. We're sisters and brothers with a long history that links us to the same mothers and fathers. We're family. We share the same air, the same planet and the same desire to give and receive love. Countries and cultures are different, but people are basically the same. The need for food, shelter, work and love is worldwide.

Love comes in many forms. A new mother cuddling a newborn is a miraculous moment of pure love. Last summer I witnessed young lovers maneuvering the streets of Manhattan so in touch with each other they walked as one. Two people coming together to share the most intimate moments of life on a daily basis is a staggering committment and needs love as its bonding agent.

Perhaps that is why an old couple sitting on a park bench or sharing a meal is such a hopeful sight. Love may spend a lifetime with you.

It will never last is often uttered behind the backs of hot Hollywood couples and other lovers of the moment. Maybe love is not always meant to last. Love is fluid. It's always changing and redefining itself thoughout a life. The definition of love in our youth is quite different from the meaning of love after a long life.

Love makes life more bearable when dark days arrive, and come they will in the form of death, destruction, disappointment and failure. The word support is no substitute for love. It's too safe, clinical and distant. In those moments of need we want our loved ones to show us the love, their love. Once we have recovered, our tears dried and our souls replenished we must remember to return the favor. In order to exist love must be shared.

Love is defined as (noun) a condition in which the happiness of another is essential to one's own happiness. Love as a verb is defined as to care deeply about. So if you long for a deeper reservoir of love in your life care deeply about the people you encounter, the work you do, and the planet you inhabit. Love will soon be spilling over the top and infecting other with your oversupply.

Go on, give it away.

The Art of the Decision

Life is a series of decisions. When one is chosen others are abandoned. That one ball you elect to catch allows all the others to scatter helter skelter around you. What If is a guessing game and a projection into the past of where those paths might have led.

Although playing "What If" can be entertaining and worth a few laughs, or shudders, we'll never know what might have been. Each decisions progresses us along the path of our life. Some are so insignificant they seem hardly to matter. But chosing one sidewalk cafe over another has the ability to change your life forever. Should you go to the party or stay home? It's no big deal, but then again part of what makes life so unpredictable is each day we are stepping out into the unknown. Anything can happen. For the risk takers of the world this is exciting stuff, but for others the constant change and venture into the unknown can be crippling.

During mid-life one of my friends became terrified of all transportation. Driving a car brought on a panic attack, bicycling gave her vertigo and forget about flying, it was completely out of the question. She did enjoy walking and walked everywhere. Fortunately, she worked at the neighborhood school and she throroughly enjoyed the daily trek to and from work. She consulted with professionals and the general consenus was she needed to slow down the pace of her life. Children were leaving for college, parents were dying and too many friends were divorcing. Her tennis group was disbanding and her role in the PTA was completed. She could not handle the continuous changes coming at her in fast forward mode. She put her life on pause. After a few years the fear vanished as mysteriously as it appeared. She was literally ready to slide back into the driver's seat of her life.

Sometimes it would be easier to turn the wheel over to someone else. A body gets tired and the soul grows weary. The temptation to sit this one out is understandable. Most of us never reach the point of jumping off the carousel, we make adjustments and carry on. With a little trial and error we adapt and learn ways to manage the daily spin. Experience teaches us what works for us and what is an uncomfortable fit.

Deciding what to let go is as important as choosing what to keep.