Croning My Way Through Life
I promise you that the same stuff galaxies are made of, you are. The same energy that swings planets around stars makes electrons dance in your heart. It is in you, outside you, you are it. It is beautiful. Trust in this. And you your life will be grand.
— Kamal Ravikant
There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and will be lost.
―
Do any of you suffer from morning-energy-itis?
That’s usually when people have the most energy — mentally and physically. Especially if you have a lull in your time/space continuum where you can do nothing but think and daydream (breaks, driving to work, waiting for the dog to do her business).
I have all this mental energy in the morning; all these great ideas of what I want to do (a) when I get home; (b) over the weekend; (c) in the short-term. Stories I want to write, jewelry I want to make, landscaping I want to get done, places I want to visit.
Yet by the time I do the drive home all I want to do is crash on the (a) sofa; (b) front deck; (c) in front of the TV.
All that great planning and fun ideas swirl down the proverbial toilet as I run out of energy, money, and drive.
Now, I’m usually still busy doing things after work or on the weekends. My friend complains I’m never home on weekends because I’m off with my kids/grandkids at soccer games or camping or anything they let me join.
While that’s true, I can’t help but feel guilty about all those other things I could be doing when I do have free time. Things I could be doing but are not doing.
Maybe that’s just the Sagittarian in me.
Us Sag’s often start out big and fizzle out before the project is through. I think we get bored at the end of the project, looking for the excitement and jolt of a new beginning, and have a hard time completing what we started.
They say I’ll have more time when I retire. My list of “wanna-do’s” is already so big I can’t imagine I’ll be able to do half of them — especially if I’m sleeping in every day.
Seeing the beads sitting in the sewing box waiting for clothes to be decorated and jewelry to be made, and the outlines of really cool stories waiting to be written, and wardrobes waiting to be sorted and recycled, and the books I’ve yet to read, I have this eerie feeling I’ll only get a fraction of my wants translated into dones.
How about you?
Do you have more plans than you know what to do with? Do you get them done? Does it bother you that you can’t possibly do everything you daydream of?
Or do you just blow it all off and start all over again with new projects?
You would think these dark, long months of cold and shadows would encourage those of us who can’t sit still a chance to not sit still for a shorter period of time.
Fat chance.
Being a mover and talker and creator is a lot different in your 60s than in your 30s.
When you’re in your 20s or 30s or 40s, being active is foremost in your plans for success, money, kids, or whatever your life choice is. You have more energy, ideas, and whereforeall to get it done. A higher chance that your peers will listen and understand you, your ideas snowballing to the benefit of both employer and circle of friends.
By the time you’re in your late 50s/early 60s, those body and mind parts that worked so fast start squeaking just a little. The mind slows down just a little. Your coordination teeters just a little. To you, these changes are barely perceptible. So you can’t remember where you left your phone. So you drive past your exit on the highway. So you forget an ingredient in your dinner surprise. These things are no big deal to us, for we are too busy thinking about the next thing and the next thing.
Younger sprites think of the next thing and the next thing, too, but they just do it better. They have a better grasp on things like technology, job security, and time management, and somehow they seem to get everything done in time, in a fairly organized and sensible manner.
Not me.
Since my biological clock turned upside down the past few years, I’ve wanted to stay up longer and sleep in longer. Lately my Muse has been pulling me in a hundred different directions, either ignoring or ignorant that my mind, as creative as it is, doesn’t move as fast as it used to. I need to have a bit of organization in my crookedy life.
Getting the computer out after dinner and doing some “creative” work has become my version of organization. Yet circumstances are such that, for the next few months, I will have company every evening, and the things on the telly or the music in the background won’t be as much my choice as my kids.
I am noticing a slight change in the atmosphere lately, though, especially since they are starting to look for houses. The grandkids are not as dependent on me as they were when they first came to live with us.
Which is how it’s supposed to be.
They are networking as a family more and more now that they see change on the horizon.
Which is like it should be.
You would think there would be a shift in my atmosphere lately, too. But I’m afraid all I’m going to want to be contemplating is how to be a vegetable the evenings my husband is working (which is 5 nights a week).
Oh, I know, everyone says I will have to make myself go out and do something, make myself write and edit and find artists for the Gallery. I will have oh-so-much-more time to clean and putz around the house, reorganize, redecorate, rethink the old habits of Claudia.
And I will.
I just need to tell my body that.
The one good thing about this lackadaisical attitude is that I DO jot down creative ideas when the mood strikes. I have a lot of things on my plate — a lot of “maybes” and “heys!” and “ooohhh…that would be soooo cool!”s on my platter of plenty. And I know that once my housing situation shifts, once the sun lasts longer, so will I. We all will have gained a better understanding of each others lives and hopes and dreams, and encourage each other to get our individual Mojos going again.
Eating and writing and sleeping on the sofa by myself again will be so nice.
A very good friend of mine (who happens to be an intuitive, too), once told me that there are signs from the Universe everywhere. We just have to look for them, and know when they’re meant for us.
Now, most of you know my pretzel logic view of the world — that somewhere between Jesus and Ra and Gandhi there is an answer for everything.
Chocolate is the answer to everything, too. But I digress.
Humans are eternally torn between what was, what is, what you can prove. Without proof, gravity would just be a guess. As would the formula for Coca Cola. So I get that. Other humans lay any and every thing that has happened on God’s feet. Little did you know that He picks the winning team at baseball games, the fastest time at marathons, and winners of spelling bees. He has very busy feet.
Today is not a discussion of theology, but more a discussion of philosophy. How to deal with that trait of hide-and-seek. Faith and choices and outright miscues. Whether you believe in the predictability or unpredictability of the Universe, there is a chance to connect with a higher power that helps nudge you along the way.
After years of believing, then not believing, then maybe-but-maybe-not believing, I’ve gotten tired living in the Maybe World. It’s straining, it’s taxing, and, honestly it’s quite boring. So I have decided that believing is an art of choice — nothing more.
Now that is no small bag of potatoes. We all choose what we believe in. Even if we haven’t the benefit of Catholic grade school or Sunday School.
But what exactly are “signs” from the cosmos? Signs from heaven? Signs from the beyond?
Scientists tell us there is no way we can get signals from beyond the Earth. Real, electrical, turn-on-the-TV type signals. Yeah Yeah. But I believe there are hints on what to do all around us. We just have to be able to SEE them.
Humans are always grasping for answers…answers to questions that have no answers, except in the land of Believe. Should I change jobs? Is there life after death? Should I give my brother a call? All three are on the same cosmic level. All three dwell in the realm of emotional believe. All have levels of action and non-action.
Whether or not you believe in an afterlife won’t change the fact that tomorrow is the deadline to enter your painting in the Art Fair or that submissions for the writing contest are in three days. The answer to all of life’s mysteries will not change the fact that you woke up with a headache this morning or you missed your kid’s soccer game yesterday.
But what if you’ve actually looking to make a decision way way or another, and are just looking for a little affirmation? Deep down inside you’ve already made the decision; Spirit has made that clear. You just need to bring it into this dimension.
So you walk to work and find a penny on the sidewalk. Or you drive down the backroads and a hawk lands on a post just as you drive by. Or you turn on the radio and your very most favorite song comes on.
Are these cosmic signs?
Or is it just that someone dropped a penny, a hawk decided that particular post looked like a good stopping ground, and the song you wanted to hear has been on the schedule for three days anyway.
What does it matter?
You can make these signs YOUR signs. Big deal if they’re not really cosmic. They are a light at the end of YOUR tunnel. They’re YOUR affirmation: not your mom’s, not your kid’s, not your BFF’s.
This morning on the way to work I spotted a bright blue opening in a sky of grey, bubbly clouds. At the time I was talking aloud about wanting to regain focus in a certain aspect of my life. And there was my sign. I don’t care about the meteorological reason for that peek of sunlight. I don’t care about the odds or the physics or the validity of the phenomenon. I am taking it as a sign that what I was thinking, what I was feeling, was right for me, and I’m moving ahead.
So open your eyes. And your mind. Don’t worry what’s real and what’s imagined. Take the unusual and make it a sign for change. Nature gives us hints on how to move forward all the time. Just pay attention.
Now…I’ve got something BIG coming up on my plate…hope the sign isn’t something like bird poop on the shoulder or something…
So many things make us happy; so many things make us sad. So many times we wished we had turned left instead of right; so many times we are soooo glad we did turn right instead of left. Sometimes I get really sad that I’m soon going to turn 60 — where has my life gone? Other times I look back and am sorry my mother never made 54. I’m sad that I had breast cancer; other times I’m so glad they found it when they did.
Life is packed with highs and lows, yellow and blacks, snow and scorching heat. That’s what it’s all about. That’s what it’s always been about. For us, for our grandparents, for George Washington and Kublai Khan and St. Joseph. I’m sure they all had a hundred things they wanted to do at one time, too. Just like us. We all want to be appreciated for what we’ve done. What we’ve become. We all would like to think that our time here on Earth has been for the Greater Good.
This is not a confessional blog; this isn’t a tell-all or a bad news bomb. I’m sitting on my sofa this cold Sunday afternoon, looking at the bare treetops in my front yard. Of course, you know me — I’m also watching football, eating lunch, doing laundry, getting ready to write some in my latest novel, wondering what I’m gonna wear to work tomorrow. I’m also thinking about the fun I had with my grandbaby this weekend, thinking of taking some drugs for my achy legs, and feeling guilty I haven’t played fetchie with my dog today.
That’s really what this blog is about. Sometimes I feel I should be pushing this blog harder, trying to share the Word with more readers. Other times I think I’ve run this horse to the finish line, and should start a new creative venture. Yet more often I think I’ve let my writing simmer on the back burner for so long it’s started to dry up and stick to the pan.
How do you know if you’ve succeeded at what you tried to do? What is the measure of success? Big paychecks often are an indicator; good health, always. Waking up every morning is a success all on its own. Family? Kids? Making the perfect apple pie? All of the above are successes if never done it before. Success has always been measured from the heart first, from the masses second. And often it takes on a meaning more cosmic than one thinks. I think I make the best spaghetti sauce this side of the Mississippi. If you don’t agree, does that mean it’s not good? Of course not. All it means is that I can eat it all myself.
Writing is the same thing for me. What is being a successful writer? Have I ever been published? A short story here or there in the past 10 years. Have I won awards for my creativity? No. Have I ever I gotten a call or email from a publisher? No. Do I think I’m a successful writer? Yes. Definitely. I’ve had people say positive things about my stories; I’ve brought smiles and tears to readers. I’ve written 4 novels, 1 novella, 32 short stories, 42 poems, 84 blogs, and 3 novels in-progress. I think that’s being successful. Why? Because Ive continued to do what I love, no matter what the result. I’ve had fun making friends, creating worlds, and trying things that make me uncomfortable. I encouraged people to believe in themselves, given life to middle-age heroines, and never killed off the main character.
There are still so many paths to follow, worlds to explore. And that’s only after I play with my grandbaby, fetch my dogs, pet my cats, cuddle my husband, go to work 40 hours a week, clean my house, grocery shop, get together with family and/or friends, and dozens of other responsibilities. Life has only so many hours, and I’m still struggling on squeezing a few more out of every week.
So what this all boils down to is that I’ve driven the Humoring the Goddess train long enough. Hopefully I’ve encouraged you to believe in yourself, have fun with your life, and laugh as much as you can. There are so many things you can’t change, so why not toss your hands up and laugh and move on? You’ll know the things you CAN change..that little voice in your heart/head/soul is always there to remind you. Your job is to listen.
I have enjoyed entertaining you all these years more than you know. I have learned so much from you. I might try another blog, or finish one of my novels, or sit and spew poetry until I feel nauseated. I’m sure I’ll be back and visit sometime. If I start something new I’ll post it. I will look foward to hearing from you and YOUR projects. You will always find me at my email world… humoring_the_goddess@yahoo.com.
There is always a path ahead of you. Always. It’s up to you which one you take, or how often you turn left or right. In the end, none of that matters — the only thing that matters is that you keep walking.
Keep Humoring the Goddess…and Loving your Life…
Claudia Anderson
With the Madness of Summer burning the bottoms of our feet, there is not often much time to do any deep reading. A news headline here, a gossip column there, is about all one can squeeze in between State Fairs and Renaissance Faires and Italian Fairs. So I thought I’d make it short and sweet this time around…come along and check out some of my oldies-but-goodies and see for yourself how fun managing the madness and magic and middle age can be!
Sharpening the Tool — https://humoringthegoddess.wordpress.com/2012/03/10/sharpening-the-tool/
I hate it when people say that many middle-aged people “aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed.” It’s condescending, insulting, naive and just plain wrong. What I hate even more, though, is being one of those dull tools. Alas, there are times when I feel I’m struggling to stay in the shed, period.
Dancing in a Too Tight Tutu — https://humoringthegoddess.wordpress.com/2011/10/15/522/
I was sitting around the other day with my gal friends, sharing tales about the weekend. We all seemed to have gone through the same delightful experience, albeit in different ways. We all were relaxed, having a good time, and probably drank a little too much, for we all said, “I’m too old for this.” One sat with friends and sipped with friends all day, one went to an outdoor concert, and I party hopped. I’m sure the situations were on the same astral plane as many others “my age.” Time flows, excitement and comfort wraps around us, the atmosphere make us feel good, and before you know it we are waking up the next morning with a headache, saying, “I’m too old for this.
Dinner With the Queen — https://humoringthegoddess.wordpress.com/2011/06/22/dinner-with-the-queen/
In the mundane throng of your very predictable life, don’t you now and then want to just break out of the box and do something different? Now that you have the experience of all those years behind you, don’t you want to make that experience mean something? Don’t you ever want to be bigger than life? Just for a day?
The Importance of Unicorns and Bratwurst — https://humoringthegoddess.wordpress.com/2011/06/01/the-importance-of-unicorns-and-bratwurst/
The Importance of Unicorns and Bratwurst. This is one of those ethereal, out-of-body titles that try to connect the cosmic to the ordinary, the magical to the mundane. I was hit by this title some time ago, not having a clue as to what it meant or what I would eventually write about. Even now, as my fingers hit the keys, I have no idea where this storyline is going. But isn’t that so much like our everyday lives?
Merlot at the Lake House — https://humoringthegoddess.wordpress.com/2011/11/15/merlot-at-the-lake-house/
Quick. Name a handful of your favorite movies. Not the “great” ones that are in your library ― the ones that define you. The ones you don’t admit entertain you time and time gain. Are you what you watch? Are you big enough to admit that you are what you watch?
(Base guitar)
da da da thump…
Don’t wanna write ‘cuz there’s no light…
da a da thump…
Don’t wanna sing or work on my bling…
da a da thump…
Don’t wanna jog in my new tennis shoes…
(Loud and bluesy)
Don’t wanna do nuthin’ cuz I got the blues….
I’ve got the (loud) no-sunshine, no-energy, don’t give a whack ‘bout nuthin’ wintery bluuuueeesss…
Been wanting to write more blogs, network with other writers, send off my two novels to agents and publishers, work on a second draft of my third novel, organize the files in my laptop, download music for I-Tunes, enter a few contests, and teach myself Pre- Pre-Basic Photoshop. And that’s just my literary aspirations. I also want to make some jewelry, stencil my kitchen wall, sew a little bling on one of my tops, and try out a new Gordon Ramsay recipe. But the truth is, after I get home from work, all I want to do is slip into my jammies, curl up in the corner of my sofa, and veg. What happened to my creative side? Moreover, what happened to my energy side?
Once upon a time I thought I was alone in this lethargy. Even those days when the sun blasted its heat across the winter land, I would mumble about snow and slush and temperatures below zero and go home, curl up on my sofa, and veg. But in taking the pulse of those near and far lately, I find their energy has ebbed, too. My jewelry maker friend hasn’t threaded a bead for weeks. My gourmet guru hasn’t opened a cookbook in the same amount of time. And my book-a-holic friend hasn’t read more than a chapter or two a week. Our vacuums are clogging and our cats are snoring. What’s happening?
Fear not ― our water has not been laced with lazy pills. It’s mostly the Midwest Midwinter Blues (da da da thump). I’m sure readers in California or Georgia have different names for it (how about the Frigid Fifties Funk?) But it’s a real phenomenon. Lack of sunshine and vitamin D, cold toes, icy windows ―you know ― the whole bit. But it’s more complicated than that. Between watching eight episodes of Fringe in a row and shoveling a path from your car to your house, what else is there to do in the dullness? I mean, how many times can you play Angry Birds before your brains are scrambled?
Oh, I hear you energy-ites – walk. Ski. Play fetch with your dog. Join a health club. No no no ― you don’t get it. For many of us, these blues make our legs feel like tree trunks. Our eyes burn from the dry air blown by heaters and our hands hurt from holding onto the steering wheel too tight on our way home because the roads are sheer ice. We don’t want to risk pulled muscles and frostbite just to catch a glimpse at Apollo and his steeds and his daylight.
Well then ― are we lazy? I think not. Most of us are pretty darn busy from morning to evening. Office work. Baby work. Assembly line work. Walking. Typing. Cleaning. Moving. Calculating. Stress is everywhere, and it doesn’t take long for the strings of dread to wrap you up nice and tight. That’s why fresh air, sunshine, and gentle breezes are so important. Play ball with the kids, throw a brat on the barby, boat rides and bike rides. Those kinds of things nurture your psyche and your energy level naturally.
It’s much harder to get excited about food and sports when it’s dark when you go to work and dark when you come home. 5:30 p.m. feels like 8:30 p.m. Vegetables are dull, salads even duller. Television shows are all reruns, and even Hollywood gossip makes us yawn. What can be done to cure this International ― or at least Midwest ― Sluggishfest? Here are a few ideas:
1. Share your boredom. Nothing makes you feel better than when you share your blahs with your friends and co-workers and they say, “Yeah! Me too!” Misery loves company, and with enough miserable company you can have a pick-me-up party. Share your most uninteresting stories over drinks or lunch boxes. Joy arrives as you realize you are not the only one who’s bored with your stories.
2. Go to the library or video store and rent the most ridiculous musical you can find. How can you not raise your energy level when Lee Marvin sings and dances to “Hand Me Down That Can O’ Beans?” How can you not swing along Broadway when Fred Astaire and Ginger Roger sing, “You say toe-may-toe, I say toe-mah-toe…”
3. Play Hide the Pig. In my office we take turns hiding a little plastic pink pig. We aren’t sure if it’s a girl or a boy, but it sure breaks up the monotony when we discover it peeking out of various coffee cups or out from behind a stack of catalogs. It’s silly, it’s idiotic ― and a whole lotta fun.
4. Bring out your artsy crafty stuff and, without thinking, make the ugliest, corniest, cheesiest art thingy you’ve ever made. Don’t waste time “creating” it; just go for it. That tacky bracelet or stickman artwork or smudged stamp will do wonders for your ego. Like, “OMG…I know I can do better than that!”
I’m sure you can come up with your own kick starts to get your blah life back to its sparkling, energetic center too. As they say, this too shall pass. Conserve your energy ― you’re going to need it. Don’t worry about what you should be doing ― live in the now. Mother Nature has a way of pulling you back into the groove as soon as the weather warms up. Before no time you’ll be complaining about sunburn, burnt chicken on the grill and the humidity.
Now…where did they hide that pig?
©2012 Claudia Anderson
Humoring the Goddess 