Alyse In Words

DIYing the Next Part Of This Life


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Promise-Scented Winds

Day 68:  It was warm and windy outside and I invited some of that breeze into the house.  I had a lazy day on the exterior.  I didn’t cook. I didn’t eat much.  I did take some time to visualize and breathe. I’ve heard it said that we are inhaling and exhaling the same air breathed by Buddha and Gandhi, Mother Teresa and Bette Midler. I have been thinking about relationships and personal growth and I think it’s similar.  We have remarkable friendships and loves and those relationships move forward in time.  Some stay, some meander off, others we cling to for too long and still others we halt.  Then winds of life blow through and stir up feelings or memories and we reexamine them.

Today I thought about some of my relationships and change. My dad was a violent alcoholic. I remember coming home from some fete at school.  It was my 18th birthday and my parents had forgotten it. They were arguing, it escalated and I had my dad arrested.  That’s some ugly stuff.  As an adult, I poked around at family stories and learned about what happened to turn a creative, thoughtful boy into a bitter, brutal man.  I learned to put distance between kid-me and Dad so that as adult-me I could see Ted the person. I found compassion for kid-him and damaged adult-him.  I don’t sit around massaging old wounds and trying to remember the pain.  I’ve let it go.

I don’t understand why we cling to stuff and try to convince ourselves that we can change the past.  It’s like going to the cemetery and arguing with bones in the ground.  Bones don’t answer and you look foolish.  I think a lot of being content is choosing to let go.  I mean, have you ever seen anyone skipping down the street saying, “Wow!  This resentment I’ve been clinging to for 10 years makes every day pure sunshine and the future a promise of goodness!”

About a year ago, an old acquaintance from high school started chatting with me on Facebook.  Someone else contacted me and said, ‘She treated you like crap in high school. What’s with being all buddy-buddy?’  I remember laughing a little and feeling sad for the other person.  It was simple math–45 years of time and space and life changes makes one difference.  If you choose to let go.  I choose to.  I don’t pine for the good ole days.  I want to be able to look forward to the remarkable new days that belong to adult me.  Silver-haired me.  Those days were blowin’ in the wind and I’m glad they are blown away.  These days are swept with winds of change.  These winds are scented with sage and citrus and promise. Lots of promise.


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Fly By The Seat of Your Spanx

Day 64:  Today there were a few more bumps in the road and a wrench I had to yank from the machinery in my effort to get things back on track.  I spent some time reading Crones Don’t Whine and chewed on a passage for a while:  A crone is herself. She accepts change, appreciates the good in her life, grieves for what dies or loses vitality and goes on.  What she does and who she shares her life with are expressions of who she is–not her identity.  When it’s time to let go of a phase of life, she can.  But the truth is, she does not reinvent herself intentionally; rather by improvising and adapting to change.  

If I am reading that all correctly, what Jean Shinoda Bolen is saying is that wise women live in the present and deal with what’s in the now.  Smart wise women don’t make too many plans and essentially fly by the seat of their Spanx.  Okay.  I can see why my expectation that making changes for myself on my nifty time line is a set up for failure.  No–it’s all a set up for learning.  If nothing ever breaks, how do you learn to deal with broken things or broken dreams?  How else would you learn how to make repairs or seek out a different route to your destination?  By no means am I saying that learning something requires hard times.  I’m a speak-it-into-reality person and I try to choose words carefully.  A while back I started saying things like ‘I want my life lessons to come from positive experiences,’  and ‘I want to learn and grow without experiencing disasters.’  Life eased up.  It all seems to go a lot better when I pay less attention to the billboards and more attention to the highway markers of life, you know?

So, I’m here.  I’m letting go of the idea that it’s disruptive to have my son revolving through the house as needed.  He’s working on his life.  I’m working on my life and my life is good–even if I am not working on it at warp speed right now. The only one setting arbitrary deadlines is me and I am in charge of my life.  I say I can change that.  Letting go feels a whole lot better than the hand-wringing and griping I did last week.  I have been doing fly by your personal ethics living most of my life.  I got through fly by the seat of your blue jeans with no child support single parenting.  Both son and daughter are figuring out their flight plans; nobody is crashing and burning.  I don’t know why I expected crone transitioning to be something I could neatly map out.  It IS yet another chance to improvise and adapt and generally fly by the seat of my Spanx.


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Balance and Serendipity

Day 56 – I really like paying my bills.  No. Really.  I don’t make a ton of money.  I haven’t had a raise in pay in 4-5 years and the cost of living in Colorado has gone up about 14%. I probably have a reason to whine and complain but the fact is, every month I am able to pay the bills. I have more than enough left to make my life.  I had the extra expense of a garage door repair and still managed to save around $100.  I am not a financial genius by any means but I do trust in checks and balances–actually serendipity and balance to be specific.

I think that if I act responsibly then the Universe or the Great Whatsis takes note and when I need a hand I get one.  I pay my bills early.  I buy food for the birds and critters in the trees around my house. I pay for boxes of Girl Scout cookies and tell the kids to give them away to seniors and people in uniforms. It’s not rocket science. It’s what I can do. In return when my computer monitor blows out (like it did on Sunday), a friend hands me the monitor she’s been hauling around in the trunk of her car for a year and Monday night I have a whiz bang new monitor.  You may think it’s dumb luck.  Philosophical folks would say that we speak our realities into existence and that what we say happens is what happens. I must admit that I have been on the ‘thoughts become things/words create our realities’ train for a long while now.  I believe in serendipitous events,too.  And I believe in balance.  There is only one part that puzzles me.  It goes like this:  If I try to sell my stuff, nobody buys it. I can help other people sell their stuff and what I tell them to do works–people buy their stuff.  If I spend money, I usually get great bargains. It’s how I’m built–someone out there got long thin legs and I got short legs but great bargaining ability. There’s some balance there.  I think. There is an asterisk:  *If I sell my stuff to use the money for a cause, it all turns out well very quickly.  For example, I bought a set of amazing handmade, artist signed vintage Native American jewelry from a wealthy person for $5.00.  Two weeks later I needed money to take donated books and clothing to the Pine Ridge Reservation.  I sold the jewelry to a collector for enough money to finance the 1000 miles of driving, truck rental and expenses. As I clear my clutter, friends keep advising me to sell the stuff.  They look at me with puzzled faces when I say I can only give it away.  I could sit here and write 50 stories about giving away something and how much joy and serendipity it has brought to my life.  I don’t know how it works.  I just know that it does work. Playing tag with the Mystery.  I like this game.


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What a Present

Days 51-54:  If I were more of a professional at writing this I would write a dandy excuse and then break this out into several posts.  I am trying to keep the days together, so here it is–some fun and crazy stuff, some introspection and learning that happened in the days preceding, including, and after my 63rd birthday.

On day 51, I went to work with a singular goal in mind–get through the day and look forward to the weekend.  I did the thing I do nearly every year for my birthday–I bought pizza for my co-workers. It’s not a big expense but it makes me so happy to see people  who don’t expect good surprises in that place to have one once in a while. Someone remarked about my generosity and I told them it was a completely selfish action–I enjoyed myself immensely.  Surprise pizza is never a bad idea.

I woke up on day 52 to a world coated in ice.  After days of spring-like weather, it got cold and brittle.  So, I made hot tea, snugged in with my comforter, and began underling things and writing in the margins of my copy of Crones Don’t Whine. Just the phrase appeals to me because I can’t become one of those women who has nothing more in her life than soap operas and swapping stories about fair/good/poor bowel movements.  If you’re still here, you’re not here just to poop and talk about it.  Jean Shinoda Bowen writes:  Moving on becomes an option or a necessity, predictable and unpredictable events happen.  It’s not only that outer circumstances change; your thoughts, feelings, and dreams may also shift and change. Many women now feel a pull toward solitude for reflection, self-expression, inner development or just plain time off from others. Inner time is needed for this new season of your life.  I turned these words over and over in my head and looked at the challenge that is the most cluttered room in my house–the room with my computer, sewing and art supplies. The words self-expression and inner development challenge me.  Part of practicing contentment is feeding the passions in your life. Mine are shifting.  But shifting to where?

On day 53 I turned 63.  If my mom were still around, she would probably be 72 by now.  Her credo was, If you don’t have enough sense to lie about your age, it’s not my fault.  I don’t lie about it.  I stopped dying away the grey about 3 years ago. I have saggy parts and body fat. I cover those things in bright, comfortable clothes.  Deal with it.

At a pre-birthday dinner with some of my best friends, we ate amazing Lebanese food and solved the problems of the world.  I listened to them disagreeing with one another and thought about how lucky I am to have them in my life. Friendships are an amazing gift. My friend who recently adopted a dog at my urging gave me a birthday card with a note from her new pup included. He thanked me for saving his life. That was an awesome gift, too.

My birthday went like this: Drop off my leak-infested new car at the dealership for a week of rehab and leave being forced to drive a 2017 Malibu with 37 miles on it. Sigh. Gasp. Poor me!  A dear friend and I went off for mani-pedis that took up most of the afternoon. It was soothing and I struggled to remember when I had last done this. Self-care, therapeutic touch–these are important when you are on your own.  I must do this more often. Back at home, my son had made chicken soup from scratch–more soothing than birthday cake. We sat telling stories and ideas while I imbibed in too many margaritas. Mark that down in the older but not wiser in all things column.

Today, day 54, I had a hangover and nobody to blame but me. I put my grey-streaked hair in braids, added some BB foundation and went grocery shopping.  I bought some groceries for my son. It’s not my job and I kind of regret it. Sigh.  I napped and avoided any progress on the house but I did put a name to what’s stopping me in that room.  And I am actually going to write about that here tomorrow.  The best part was writing thank you 63 times to friends and family who had wished me a happy birthday. What a gift. What a future? What a Present!

 


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Bird Food for Thought

Days 49 & 50:  Little opportunities have been coming like small waves–the kind that thrum against the shoreline of a lake when something has stirred the waters.  Opportunities for happiness or kindness or to behave differently than I might have before keep gently rolling forward and nudging at my feet.  I don’t know if it’s a product of aging or learning, but the heights that seemed important to scale, the unidentified thing or pleasure of great magnitude, even the grand gesture of gratitude do not seem so important to me.  There are so many views from a rise in the road or a foothill climbed with a friend that is just as satisfying as an Everest.  So many chances to embrace handfuls of pleasure and give away nuggets of gratitude.  I know what I prefer, even if once more it is not the norm.

I spoke with Heroic Keith (of car repair fame) and told him how much his efforts on my behalf meant to me.  He stammered a little and I reinforced just how much his kindness coupled with being good at his job really meant. I could feel him smiling through the phone and I was glad that I didn’t let the moment slide by.  I had two sticky conversations with people whose circus and monkeys had shown up.  I listened and had empathy and didn’t offer to fix anything for them.  I was glad I was able to let the moments slide by.  When I finally arrived home to wagging dogs, I had my moment of gratitude for the day.  I filled the bird feeder and the suet cages and scattered some peanuts for good measure.  And I said thank you, thank you, thank you to what or whomever was listening.  Some cultures say that birds carry our messages to the Universe.  If that’s true, then perhaps a woodpecker or chickadee with a full belly carried off my message into the night.  It may not be a grand gesture but it feels just grand to me.


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Breathing

48 Days – I spent part of the day thinking about the balancing act of creating new habits while shedding old ones.  Sometimes it feels like a lot of pressure on myself and before I am even done typing this sentence I think the first part of it is just procrastination and pure BS.  The part I didn’t anticipate in all this would be stirring up memories that I now need to filter through new knowledge.  Not as bad as a root canal but less fun than the nausea after riding a Tilt-a-Whirl.

The only solution I have right now is to just breathe.

It’s been about 20 years that I’ve been practicing conscious breathing.  Connecting your thoughts to your breath is a simple practice and it’s one I was fortunate enough to practice with one of the Dalai Lama’s right hand monks.  You’d be surprised what $45 and an afternoon at the Free University can get you sometimes.  Breathing in with a thought and exhaling with another thought can be pretty powerful stuff.  I breathe in procrastination; I exhale timely actions.  I breathe in my angst and breathe out peaceful life.  After a few minutes it feels like your entire body is taking it all in–that thing that is fearful or difficult or so hard to release.  And you are present with it, face to face.  Then the air whooshes out and the seed-sized essence of what you want to grow is exhaled and covers you like a satin sheet.

Breathing. That’s the progress of the day.


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Dust Bunnies, Coyotes, & Repairmen

Days 46 & 47 – Let’s just say the past couple of days have been about a little more and less talk and definitely more action.

I am finding some of the planning parts of this exercise in practicing contentment frustrating.  I made a great list.  And what I can tell you is that in the unseasonable warmth I got a lot done–just not items on the list.  Some of them are half done and a few of them I have already reviewed this morning and wagged a mental finger at myself about.  Here’s what I’ve learned over the past couple of days:

  • Dust bunnies beneath furniture, like the bunnies wintering in my shrubs, procreate.
  • I sometimes need to remember to stop:  In order to keep my son on my insurance, papers needed to be run around to offices so that representatives from KP could write out information already in KP’s computers to confirm to other members at KP that conditions still exist. I tried to fix this.  Every door slammed shut as they reminded me that he’s an adult.  I nervously handed the paperwork over to my son and he got to spend about 2.5 hours of his day off driving from office to office until someone relieved him of the paperwork.  It’s not my job anymore.
  • It drains every bit of my energy to deal with money-snatchers.  I spent about an hour with a garage door repairman in this conversation:
    • You quoted me $219.00 on the phone.
    • Well, this will cost about $675.00
    • You quoted me $219.00 when we discussed this by phone.
    • Well, I could do it for $459.00
    • I don’t want to waste your time. I thought this would be $219.00.
    • Well, I could do this for $250.00.
    • Does that include taxes and the trip fee?
    • (Eye roll) Yeah, okay.
  • Pushing past my comfort zone is not as uncomfortable as it might appear once I start seeing some results.
  • We all move at different speeds; even slow motion is forward motion.  I have a neighbor whose husband died nearly 3 years ago. She has been surly and rude. She has kept her dead spouse’s truck like a shrine in front of her home. On Friday I dared to speak to her because, to my surprise, she has adopted a dog–a blind dog.  We talked for a minute or two and she actually said something resembling a lighthearted remark. A part of me danced on her behalf.
  • As soon as I sort of figured out how to shop for one, my son started spending more time here.  My groceries have vanished.
  • It is both good to have a tribe and okay to allow yourself to lean on them once in a while.  Around 4 AM I woke up to whimpering and howling.  It took a few seconds to realize it was a pack of coyotes somewhere on the mesa talking to the moon.  I looked at my dogs.  They were alert with faces pointed toward the window and in a single motion simultaneously swung around, ran from the room, and quieted the neighborhood.  They returned as a pack and surrounded me once more. I thought about how easily the world would turn if we as people could come together like a retriever, a boxer/pit and a miniature dachshund, recognizing that we are all part of a tribe no matter our differences.