Word.

Many, many years ago I read somewhere that you should choose a word that will be the focus of the new year.  Not exactly a new year's resolution but kinda along the same line.  I try to choose a word each year.  Sometimes it's easy to find the word.  Sometimes it's a lame word, hardly inspiring enough to share.  Sometimes the word I've chosen loses its significance within a few months into the year.  But I usually put some thought into my word and start the new year with that as my focus.

I think my word this year will be presence.

I found this quote by Eckhart Tolle today and it resonated with me.  A lot.  All too often I am too much in my head and thinking about the befores and afters in life.  I end up missing the now stuff.  And now stuff shouldn't be cast aside or ignored.  

Oh, I'll still think about yesterday and tomorrow.  I'll remember something funny that one of the kids said many years ago or a nice time I had with friends several years ago.  I might even think about a lesson I learned from a past experience.  I will think about making sure the coffee pot is ready for tomorrow or that my to-do list is written down.  But right now, at this moment, I will sit in bed watching the snow outside the bedroom window, listening to Jon's TV and Sarah's phone conversation, knowing that Jake is downstairs playing his game, and focus on being right here.  Present.

Catch up.

 I never wrote about my birthday.

It was humbling.  It was relaxing.  It was full.  It was really rather epic.  I wore a crown for a week.  Really.

Aren't we supposed to be introspective on our birthdays?  Certainly, as we get older I think there is a tendency to look at our lives and try to make sense of it or put it categorically into some sort of order.  I felt a little like a voyeur this year, standing outside and looking in.

What did I see?

I saw my kids, all of them, and marveled at where they were and who they were becoming.  It made me a little melancholy to think that none of them "needed" me in the ways they had before.  That's a rough transition for most Moms I would assume.  Bittersweet.  And the guilt that always sits in the back of my mind and whispers about what I could have done differently or better, whatever that even means.  It's a peculiar feeling looking at these people who I made and knowing that ultimately they aren't mine to keep.  

I saw my friends.  There were the ones who dropped everything and took me away for the weekend to celebrate in epic style.  There were the ones who stripped naked with me and partook in our ritual of couples massage (!) and brunch and mimosas.  There were the ones who danced and sang with me to our sad, favorite songs. There were the ones who simply wished me a happy day.  Oh man, my friends, each and every one of them are the most beautiful constant in my life.  Old friends, new friends, doesn't matter, not one went unappreciated.  

Humbled, for sure.

I saw my family, the ones who are biologically mine and the ones who are mine by choice (and so many of my friends can be included in this category too!).  What a strange thing it must be for my parents to see me as a 50-year-old woman.  For my siblings to remember me as a little girl.  I thought about my grandparents and birthday presents from the past; silver dollars and boxes of pudding mix and birthday cakes from "the" book.  Looking back is a strange mixture of both happy and sad.

I saw my Jake.  Always sitting quietly and shying away from the noise that is my people.  I see all of the efforts he put into making my birthday a big deal.  Where I can be loud and frenetic and mercurial, he is grounded and calm and unwavering.  He is the happiest, most unexpected surprise of my life.  Probably the only thing in my life that I can't find the words to write down and express how I feel about him.  Sometimes I try but it always ends up too pedestrian.

I saw my past.  Again, looking backward is a mixture of both happy and sad.  I truly am thankful for what's behind me because it is how I got to where I currently exist.    

I looked in and saw now.  And I like now.  

I am 50.  Half a century, Jake tells me.  Looking at my life, the good and bad and ugly and beautiful and hard and easy elicits so many emotions.  But the one that is at the forefront of it all is contentment.  I've got lots of stuff left to experience and fun to be had and fights to be fought and rough spots to smooth out but contentment will be my consort.

 

Birthday Week Kickoff!

 I've got a big birthday coming up very soon.  

Kinda thought I'd get a good start on it by completing my annual "Run My Age" run today.  This week is going to be pretty busy, between work and volleyball and football and life in general.  And I've got some super exciting plans for the weekend that might include wearing a tiara, eating some nachos and drinking margaritas, and probably eating ridiculous amounts of bread.  There is definitely NO running included in my weekend plans.  Unless it's away from the police.....

So birthday week is now underway.  Could be epic.

                                                                      Before!

        

After!

Unlearning

 I'm going to turn 50 this year. I'm honestly ok with this fact because I feel pretty great, both physically and mentally.  I can still run a few miles and I can do real pushups like a badass.  I do have ridiculous random aches and pains on occasion, but hey, I am almost 50!   

I also feel like by 50 years old a person should have gained a lot of wisdom and experience. I guess that truth is why I'm contented with my mental health right now too. Wisdom and experience...I'm all over that stuff.

So what kind of wisdom can an old crone like me share with the world? What have I learned in the course of my half-century existence?  

Well, first, I don't think we should ever consider ourselves finished with learning. Never. There is always something new that we can learn. There are countless new facts, new people, new ideas, new methods, and new mindsets to assimilate into our current lives. The key is, you must be humble enough to admit that your way isn't always the better way. You also need to embrace the concept of flexibility (I can still do a cartwheel!) and allow yourself to evolve into life.  

Wow. That sounds awfully "woo-woo," doesn't it?

But seriously, being open to change and learning new things is paramount to living a happy life.  

In the past several years I have learned so much. Hell's bells, I think I learn new stuff every day! I've learned how to live life alone and how to create a life with an amazing man. I've learned how to let go of an old mindset and embrace a new reality. I know how to wind hoses the correct way, wrap extension cords so they don't tangle, and fold towels efficiently (instead of just throwing them in a basket). I have mastered the weedeater and driven a tractor. I have learned how to let go of people and things who don't deserve a place in my life. I have discovered the elusive art of boundaries. I have learned how to work full-time and still manage my home well. I have learned how to let my kids start lives of their own. I am (still) learning patience.  

The list of what I have learned is nearly infinite and I couldn't even begin to list a fraction of it all.  Some of it is practical and functional and some are serious and deep with significance.  I'm grateful for all of it.

But you know what I think is the most important bit of wisdom I have learned? The one thing that I really want to share? That thing is the idea of unlearning. 

I  think that unlearning ideas, mindsets, patterns, and even people, is probably the most vital piece of wisdom I have found yet.

Unlearning stuff is hard! It can be uncomfortable too. I think unlearning absolutely requires the notion of flexibility. And probably a good dose of humility as well.

By unlearning, I have learned how to let go. To just let stuff go and allow for something different (and better) to emerge.  

There is a lovely sort of surrender in unlearning. It is the best lesson I have learned. And it just took 50 years to acquire this wisdom.  

Changing sheets and other horrible chores.

 I remember when my kids were all still living at home.  I remember when they all were needing something from me on a daily basis.  Some of those needs were more complex or abstract while others were purely practical.  Diaper changes anyone?  Or maybe even help getting dressed or reminders about brushing teeth?  (Funny side note:  I'm pretty sure that if I were to stay the night at my parent's house today, my Dad would still ask me if my teeth were brushed before I went to bed! True story.)  Those were the days of unending needs.

It occurred to me the other day that I no longer had to change anyone's bedsheets, save for my own.  Seriously, this is my least favorite chore and I'm no longer responsible for another person's sheet's cleanliness or lack thereof.   

And that got me thinking about some other things I no longer need to help with.  Laundry?  Nope.  Not my problem.  Cleaning the bathroom?  Nope, that gets done too.  Mostly.  I haven't wiped a butt in years and everyone makes it to the toilet in time if they're throwing up.  I don't have to worry about the Santa or Easter Bunny facade anymore, though both still visit the house at the appropriate holiday.  I'm not completely heartless.

You know what else?  I don't even have to go to the grocery store anymore!  I've got drivers who can do that for me.  

Yep, I have arrived.  No more bed making and no more grocery shopping.  

To be honest though, there are some things I miss being needed for.  I miss reading books to snuggly littles.  I miss babies in backpacks and strollers.  I miss the smell of freshly washed toddlers when I lifted them from the tub.  I miss choosing adorable outfits.  I guess there's much I can be wistful and nostalgic for.

But life moves on.  And I don't have to drive to the gas station to fill up my car tomorrow.  Yes, I have arrived.

Simple Stuff.

 I thought about deleting this blog.  

I also thought about starting a new blog.

But ultimately, I just thought f*%k it and decided to keep on with what I've been doing.  

Here's my warning though:  

1.  This is MY blog and these are MY words.  I don't care what your opinion is regarding ANY of it.  Keep it to yourself.  Or start your own blog.

2.  If you insist upon sharing your unsolicited opinion here, I will probably just publicly mock you and laugh at your ignorance.  

3.  Got something to say?  Call me.  Text me.  Write me a letter.  But don't embarrass yourself in my space. 

Now, on to the simple stuff.......

I have no pictures from this weekend to share.  There are no exciting stories to tell.  But let me tell you, this has been one of my favorite weekends ever.

 Ever.  Really.   

Thursday, drinks and dinner with my greatest friends after finishing a seemingly long week at work.   Friday was filled with cleaning, cooking, a nice long run, and a little self-care, followed by a quiet evening watching "Oregon Field Guide" reruns while Sarah and her friend watched movies, Jake played video games, and Jon recovered from football practice.  Saturday, a slow morning, fruit tree pruning (all hands on deck to clean up that mess!), and another quiet night doing nothing of importance.  Sunday, a little antiquing (with some great finds), a late lunch, kiddos in the house, and yard work until after dark.   

Simple.  Maybe even slightly dull.  But my heart is full, my body is tired, and my sleep will be welcome and peaceful tonight.  

I don't need much these days.

  

Writer's Block

Funny title.  Especially since my mind never, ever stops thinking and, therefore, I should have an endless list of things to write about. 

I guess I probably do have things I want to write about.  Real things.  True things.  Ouchie, painful things.  Funny things.  Sarcastic things.  

And I love to write.  A lot.  I can sit down and start typing (thank you, Mr. Halse, for teaching me this skill) and suddenly realize that 2 or 3 hours have gone by.  Writing is truly cathartic for me.  It also helps make sense of the jumbled up chaos that exists in my brain.  Once I put something down on paper, at least theoretically speaking, there is a certain clarity that follows.  As a ridiculous overthinker, this is a good thing for me.

I suppose a downside of writing is that the writer cannot always ensure that the reader understands the words that are written.  Interpretation is a tricky thing.  So is a misinterpretation.   

Often times in the editing process, I reread a sentence or a paragraph over and over, trying to be sure that what I'm saying is clear.  I want my feelings or opinion or perspective to be almost palpable to the person reading.  I want a reader to "hear" my voice in my writing.

Now here's where I'm struggling.....

Just how honest or transparent should I be when I write? 

 I censor myself.  I downplay the real feelings I feel. I include only portions of the true story (probably to protect people who don't deserve protection).  I make light of serious things.  I water it all down. Dilute it to a more palatable level.  

Hmmm.  That's not very honest.  Or real.  

Maybe it's time to get over this self-imposed writer's block and tell a few new stories.  Uncensored stories are usually pretty great to read.  I think it was Hemingway who said, "There is nothing to writing.  All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

Go back and look at the comments in my previous post.  

And then grab some gauze and the bandaids when you come back.

Ramble, Ramble, Ramble. (Someone take away her computer!)

 Hey!  Let's catch up!

It's a new year.  Which I guess is kinda cool.  But, despite all the crap that 2020 brought forth, I actually kinda loved that year.  A lot.

I went back to work in November after having been off since last June.  I really love my job and I work with the greatest people so getting back into that silly office made me so happy.  And as of last week, the kiddos were finally able to come back to school too.  It's a little hard to not hug them all, Covid be damned, but I keep my (social) distance.  😏  It's funny to me how much my job makes me feel like a real person now.  Especially considering all those years of not working and doing things like churning butter and knitting sweaters instead.  We're always evolving, aren't we?

I still haven't painted any rooms in our house and we've lived here for over a year.  But I have discovered that I love midcentury furniture.  Someone (who shall remain nameless) is kind of an MCM aficionado and is always searching for the perfect dresser, chair, swag lamp, or vintage stereo equipment.  Sometimes even at 1:00AM.  Jake has the most incredible eye for design and putting a room together.  And I am not even kidding.  I have been humbled by my pedestrian taste.  (look it up, it's the correct word!)

We really had a lovely Christmas, despite all the Covid stuff.  Maybe the Covid is allergic to turkey?  I mean, it's smart enough to cause massive communicability after 10:00PM.  Isn't that why bars and restaurants have to shut down then?  Anyway.....

Christmas was great.  I love my people and was surrounded by peace and love and an awful lot of happy.  I think it was the first time since I was a little girl that I actually looked forward to the holidays.  Feeling happy is still such a strange thing for me.  But I'm getting accustomed to it.

Gosh, there was that nasty storm one night last week and I actually got into bed and hid under the covers.  Jake laughed at me and couldn't figure out why I was being such a pansy, especially since the wind blew at my old house all the time.  I'm not really sure why it scared me either.  I lived by myself for years and wasn't ever particularly afraid.  At least not very often.  Maybe I'm getting soft in my old age?  Maybe.  But, Jake got into bed and held my hand until I fell asleep, and I made it through the night with little trouble.  He is the best.

Aren't we supposed to choose a word that expresses our intention for each new year?  I've done that before and the past words have been evocative of quiet or stillness.   I guess I craved tranquility back then.  I"m not exactly sure what my word should be for this new year.  Maybe truth?  Truth can mean a lot, not just as in telling the truth, though that is definitely something to aspire to. Living one's truth is definitely a positive and constructive goal as well.   Truthfulness, whichever direction you take it, is oftentimes painful and uncomfortable.  But it's real.  So maybe my word should be real?  What are some synonyms for real?  Genuine.  Authentic.  Bonafide.  Oh, man.  That definitely sounds like it could be my word!  I can't think of anything I'd rather be than authentic.  There are honesty and truth in being authentic.  And there's also reality.  So I guess it all goes together; one pretty package all tied up with a bow.   Authentic it is then.

Whew.  Glad we got that out of the way.  

So here's to a new year!  One that continues to be full of love and learning and humbleness and authenticity and truth.  Release the old and stagnant and embrace the fresh and new.  Love to you all!