Category: Inner Peace (Page 15 of 20)

Walking Through the Fear.

03/14/2016 /

Nobody like to talk about being scared.  Is that because we don’t think we are supposed to be scared anymore, now that we’re all grown up?

When we were little, it was okay to admit something might be hiding underneath the bed.  Or the Ferris wheel was just a bit too high for our liking.  Or that weird-looking insect that just jumped on our leg made us feel uneasy.

But what about now?  Especially since as boomers and beyond, our fears are usually a whole lot more menacing….

Cancer.  Bankruptcy.  Losing a spouse.  Surgery.  No retirement fund.  Nephews, nieces, and grandchildren serving in combat.  

Dying.

JOd4DPGLThifgf38Lpgj_IMGI doubt if anyone enjoys being scared, but I can’t believe we don’t all share that emotion from time to time.  And it’s sneaky.  We think we’re mad because the traffic is slow, or the dog just ate the newspaper, or our boss just asked us to do the impossible.  When really, deep down, we’re afraid.

Afraid we can’t handle it.  Afraid we’ll look bad.  Afraid we’ll fail.

It always reminds me of the flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz.  First there’s one.  Then another one shows up.  Then all of a sudden they are everywhere, swooping down and carrying me off to the land of despair.  What began as a simple worry can escalate to global termination if I’m not careful.  Why is that?

I don’t want to give fear that much power over me.  I’m amazed how it can make my stomach queasy.  Give me dry mouth.  Make me feel tense and rigid.  It messes with my mind and my composure.  It’s one thing if you are literally staring at your fear—say, a hungry mountain lion.  But it’s another when you know your mind has latched on to some worry and has inflated it to such levels that you can’t think straight.

So you stop.  Take a breath.  Pray to your guardian angel to lend a hand.

Try not to get on the phone and chew out some unsuspecting telemarketer.

Years ago, I was in Yosemite National Park, and was challenged to walk up a very steep rock (shaped like a giant mound, but high enough to make me nervous).  I’m not a fan of heights.  I can tell myself everything’s okay, but I still feel my heart racing and my stomach talking to me.  But I trudged on, because another person volunteered to hold on…and gave me some advice.  He suggested I just stand still and feel all the fear and let it wrap around me, then take another step, and another.  I did so.

I confess it did help, though I won’t say I’m not scared of heights anymore.  Still, sometimes I call upon that advice when other, more threatening fears appear on the horizon.

87Like waiting on lab test results.  Or wondering if I made a wrong turn when mapping out my life.

Maybe some day I won’t be afraid.  But for now, I’m going to cut myself some slack and hope others do the same for themselves.  Emotions are supposed to be felt.  Even fear is telling us something.

It reminds us we are alive.  And no matter what our age, we’re still very young spirits.

“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by each experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face.”

    Eleanor Roosevelt

 

 

 

 

Feeling left behind?

02/22/2016 /

20150125There’s a lot of great things about growing older.

But there’s some tough stuff as well, like losing more people every year. People in your family. A spouse. Friends. Co-workers and past acquaintances.

Whether it’s the finality of death or a phone call that tells you someone has a terminal disease.

That just can’t be.

 She’s not old enough.

 He was just about to retire.

 We went to school together.

 She’s younger than I am.

How old does that make me??

It’s natural to feel some fear when you get news like this. It’s also natural to take a hard look at yourself, and then feel guilty because it’s supposed to be about them, not you.

Yet it is about you…and me…and how strange it is to age on the outside and yet still feel 25, 35, 45 on the inside.

I had a 93-year old neighbor once who was legally blind but every bit as alive and involved as she had always been. Her smile was a welcome sight every day. Yet she confessed to me that it was getting harder and harder because she had outlived everyone…her friends, her post loves, her anchors. I didn’t get it totally then, but I’m starting to now.

It feels like we’re all in lifeboats bobbing up and down at sea, holding hands, getting through all the storms and high waves together. Then more and more of our fellow life travelers fall in the water, disappearing, and the chain is not as strong as it used to be. Hey now, hang on a minute.

We’re all supposed to get through this together. We’re supposed to make it to the other side together. Don’t leave me!

photo-1428263197823-ce6a8620d1e1It’s even hard when famous people die, if we’ve identified with them our whole lives and they’ve become a part of how we experience each day. A singer who helped us escape the rigors of teenage angst. A sports figure that inspired us to work out harder because he or she never gave up. An author whose words pulled us through a life crisis.

Now they are gone, and we are left to fend as best we can. It can make me feel more exposed and vulnerable at times. And yet, I’m guessing what’s really happening is we are left with the essence of who we are…and sometime’s that a good thing. To “meet” ourselves without any filters or escape hatches.

All the people we have known, loved, liked, respected, or even disliked help shape who we are…and now as boomers and beyond, who we have become. But they are just part of the picture.

Depending upon your belief, you may take solace in that you will remain connected with them for eternity, that this is not a final goodbye. (That’s my belief, and in a few cases, I’m ready to really make sure they understand what they meant to me!) Knowing that can help ease the pain, and underscore how tight some bonds can be.

Here’s some nice words from the late poet A.R. Ammons:

 

In View of the Fact

 The people of my time are passing away: my wife is baking for a funeral, a 60-year-old who

 died suddenly, when the phone rings, and it’s Ruth we care so much about in intensive care:

 

it was once weddings that came so thick and fast, and then, first babies, such a hullabaloo:

 now, it’s this that and the other and somebody else gone or on the brink: well, we never

 

thought we would live forever (although we did) and now it looks like we won’t: some of us

 are losing a leg to diabetes, some don’t know what they went downstairs for, some know that

 

a hired watchful person is around, some like to touch the cane tip into something steady,

 so nice: we have already lost so many, brushed the loss of ourselves ourselves: our

 

address books for so long a slow scramble now are palimpsests, scribbles and scratches: our

 index cards for Christmases, birthdays, Halloweens drop clean away into sympathies:

 

at the same time we are getting used to so many leaving, we are hanging on with a grip

 to the ones left: we are not giving up on the congestive heart failure or brain tumors, on

 

the nice old men left in empty houses or on the widows who decide to travel a lot: we

 think the sun may shine someday when we’ll drink wine together and think of what used to

 

be: until we die we will remember every single thing, recall every word, love every

 loss: then we will, as we must, leave it to others to love, love that can grow brighter

 

and deeper till the very end, gaining strength and getting more precious all the way. . . .

 

heart-shaped-fluffy-cloud Life is precious. Grab it with all the might you have and celebrate your spirit, your soul, and your passion for living. Do it for yourself, and those who have moved on to a higher being. Rock that wrinkle!!!

 

“Being happy never goes out of style.”

     Lilly Pulitzer

Anticipating Spring

02/15/2016 /

DSC_0326

 

Okay, so it’s not Spring.

But it’s not that far off.

We’re still in the midst of cold air, icy sidewalks, and shorter days.  But have you noticed?  The air smells a bit fresher.  The light is lingering longer.  And every once in a while, we are blessed with wonderfully warm days and bright sunshine that make us giddy with anticipation.

Spring is coming.

When these golden mid-winter days come, I love to fully take advantage of them.  Open the windows.  Clean out the car.  Dry rugs outside in the sunshine.  Take a big giant breath and let it out slowly, relaxing in the promise of longer days ahead.  It’s good for the soul.

In the spirit of what lies ahead (and to give those of us boomers and beyond who still face several winter and spring snowstorms), here’s some thoughts from Alfred Lord Tennyson that might give you cheer:

 

Early Spring

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Once more the Heavenly Power
Makes all things new,
And domes the red-plowed hills
With loving blue; 
The blackbirds have their wills,
The throstles too.

Opens a door in Heaven; 
From skies of glass
A Jacob’s ladder falls
On greening grass, 
And o’er the mountain-walls
Young angels pass.

Before them fleets the shower,

And burst the buds, 
And shine the level lands,
And flash the floods;
The stars are from their hands
Flung through the woods,

The woods with living airs
How softly fanned,
Light airs from where the deep,
All down the sand,
Is breathing in his sleep,
Heard by the land.

O, follow, leaping blood,
The season’s lure!
O heart, look down and up,
Serene, secure, 
Warm as the crocus cup,
Like snow-drops, pure!

Past, Future glimpse and fade
Through some slight spell,
A gleam from yonder vale, 
Some far blue fell; 
And sympathies, how frail,
In sound and smell!

Till at thy chuckled note,
Thou twinkling bird,
The fairy fancies range,
And, lightly stirred,
Ring little bells of change
From word to word.

For now the Heavenly Power
Makes all things new,
And thaws the cold, and fills
The flower with dew;
The blackbirds have their wills,
The poets too. 

“Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.”

Aristotle

Self Care After 50.

01/25/2016 /

Most of us boomers and beyond are pretty good at taking care of others. We’ve had enough practice. Whether when raising children, watching over nieces and nephews, or taking care of our parents as their health faded. We know how to wipe chins, listen to tearful confessions, and hold a wrinkled hand.

And yet, when it comes to taking care of ourselves, we often fall short.

photo-1428263197823-ce6a8620d1e1A friend tells us about a situation that is causing pain, and we offer advice. Someone we love worries over an injustice and we bristle over the fact that anyone would hurt our loved one. Yet we find it hard to be as protective of ourselves.

Oh, it will be okay. We’re fine. Yes, it hurt, but we’ll get over it. Oh, we’re sure they didn’t mean to be so rude.

It’s wonderful to be kind and forgiving to others. But why is it sometimes so hard to be that way towards ourselves?

Maybe we forget we even have the power to really be kind to our inner self. We want others’ approval; we want to fit in; we want to do what “is right.” Yet perhaps what we need most right now at this point in our lives is our own approval.

Our own forgiveness.

I doubt anyone gets to the boomer and beyond status without making a few mistakes. Not achieving a goal we just knew we would accomplish. Missing out on a major career opportunity. Letting that true love get away.

So we think we’ve failed.

But I don’t agree. I think that many times, that “wrong road” we took actually was right where we needed to be.

We learned a lot, grew stronger, and probably discovered things about ourselves and others that we would never have known had we been “successful”.

photo-1413920346627-a4389f0abd61There’s a lot to be said for persevering through a tough challenge. And regardless of where we have come from, what matters most is where we are right now. Are we living life as we hoped?

Do we greet each day with anticipation?

Is there a moment of happiness each day, or at least contentment?

Can we find a reason to laugh each day?

And most of all, do we treat ourselves gently, with respect, love, and a little slack?

I think each of us has earned, and deserves, that much. Remember the 1986 book “How to Be Your Own Best Friend”? It was all about self-love and acceptance, and it was somewhat ahead of its time. There were critics who thought that being your own best friend was an odd idea. Yet those who embraced it cheered how for the first time, they felt permission to just be who they are.

And it was a reminder of how important it is to feel okay in your own skin. Which after 50+, 60+, 70+, and beyond years, feels pretty good.

Scars and all.

 

“I celebrate myself, and sing myself.”

   Walt Whitman

 

 

 

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