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Losing power. Again.

Day 3 of no electricity due to a recent storm.

Day 3 of no internet (without driving to another location).  Day 3 of no unlimited life on the phone (without driving elsewhere to charge).  Day 3 of no television, radio, CD player, Netflix and other entertainment choices powered by electricity.

Day 3 of no way to straighten or curl hair.  To flip a switch and see your face well enough to “fix it”, as my mother used to say.

Day 3 of thinking about all the food in your refrigerator that had to be thrown away.  And realizing how dependent you are on electricity when mealtime comes around.

Day 3 of realizing you should have done the laundry…because you’re almost out of underwear.

Day 3 of your long-haired dog panting and looking at you with imploring eyes.

Day (and night) 3 of getting candles set up in the right places so when the sun goes down, you can walk through your residence without crashing into anything.  And of sitting still on the couch and listening to the occasional traffic, or hearing neighborhood children outside playing, or a mockingbird serenading its top 40 bird songs.

Day 3 of just being.  Other than the stress of having to figure out when you need to be somewhere to receive work emails, you are for all practical purposes, truly without power.

As in powerless.

Of course, we are always powerless.  But we don’t know that.  With so many gadgets and plug-ins and apps, we really are the masters of our universe most of the time, at least in our den.

At least in our minds.

Yet let one good 100 mph microburst show up, and everything suddenly gets very dark.

Very quiet.

For some, it’s truly the first time they have ever really just had to be.  And it makes them quite uneasy.

Just sitting, listening to the sounds of the evening, thinking, meditating, breathing.  Or, fidgeting, fretting and letting frustration win.

What if life was always like this?  If you finished your work, had your dinner (which came only from what you had grown or raised), and now spent your evening by candlelight, with no external stimulation?

it’s interesting that we have come so far in so many ways, obtained so much knowledge, learned about so many wonderful cultural opportunities, expanded our minds as never before, and yet, when we can’t “turn something on”, something that it outside of us, that does not directly engage with us, we don’t know what to do with ourselves.

Withdrawal can be very hard.

I confess it’s illuminating (even in the dark) to realize just how dependent I am on white noise…on an electronic presence in the room that seems to “connect” me to other people and feels safe and familiar.  There’s nothing wrong with enjoying that.  But I wonder, does it keep me from a little too comfortable?

As baby boomers and beyond, we’ve had so many different experiences, and we’ve more than earned the right to enjoy sitting on the couch and watching movies, or listening to music, or just enjoying being inside the air-conditioning.  But maybe very once in a while, we should pretend we don’t have electricity, and power ourselves down.

And sit in the dark.  And hear the symphony that is the night:  a breeze, laughter, the hoot of an owl, gentle rain.

It might help us remember just how powerless we really are.   I”m okay with that.

But I confess…I’d rather do it when it’s 60 degrees.

Busy, busy, busy.

When did we get so busy?

Seriously.  When was it?  

Remember when you could get through a week, a day, an hour without checking the calendar?  Without looking at your phone to see where you were supposed to be?  Without having to respond to someone’s request for a call or meeting or visit?

How can it suddenly be Sunday night and still there is a stack of magazines and newspapers you want to read, that are dated several days before?  Why is the house never clean?  Where is that stack of mail you were definitely going to sort through?

How can there be so much to do, yet even when it’s done, we don’t feel like we’ve really done anything that matters?

Have we traveled somewhere new?  No.

Have we learned something truly important?  Probably not.

Have we impacted someone’s life?  Highly doubtful most days.

And in the midst of it all, when we feel our reserves are running low, and we actually try to sit still, decompress, breathe deeply and withdraw from the world, why are we bombarded by messages and emails and tweets that demand to know why we aren’t responding?

Think of the pioneers.  People who got up at 4 a.m. and went in the fields to plow, cut lumber, wash clothes, feed the chickens and in general toil to the point of exhaustion.  They knew how to work hard.  And they need when to rest.  And I have a feeling they all understand how important it was to rest when they could.

We seem to have forgotten that.  And for sure, we boomers know better.

Work is good.  Feeling productive is wonderful.  Some weeks are crazy.  But in the midst of it all, one thing does not change:  we have to rest.  We have to recharge.  We have to let our minds settle.

When we don’t, our motors burn out.   We get angry, depressed, and we can’t be happy.

Chances are, you’ve put in many years of working late.  Or raised children without many nights’ sleep.  Or composed a symphony or graded papers or sewed a prom dress long after you’ve reached exhaustion. You pushed yourself many times.  And you survived.

But now, maybe it’s time to take a look at what is keeping you busy now.

Is it really that important?

Can’t the call wait?

Does the email have to be answered right this minute?

Does it really matter if you don’t make up your mind right now?

Maybe take a moment.  Maybe pretend the phone didn’t ring.  Maybe for just a few minutes, or a day, or a weekend, be a pioneer.  Work hard, then sit and rest.  Listen to the birds.

And is those around you don’t understand, do it anyway.

Listen to your spirit.

Enough.   Get busy just being.

You might be amazed at what you’ve been missing.

“The quieter you become, the more you can hear.”

        Anonymous

 

Getting unstuck.

A friend of mine writes that she just can’t seem to get off square one. She’s very frustrated with her job. More to the point, she loathes it. She feels trapped in a situation that she helped to create. Though a longtime outdoors person and environmentalist before it was chic, she made a decision years ago to pursue a career in an entirely different field because jobs were scarce and she finally gave into the pressure to choose something “safe”.

The result: she has a steady paycheck, for which she is very grateful.  But she can’t deny  she’s miserable.

She feels completely stuck.

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How well I understand. You sit at your desk, or your breakfast table, or whatever location it may be, and you feel invisible chains around you.   It’s a living anyway. It’s a marriage anyway. It’s the town you grew up in anyway. You can’t really change anything. Oh, you could, but think how much effort that would take. And what if you fail? What if you go broke? What if no one ever calls you again?

Faced with thoughts this huge, it’s no wonder you can do no more than stir your coffee or check your messages on FaceBook. It’s your reality. It’s where you are, and everyone else is doing what he or she really wants.

Right?

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I remind my friend that it took me 20 years to finally make a major change in my life—and I didn’t do it before my 50s. And that truly, wherever you go, there you are. You must beware of comparing your insides to other people’s outsides.  I  have brought with me my bouts of inertia, insecurities, my moments of doubt and fear, etc., etc.

Yet, because I broke free of my own self-imposed paralysis, I also stirred up the forces of Nature that remain dormant until you make a major life change: new energy, new spirit, new enthusiasm. I believe there is some part of you that flips a switch when you’re faced with that fear of learning a new job, meeting new people, memorizing new pin numbers, figuring out streets and routes to grocery stores, doctors and the really important destinations like ice cream parlors and bookstores. The power is there for us if we choose to plug in. Goethe told us the universe would move as soon we do.

But it still can be so hard.

Just getting quiet enough to hear that tiny little voice inside us that tells us we can do it—that’s a challenge in itself. Why? I wish I knew. I wish I had trusted myself much, much earlier. I wish now that I could let go of some of the old fears that stalk the forest of my mind, waiting for me to trip and fall, scared and out of breath, so they can come out of the dark and encircle me.

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One step ahead. Some days, several steps ahead. Other days, many steps backward. But just keep getting yourself up. Keep moving. Whether you’ve already taken a risk, or you’re just beginning to really formulate in your mind what you want your 50s, 60s, 70s and beyond to look like, you’re making progress.

As a friend recently said, “change is easy, committing is hard.”

 

 “Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth.”

                                  Pema Chodron

 

 

 

 

 

How strong are we?

Recently I was in a Sears store buying ankle weights and 2 dumbbells.  As for why, I’ll do my commercial for people over 50 needing to do some form of weight training for their bones, particularly women because we lose so much of our muscle mass as we age.  I personally want to always be able to carry my own groceries, do my own yard work and get that 40 pound of dog food from the trunk of the car into the house.  And I can.

But after a move, I left behind some of my weights so when I saw that Sears had these discounted, I decided to get them.  As I’m also a member of a gym, I only wanted small weights for use at home (dumbbells 5 pounds each, ankle weights also 5 pounds each).  So in total, this purchase weighed 20 pounds.

And the woman checking me out, who was older than me by a few years, reacted with surprised that I thought I could carry them out.

Seriously?

“It’s only 20 pounds,” I said.

She still frowned.  “You sure you can carry that?”  And then she struggled to get them in the bag.

Wow, I thought.  If you can’t carry 20 pounds, that is more than sad.  That’s serious.  Maybe her husband is doing all the heavy lifting, but what if she’s left alone?  Why would she not want to be able to do that for herself?

The ironic part is, I then went home and emptied and spread sixteen 40-pound bags of top soil…carried the bags from my car to the yard, then carried each bag to where I wanted it emptied, then spread it out.

16 x 40 = 640 pounds.

Not saying it was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, or that my back didn’t talk to me a bit.  But I still did it.  And I was glad

I know the day is coming when I won’t be able to do things like that.  Or even sooner, when I just don’t choose to do things like that.  And that’s perfectly fine.  Haven’t we all earned that right?

In fact, when you think of it, once you are a boomer and beyond, you’ve carried a great deal of weight already….work, disappointment, love, heartbreak, marriage, divorce, children, death, success, failure, and the very real desire to get even with the cable company.

So maybe we can put down a few things now and again.  But sometimes I feel the strongest when I can sense another person Is questioning my viability.  Like when a much younger person looks at me like I’m a museum piece.

Or when I’m completely ignored because of my age.

I want to say, hey, let’s talk about what real strength is…and what it takes to get it.  Years and years and years of heavy lifting.

And as long as I can carry the load, I’m going to do my best.

Because I think we’re all a lot stronger than even we realize…and sometimes it feels good to remember that.

“You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”

      A.A.Milne

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