Category: Starting Over (Page 3 of 5)

Don’t ever give up!

01/23/2017 / Laura

Uphill both ways.

That’s what they say about the hiking trails in the Rocky Mountains: they’re uphill both ways. And somehow, they’re usually right. But then, it’s all about the journey, right?

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So many of us baby boomers have wanted to do something for so long, thought about it so many nights, spent so much energy gearing up for it, and then once we’ve done it, we’re so tired that we do well to make it across the room.

A word of advice, or more of a warning that’s actually an admission no one tells you about: if you do cross the desert or swim the seas to make your dream happen, or you go through the exhausting exercise of moving across country, starting a brand new business, retiring to something you’ve never done before or any other major do-over, be prepared: you will be tired.

Very tired.

And it will take you more than a year to really get back on your feet again…and not just because you’re 50+, 60+ 70+ or beyond. You’ll have bursts of energy, you’ll relax many of those rigid muscles because you’ve finally given your inside voices a rest. But you’ll still have stretches where falling back into lazy habits will seem so comforting and so right, until one day you wake up and realize you’re in the same spot on the same couch, just in a different zip code.

And that’s okay. Because even animals hibernate. They have down seasons as we do. Plants go dormant. The weather shifts.

So if you need another 6 months or a year to add a new exercise program, a new volunteer effort, a social adventure into unchartered territory, it’s okay.

In fact, it’s recommended. Because you no longer have to “hurry up and relax.” You’re there. Which can bring you to the next worry: once you “get” the thing you’ve always wanted….will you “miss” missing it?

Sounds crazy. Maybe.

But it’s surprisingly common. There’s a lot of safety in having an ideal Shangrala in your mind, a safe place you can escape to when things around you are just too much to deal with. Always knowing there’s a place that restores your soul where you can go for complete escape is a wonderful thing. If you actually move there, or go work for that company, or follow that wonderful man or woman, and have this joy every day, what will you do then?

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If you are lucky enough to find a way of life you love, you have to find the courage to live it.

Very wise words from someone that I’m sure has taken the plunge. The closer you get to the flame, the more chances you’ll get burned. Maybe things won’t be as you remembered. What if it’s all a ruse…what then? Will anything be left you can believe in?

I’m happy to report that when it’s really your soul talking to you, it’s something you can believe in. Granted, once you achieve it, you have to make it work—you have to supply the energy and sweat and effort to carve out your place there. But it’s real. All these crazy thoughts, the second-guessing and turmoil in the middle of the night…that’s the ego, the childlike part of you that wants to stay hidden in Mother’s skirt. It wants to convince you that you can’t possibly do this—and definitely not on your own.

But I say, yes you can. I did. I have. And I’m still alive.

And while I’ve had some issues over the years, still occasionally get scared and lonely, wished I could just call someone I’ve known for years and ask them to come over and help, etc., etc., I’m in grateful awe of what the universe empowered me to accomplish: changing my reality.

Taking a whole new path.

Going out there and seeing what else is possible.

And whether you stay in your dream, or your dream changes…or you find due to a change in your life that you need to return to your old stomping grounds, or downsize, or find a new place to call home, you will know you are doing the right thing:

Achieving your dream, wrinkles and all.

“Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.”

Harriet Tubman

A letter to God.

08/15/2016 / Laura

Dear God:

I just need to talk to someone. I need to say what’s happening and how small I feel.

You know I’m moving across country again. I”m sure you know, since it seems some doors have permanently closed where I am, forcing me to make some decisions I wasn’t quite ready for. But you know best, so I’m going. Going back where I moved from almost 10 years ago. Back to familiar places and faces and humidity. All that’s okay. (Insert whatever huge, scary, or confusing thing you are going through here.)

But tell me, why does it have to be so hard? Isn’t there a lever up there somewhere that a big burly angel can pull where things fall into place? Repairmen show up? Nothing breaks the week before you try to sell your house? The paint matches the porch? That person calls you back?

I guess not. Or my angel’s sleeping on the job. Because I can report that this move is even harder than the last one, which I thought nothing could top.

This time around, I decided to update my kitchen to help my house sell faster. Great. Except they flooded my hardwood floor, which is still waiting to be fixed. Because no one ever shows up.

Then I decided to have someone repair-paint my front porch. Only the paint in the can doesn’t match the paint on the porch. And the paint experts in the paint expert store took two hours to perfect match it. (Close enough would have been fine with me.)

Then there’s the fact that I can’t find the safe deposit box key for the safe deposit box at the bank. See, I need to find the key to open the box so I can then close it. But without the key, the bank has to call angry men with big tools who will drill it open. And everyone will stare.

Then there’s other people who want me to do things that I can’t do now that I’m in the packing-moving-cleaning-worrying mode. I just physically can’t do some of the things my friends want to do. And my mind is somewhere in a box, but I can’t remember which one. Yet I value friendship right now more than ever, and it feels like some people are pulling away from me, which is really painful.

And of course, there’s the clients who sit quietly all year and now, that I’m in a vortex of stress, want me to fly to meetings. Attend conferences. Tour facilities. Rewrite War and Peace. And I simply can’t do it.

Of course, these aren’t real problems. Real problems are diseases, death, not having enough to eat. I know that. Yet I also know at the time, whether it’s seeing your parent helpless after a stroke, or leaving the vet in tears after your pet is put to sleep, or knowing your marriage is over, or being so worn out from a repairman never showing up time and time again, it can all just become too much.

And I don’t like that feeling.

Change is hard anytime. I confess it’s harder when you get older. But I’m beginning to wonder if I’m truly getting feeble.

I’m scared the house won’t get on the market when it should.

I’m filled with anxiety about disappointing people.

II’m worried the right house won’t be on the market at the right time.

I’m just so tired emotionally.

I don’t want to cry about it.

I’m tired physically. I know I’m not eating right.

I’m not exercising so I’m getting fat.

I’m worried about my dog.

I did cry this morning.

I don’t do well with unfinished messes.

I hate worrying about money.

I want to do something truly meaningful.

I’m weary.

I keep thinking it will get easier.

I just want to be happy.

Yet in the back of mind, somewhere behind the empty Cheetos bags and my college diploma, there’s the voice that inspired me a decade ago….you can do this! You can change your life! You have the energy! The universe is waiting to help you! You aren’t giving up your dream, you’re just changing course!

And I do still believe that. I truly do. I think everyone over 50 should stop, look around, and decide if there’s an adventure they want to pursue—and pursue it. Scared, tired, or unsure, just do it. I wouldn’t give up mine for anything. I’ll always have it. And now, I know I”m just starting a new adventure.

A little older, yes. Joints a little more creaky, you bet. But somewhere in there, my spirit is still the same.

But it’s also important to stop occasionally and just make a plea to God, the universe, or whatever spirit or being you talk to.

Admit you’re scared. Exhausted. Confused. It’s okay. And it’s the part of the grand adventure that a lot of people don’t talk about.

But they should. Because that’s when the grace comes.

When you’re feeling weaker and more afraid than you ever have. When it feels you truly are unraveling.

Then it’s important to remember that feeling is not the same as reality sometimes.

And if you’re friends or the sister or brother of someone who is making a major scary life change, don’t pull away. Let them know you are there. Listen. Pray for them. Take the late night phone call. You might be feeling some pain and anxiety too, but just consider they might be feeling like they’re in a black abyss and no one is in there with them. Just help them breathe.

Anyway, God, I’m just checking in. You know, sharing. Turning it over. Letting go. Because I need your calm. Peace. Strength. Courage. Wisdom. Patience. Healing.

And maybe another bag of Cheetos.

“When life gives you 100 reasons to cry, show life you have 1000 reasons to smile.”

Anonymous

Let it go!

07/25/2016 / Laura

Downsizing. Rightsizing. Simplifying. Purging. Lightening your load. It’s a popular theme for us over 50 boomers and beyond. And it can be quite liberating.

I mean who doesn’t enjoy the feeling of just getting rid of stuff? Especially when it’s still usable and could be of value to someone else. Thus the many trips to Goodwill, ARC, and other charitable organizations who know how to recycle and reuse.

But what all do you get rid of?

There’s the drawer full of socks you never wear. The books you never read or read so long ago you can’t remember. The strange knick-knacks some long deceased aunt or uncle bought you while overseas. That odd artificial flower arrangement. That weird scarf you can’t stand. The tie clip you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing.

That’s the easy stuff. But what about the rest?

It can be hard to separate the memories from some items. Sure, it’s not the prettiest vase on the planet, but Mother gave it to you. Or the pipe set from your grandfather. Or the painting your father’s aunt did that you ended up with but have never hung.

Is it okay to throw these things away?

Moving experts will tell you yes, it’s okay. Keep the memory. But maybe don’t keep the item. Especially if you’re moving. There’s just too much stuff. Too many boxes to pack. Too many boxes to unload.

(You know they multiply in the moving van, right?)

Yet there’s the guilt.

We remain convinced that somehow, those who have gone on the great beyond will know we just threw out that ceramic dog.

Seriously?

The late comedian George Carlin had a great routine about this….our “stuff”. We all have stuff. We have to move our stuff because our homes aren’t big enough to hold our stuff. Then there’s the stuff we take when we travel. Which stuff should we take?

Stuff.

Move cross-country a few times and you’ll have a new perspective. You don’t think you have that much, until you count the boxes in your garage.

Oh my God, how did I get this much stuff??

I think it’s kind of like friends. There are those people who are just on the fringe of our lives, who maybe like to “friend” us on social media but don’t really know our stories. People who wouldn’t be there at 2 a.m. in the emergency room if we called them.

But would be there if George Clooney were staying in our front room.

Do you hang on to them? Probably not.

You hang on to the people who care about you. Who ask you how you are and then wait for the answer. Who laugh with you, and cry with you. People who let you be who you are, warts and all.

Those you keep. Always.

Many older people face a lot of anxiety and sadness when they are told to “rightsize” so they can move into a smaller residence, often a senior living community. Understandably, giving up cherished antiques can be quite upsetting. But think about it: how much space do you really need?

How much space do you actually live in?

Is it the antique, or the memory, that lives in your heart?

I can tell you this; being about to embark on another cross-country move and packing boxes until my eyes roll backwards has inspired me to part with many things. I can only hope they give others joy.

I know I feel simply giddy.

“How many things are there which I do not want.”

Socrates

Which way to go?

06/20/2016 / Laura

Whenever I go for a hike, I’m always eager to get started, to walk through the beautiful scenery, breathe the fresh air and feel the sun on my face. I’m careful to keep my balance as I walk over rocks and roots so that I won’t stumble.

So as much as I’m enjoying my surroundings, I’m mainly concentrating on my feet…on getting where I am going.

The destination.

Along with this is the aspect of time. If I’ve driven to the mountains for the day, I know my time is somewhat limited, so at some point, I’ll need to either turn around, or only spend so much time at the trail’s end before knowing it’s time to get back. So as beautiful as the lake is, or the view, or the mountaintop, or wherever it is I’m going, it’s not forever.

I can’t stay there. I want to get there, but I can’t stay there.

When I ultimately do turn around to go back down the trail, I’m always struck by how much more I enjoy that part of the hike. I see things from “the other side”. I notice so much more. Everything looks even more beautiful and I often see things I missed on the way up…maybe it’s an unusual tree. Or a lovely small waterfall trickling down the side of the trail. Or a view from a perspective I didn’t note on the way up.

The hike feels more inviting, more relaxing. Because I’ve already accomplished what I set out to do—hike the trail. Now I can really enjoy it.

But only when I’m coming back down the trail.

Lately I’m struggling with a crossroads. Trying to decide which path to take, or whether to simply be still. My heart pulled me years ago to move a great distance to answer my yearning for the beauty of the mountains. I did it, scared and unsure, but I followed my instincts and took the giant step. There were many who advised against it, just as there were many who applauded my determination.

Now, almost a decade later, I’m faced with some challenges that include, in various degrees, issues about money, aging, a strong desire to do something else with my life, and more. I’m considering turning around on the trail and going back to where I was before.

Mind you, I’m still just considering it. Yet already I’m hearing some of the same things I heard almost 10 years ago. How can you do that? Aren’t you scared? What if it’s a mistake? (And my new favorite):

How can you give up on your dream?

I’m not giving up on anything. I’ve accomplished my dream. I’ve lived it. It’s in my heart and it will always be there. I can come back and touch it anytime I choose.

But I’m not on the same part of the trail anymore.

Already, I’m “heading back” in many ways these days. It’s not so much a slowing down as it is re-evaluating. I’m asking myself:

What matters most to me?

What brings me joy?

Can I have more peace of mind?

What new adventures would I like to participate in?

I’ve been talking with some trusted friends and mentors about their experiences of “going home again.” One very successful man told me I’m “driving his Porsche.” He said he always wanted a Porsche, and longed for years to have one. Now he’s in a position to have one, but he no longer wants it. Instead, he’s enjoying married life with his wife and stepson. “But you went out and followed your dream,” he said. “You’ll always have that.”

Another wise friend reminded me of words written by author and teacher Parker Palmer, who talks about two kinds of heartbreak. The heartbreak when you are deeply hurt or angry and your heart feels like it’s in shards. And then heartbreak where you heart has to break open in order for the new good things to flow in.

I like that. Because thinking any kind of change won’t be painful is short-sighted.

Of course it is.

Giving up anything you love hurts. Yet, as I think Palmer is saying, it also makes you stronger.

I also like the idea that while I may never really “belong” anywhere—simply because I’ve lived in 4 states in my life—I’ll always “belong” with myself. Place is important, but it’s not what stays deep inside. I think I’ve always had this “place” inside of me, just as I’ve always carried other places with me as well.

Look at a labyrinth: you begin on the outside, following the wide path around the edges, slowly working yourself closer and closer to the center. Then suddenly, you find yourself walking back towards the outer edge, going back past the route you just took, yet you aren’t in the same place.

You’re covering new ground.

And in fact, you have to do that to eventually reach the center destination…before you turn around and walk back to where you began.

When you throw caution to the wind (at least metaphorically) and you do achieve what you’ve always wanted….a new address, a new relationship, a new job, whatever…you show courage and self-knowledge. No one can ever take that away from you.

Where you go from there is your decision. There’s a lot of advice out there about how to change your life and go a whole new way. There’s very little said about deciding at some point to return to your roots, and start life anew.

That’s really rockin’ the wrinkle!

I still don’t know what to do. I’ve been at crossroads before, many times wondering which path looked like the right one. But I can say that I’ve always trusted the trail to take me where I need to be.

And it’s always a welcome sight.

“Wherever you are is the entry point.”

Kabir

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”

Marcel Proust

“And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.”
Kahlil Gibran

“When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

Yogi Berra