Category: Starting Over (Page 4 of 5)

Ready to risk?

05/09/2016 /

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You’re over 50. Or well past 60.  You’ve decide to make a change. A big one. Take the new job. Retire. Move to the brand new address across the country or across the world.   Marry someone who doesn’t quite fit your family’s heirloom locket.  Or, (gasp) maybe you’re considering moving back to previous, less glamorous location after several years of living the dream.

And here it comes…

  • You’re too old.
  • You’re too young.
  • You don’t know anybody there.
  • You already have a good job.
  • You can’t do this by yourself.
  • What is something goes wrong?
  • Why would you want to start over?
  • Don’t you like it here?
  • Why would you want to live there?
  • How can you leave/ignore/betray your family?
  • How you leave/ignore/betray your friends?
  • Aren’t you scared?

Or

  • How could you consider going back to where you started?
  • How could you give up what you have?
  • Don’t you love it here?  
  • Don’t you love us?
  • Won’t you be going backwards?
  • Why can’t you make it work here?
  • Doesn’t it feel like you’ve failed?
  • Aren’t you scared?

It’s not that they don’t love you, they just don’t love that you are considering such a big change.  Especially at your age. 

The ironic part is 50+ is when you are best equipped to make a big change.

At least that was true for me. In my 20s and 30s, I was too busy trying to gain work experience and feel comfortable with everything life threw at me. I thought about making big changes a few times, but let fear and uncertainty stifle any real action. It wasn’t until I was able to cast off all the baggage  of other people’s expectations that I could clearly hear what my soul was telling me.

And I’m so glad I listened. Because even though every major life change brings with it moments of anxiety, doubt, loneliness (and the occasional cheese dip binge), it also brings a great deal of peace. Leaving your comfort zone can be the best way to find out what—and who—really matters to you. When you put distance between you and the way things have always been, you can  turn around and view it from a different perspective. It’s like standing in a museum and staring at an oversized canvas. The tiny, insignificant details fade away, the background blurs, and what is left is the core—the passion—of the painting.

Before, you saw the faces, you heard all the noise…. Now what is left?  What images still touch your heart? Who do you genuinely miss and want to keep close forever? What truly matters in your life? I think it’s the good stuff—the stuff you have with you always, and can always return to.

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In fact,I also think we must stay open to what comes after the big risk and the wonderful self-discovery.  Sometimes, we come to a point where we start to realize we have made the dream come true.  We did accomplish many things, have wonderful new friends, and gave ourselves a magnificent gift.  And now that we done it, we might find ourselves longing to simplify our lives even more.  And that could mean going back to where we started.  

You will learn a lot when you start any new adventure. Here’s what taking a big risk taught me:

  • How anything is possible.
  • How lonely it can be.
  • How fantastic it can be.
  • Which friendships are real.
  • Which people live in my heart.
  • The wonder of email and texting.
  • Dogs don’t like change.
  • Learning new things requires forgetting some old stuff.
  • No matter how good you feel about things, you’re still going to occasionally wake up at 3 a.m. and wonder what the hell you are doing there.
  • There’s not always going to be a sign to point you in the right direction.
  • You can mow grass while it is snowing.
  • You can come home again.  And again.
  • God is always there. He’s just quiet sometimes.

Changing your life, starting over, whatever words you use—it is not without its challenges.. But I believe the universe is standing by waiting to kick in a lot of power once you commit.  The road may not be easy.  But look where it can lead.

“Trust yourself, then you will know how to live.”     Goethe

Put down the rocks.

01/18/2016 /

Life is difficult.

So says M. Scott Peck in “The Road Less Traveled.” Yet, we solider on, because that’s what we do. One foot in front of the other, even on the cloudy, gloomy days when staying in bed or hiding with a bag of Cheetos sounds much more appealing. I certainly have my gray days, when it feels like somewhere, I made a wrong turn.

sw_RoadClosed_ncpx0034What about that happy ending…did I miss the exit sign?

Weren’t things supposed to be easier by now?

In the movies; the answer is yes. In real life; not so sure. We look at the outsides of other people and compare them to our insides. And often, we don’t like it.

“They” look happy. Successful. Stress-free. “They” don’t have cellulite. Or past-due notices in their mailbox. Or family members that give them migraines.

While “we” are tired, frustrated, and bored to death with the daily routine. We don’t recognize ourselves in the mirror. We think about that boyfriend or girlfriend we let slip away. We kind of just wish someone would come along and pay our bills and show us where the yellow brick road begins.

Hey, maybe there’s a map somewhere, one that leads to that treasure we all think we’re going to find. But wouldn’t it be ironic if we found the map, and “X” is right where we are right now?

Could it be we’re making things harder than they have to be?

That maybe instead of just dealing with what is going on right now, at this very moment, we’re also still worrying about everything that happened up until now, as well as everything that we think could possibly happen in the future?

Whew, that’s a lot right there.

In the book of meditations known as “God Calling”, edited by A.J. Russell, there is a passage that talks about a hiker, slowly climbing up a mountain, pausing to rest and survey the landscape below. As the hike becomes more and more difficult, the hiker has to stop more often, breathing heavily, his legs burning, his back aching, wondering if he will make it the rest of the way.

Then this question is raised:

What if the hiker put down his backpack and began to take out rocks…one rock for each hike he had ever gone on?  What if all along, he’d been hiking up this mountain carrying a pack full of rocks from his entire life? What a load he had put on himself! Now, free of those rocks, he can continue…stronger and lighter, knowing he will make it the rest of the way.

I don’t know about you, but I have a tendency to carry a lot of rocks around. From childhood.  From failed relationships.  Bad jobs.  Things I should have said.  Things I should not have said (those are some big rocks).  I even pick up other people’s rocks and try to carry them as well, though I don’t know why.

It seems so simple, yet it can be so hard…stay in the present.  Live right now.  Just take it a day, a moment at a time. Some days are cloudy. Some days just are the pits. But it’s not going to last forever—and once it’s done, it’s done.

IMG_0320 - Version 2Here, now.  Carry only what you can. Put the rest down.

And if that load really is more than you can bear, I believe you don’t have to do it alone.

I’m going to keep climbing.  And I’m going to keep my pack as light as I can.  Because I’ve lived enough years to be stronger and wiser than I was many years ago. I know I can make it. And I know the view from the top—or from wherever I am at that moment—will be worth it.

 

“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.”

Confucius

 

 

Second (or third) time around.

07/13/2015 /

Have you seen the movie “I’ll See You in My Dreams”?  Blythe Danner plays a woman of age who fills her days with lunches on the patio, happy hours with friends, a little golf and memories of her early career as a singer.  She has been a widow for 20 years and has stayed out of the dating scene…until a friend convinces her to try “speed dating”.  I won’t give anything away, but I will say the results are hysterical.

She does later meet always handsome Sam Elliott, also at a point in his life where he’s tired of being alone and “testing the waters”.  Again, without revealing any plot points, suffice it to say that meeting him gets her to thinking…is it too late?  Is she too entrenched in her daily regimen to welcome in a romantic partner?

Is what she had so many years ago enough for a lifetime…or is it ever enough?

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I enjoyed this movie for many reasons.  Blythe Danner is such a talented, glowing woman whose natural beauty shines through her wrinkles.  Sam Elliott is fully white-headed and also just who he is.  They don’t play games. Or try to look 30.  Or immediately grab on to one another because the hourglass is emptying.  I think they just meet where they are.

And I think they can do that because they are older.

it’s Nature’s last laugh it seems.  When we’re young and smooth-skinned and non-bald and no stomach, we attract a lot of other attractive young bodies.  But our minds can’t quite catch up sometimes.  And then when our minds have figured out what truly matters and what doesn’t, we don’t feel attractive because our jeans don’t fit anymore and we need glasses and it’s a little harder to last on the dance floor.

Fear can grip us.

Do I want to try again?

Will my heart get broken?

Will he/she leave me for someone younger?

Do I have the emotional energy to date again?

Will my children accept someone new in my life?

And then the whole online thing.  So many people are doing that.  Some have success, others find frustration…it somehow seems backwards to trade applications and match your strong points…before ever meeting to see if that spark is there.   But in today’s world, meeting people—especially after age 50—is like searching for a  mouse in a cornfield.  You know he/she might be out there, but you have no idea if you’ll ever cross their path.

And speed dating?  Wow.  They say we decide in the first 30 seconds or so whether we want to see someone again.  But gosh…I fear I’d drop my index cards with my carefully written opening lines, knock over the water glass, and somehow impale myself with a fork…before I even got a word out.

Imagine who that might attract.

It’s a minefield.  It brings us all, no matter our age, back to our most basic vulnerabilities.  Yet in some ways, it can be easier.  If we stay authentic.  If we allow the other person to be the age (legs, eyes, stomach, hair/no hair) they really are.  If we remember what matters most.

If we can laugh together.

And if we can just enjoy now.   What do you think?

 

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.  They’re in each other all along.”

      Rumi

 

 

 

 

 

Leaving the nest—and taking wing.

06/22/2015 /

There’s a hollow gourd hanging on my front porch with a hole in it, making it the perfect choice for a bird couple looking for a cozy, comfortable, fixer-upper and shield against wind and rain.

The first tenants were a precious pair of mountain chickadees who worked furiously to make it theirs…bringing small twigs and grasses and stray balls of animal hair into the hole. Then Nature intervened as it always does, and a feisty wren threw them out, bags and all. I couldn’t figure out why I kept seeing all the twigs all over the floor of my porch. Then I looked up and watched as the tiny wren pushed the furnishings through the hole and peeked out, daring anyone to intervene.

IMG_0887Wrens are cute. Their song is beautiful. But they are not to be messed with.

So in the weeks that followed, things progressed, and soon there was a lot of chirping going on. I occasionally would see Mama wren bring in bits of food to her brood. Very Disneyesque.

Then it got ugly again.

One day, two smaller wrens sat on the rain of my porch squawking endlessly….flapping their tiny wings in pure terror. Looking up, Mama wren was sticking her head out of the hole in the gourd with a fierce look that said, “No room here. Go out on your own. My job’s done.” Each offspring would attempt to fly back into the gourd only have to have Mom promptly shove them off.

Party’s over.

Time to the leave the nest.

Time to get on with your life.

It made me think of how each of us goes through this rite of passage, whether it’s physically leaving home, losing our parents, or just mentally separating and becoming an adult. Some of us spend time as caregivers and the roles get reversed…yet he is still our father, and she is still our mother.

And when they are both gone, it’s quite shocking how different it feels.

No matter what our age is. Suddenly, we’re grown up. As a friend put it, “Now there’s no one between me and the sun.”

Both of my parents are gone, and there are periods of time when I don’t think of them. But there are days when it feels like they are standing right next to me. So many times I’d like to show my Mother something. Or ask my Father for advice. It’s hard.

And I can only imagine how hard it was for them when I left home and became independent.

DSC_0066Cutting ties is what we do (at least most of us). It’s what all of Nature does. It’s not easy, and I don’t think it’s meant to be. Adulthood is hard and you might as well get that message early on.

We all know people who just expect things to go easily, and who seem shocked when they don’t. Then they get resentful. And often, they hold that resentment their entire life. (And everyone they come into contact with pays for it.) So the waiter gets stiffed. The cab driver gets disrespected. The homeless person on the corner gets a dirty look.

As boomers and beyond, we’ve seen so many changes in our lives. We watched Howdy Doody. We saw man go into space. We ate TV dinners. We probably played in the neighborhood after school and didn’t get chauffeured to soccer, recitals, or play dates. We got very excited when the ice cream man came around in the afternoons.

Things are different now. And while we can hold on to our memories, there are some things we might have to let go of. Because as cozy as it might be, we can’t stay in that gourd forever. If we do, we’ll miss out on so much.

I don’t think it’s too late to let your life take wing. In fact, I think now is the perfect time.

Where have you never been, that you yearn to go?

What adventure calls to you?

What have you always wanted to say to a lifelong friend?

As the late motivational speaker and author Leo Buscaglia always used to say, the time is now. Stop waiting for the right moment.

Why not today?

“Don’t brood. Get on with living and loving. You don’t have forever.”

     Leo Buscaglia

 

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