December 30, 2014
I always breath a sigh of relief when New Year's Eve is over each year and everyone is home safe and sound in their beds. Frankly I could skip the whole celebration as it seems kind of ridiculous to me. Especially all the kissing that happens some years with people at midnight that you would prefer not to ever be kissing...
The thing I do like about New Years is the sense of renewal I usually feel each year. It makes me reevaluate the things that I want to do more of, as well as what I prefer to do less.
I remember my niece mentioning last summer, when we were discussing how much social media can over take our lives, that she has to stop and ask herself every now and then if this is what she wants to be practicing- for what we are spending our time on is basically what we are practicing.
This remark struck such a cord with me. It's so much easier to get in bed each night and check Instagram and Facebook instead of reading a book. They are so immediate and mindless. But the strange thing is that when I don't check them I kind of feel like I am missing out on a party or something. Isn't that weird?
A cyber party.
Yes that's weird.
So my new year's resolution this year is to delegate 4 nights a week that are social media free so that I can be reading more and not practicing what I don't want to be practicing :-)
If you have a few minutes, enjoy the above video of Tao Porchon Lynch. She is 96-years-old and the worlds oldest yoga teacher. Her high heels made me laugh. Imagine wearing those at her age. I can barely wear them now.
Like our little yogi, here's to a new year of doing more of what we want to be doing.
(Thank you to Caroline for sending this in.)
December 22, 2014
It's been a humdinger of a few weeks as the holiday season always is. In addition, we also had a funeral for Bernadette, a beloved aunt of Mr. Fix-It's, and a trip to the hospital for my mom, who pulled a muscle in her chest, and thought the pain might have been heart related. Luckily it wasn't.
Anyway, I've been unable to get to some of the tasks at hand.
Road blocks everywhere... I know you know what it's like when you can't get out of your own way...luckily the road blocks allowed for some stillness and much needed reflection.
Bernadette, as my sister-in law Laura said in her eulogy, was a beautiful, kind woman with an infamous smile and pretty white hair. She loved to wear scarves, the color red, and a generous splash of Jean Naté.
She also loved to sleep on crisp, ironed, hand-embroidered, Portuguese sheets.
But more than this, she was generous and chose to make a difference in the lives of people she loved, every day.
She was full of grace, with a gentle, calm manner,
whom everyone felt comfortable being with.
I feel blessed to have known her and loved her.
Happy holidays to you all.
December 09, 2014
If you can't change it, move on. Thou shall not stew.
Stop getting stuck in your story about woulda. coulda. shoulda. and get on with doing what you love to do.
Surround yourself with loving, low-maintenance people who increase your vitality instead of rob it.
Remember that aging is part of the wondrous cycle of life. It is normal and it is what is suppose to happen, just like getting our baby teeth.
Take care of that pesky task that has been hanging over your head for way too long. It won't take nearly as long as you think it will.
Have an orgasm.
Did I just say that?
Stop worrying about what other people think. It's your life.
Don’t forget that human's greatest emotional need is to feel appreciated. Acknowledge someone.
Get over your fear. Fear is normal, so embrace it and then you'll get past it.
Take care of yourself physically, emotionally and mentally. Be your own best friend. It is the foundation for a good long life.
On another note:
I'm delighted to be featured in the Boston Globe today in the living section. Julia and Juliet, thank you :-)
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Photo by Jef Bettens, Limburg, Belgium
December 05, 2014
|Photo by Franci Strumpher
"Old people are always starved of touch: no husband, no lover, no child to slip a hand into a hand, to plant sticky kisses on nose and cheek and mouth, to snuggle and fit into the curves of the body. I watched my grandmother in her last years: her hands, the skin drawn parchment-like over the bones, stroking, stroking, stroking the chairs, the table, the bedspread."
Touching, touching. Loving to run her brush through her gently curled hair.
You may remember me saying that my Dad once said that the best thing that retirement homes could do would be to put everyone in a bed with someone else.
Recently, I went to church with my nearly 93-year-old mom. I scooched over closer to her in the pew, drawing her closer to me and put my arm around her shoulders, as we listened and settled in.
She took my hand and held it, as I rubbed the warmth of her long narrow fingers.
I try to hug her as much as I can. For her. For me. Holding her and slowly breathing her in. Knowing that someday there will be no more of her.