Monday, October 28, 2013

SAY YES TO THE MESS




Entropy lurks.
Go with it.

That's been my lesson the past few weeks.
I've been on a "create order--be planful" kick that  isn't working.
Just reading the definition of entropy made me laugh--"a degree of disorder and randomness in the system".

A degree of disorder and randomness in the system???  Oh yeah!

I plan a trip with my husband to visit the family of one of our five kids and "bingo" another kid with kids wants to come here during the same week.

I decide to spend Thursday night writing and my local grown daughter suddenly needs a baby sitter because her schedule has gone blooey.

A year ago we empty out our garage with the gift of help from my Boston son and his wife.  We celebrate being normal grown-up people with a garage you can actually use.  Just today, they arrived with a truck load of things to store in the garage!

My client work doubles right when I decide to taper.

I just took down Fourth of July decorations from my mantle.  I can't find the cold medicine I need.  The stacks of books in my home office have become
landslides, and I can't find my favorite heavy coat. Found last week's blog still in "draft"  And these are only the things I'm willing to share

So I soothe my self.
I long ago decided to say yes to the mess. 
And I have to remind myself.

Yes to the Mess for me means:

Family over schedule
Good work over clean house
Comfort over order
Friends over errands and tasks
Spontaneous fun over any plan I've made
Enjoying the vitality of surprise over plan
Room for random over too tight an expectation
Letting life have its way over always my way
Appreciating the humor of the mess over taking it soooo seriously 

Life doesn't stay tidy for long anyway.
So when the control and order bug starts to make me say "no", I remember my decision to say yes to the mess for the life in it.















Monday, October 14, 2013

A BREAKTHROUGH IS JUST ONE MOMENT OF A PROCESS




A breakthrough is a sudden dramatic moment.
It is exhilarating
Miraculous.
Exciting
And, in some way, a big relief.

Why relief?
Because there is a before and after to a breakthrough moment or event.
Before breakthrough, pressure has been building for a long time or it wouldn't be a breakthrough.
The pressure of vision, hard work, hope, belief, endurance and incredible resilience.
The pressure of seeing the breakthrough moment, wanting it and not having it.
Tolerating the tension of what is and what could be.

Several of my loved ones have just had breakthrough moments.
One, husband, just finished the last draft of a book he has been working on for at least five years.  (YES you will hear more about it)
It was a lovely moment to see him hold the physical draft in his hands.
He was buoyant for two days.

Then came the second half of a breakthrough moment.
The new moment becomes daily reality --the new normal.
The awareness of new labor to come dawns.
Second guessing the breakthrough follows.
The miraculous becomes mundane.

So when you experience a breakthrough wallow in it for a while.
Enjoy that something new has happened.
Work will always be, so why not work on something wonderful and new?






Monday, October 7, 2013

I WONDER IF I'LL LET MYSELF BE OLD WHEN I AM



I have said some variation of that sentence to several people this week  and have gotten the same reaction.
Somewhere between shock and repulsion.
I said the forbidden word.
OLD.  "When I am OLD not older or mature or seasoned--OLD

I  triggered a cultural taboo.  
I could have said some truly awful words and gotten a less strong reaction.

I was talking to a wide range of people too.  Adult children, a long term friend, a new friend, my husband, a client! 
It wasn't just that they didn't want me to get old.  I can so understand  that. Especially with kids.  I didn't think my parents were old even when they had died for Pete's sake.  Still don't.

No, the reaction was more that old was a very very bad thing to become.
Terrifying.  Absolutely to be avoided.
A reality that could be ignored if never spoken or brought to a conscious level.
A giant cultural contract.   Shhhh.  We don't do old.

After the strong reaction to the word OLD, came a bunch of conversations about the definitions of age, of retirement, of middle-age, of maturity of health even of youth.  "It all depends on what 'old' means. Do you mean 'old' physically or mentally."  All words used to tap dance away from the fact that OLD exists. 

No, I'm not old yet.  But I want to be when I am.  And I can see the horizon of old.  But no wonder no one wants to be old in the U.S.  where aging means being devalued and invisible or even worse--generic.  And hard to look at.  A reminder of frailty.  

Maybe I can be old better in Mexico where we live part of the year, where older people are loved and fussed over because they are revered (and also kind of treated like cute  babies -- at least the fuss is the same)  and never ever ever left alone. Eve. Los viejos are cared for--bathed, fed, petted and held.  

Actually, I'm thinking of something more magnificent when it comes to "old".  Jung and Erickson  talked about the development stages of a life--infancy, childhood, adolescence, adulthood, middle adulthood and maturity followed by death.  We in the American culture tend to skip over the very last stage. We  pump up our middle life and keep recharging it until we drop (or are dropped)  "dead".  Battery kaput.

But the last stage of a long life should be distinct and lived fully.  It is  a time  of  shedding of material burden and care--a culling.  It should be one of comfort and simplicity.  It should be a time of formal acknowledgement of wisdom gained.  Time to tell the story of a life. There should be a ritual for entering "oldness".  The ritual should burnish the life, make it glow a little.  There should be a ritual  somewhere between a birthday and a wedding. The honored person would breath a sigh of relief to enter the time of life to only "be".  Doing is done.  The elder is  carried on the esteem of family and friends and culture.  Old would not be defined by physical deterioration but by a new stage of life--celebration and liberation.

I am laughing.  I just shared this thought with my husband whose visceral response was like that of  a hot potato to be dropped as fast as possible.
"Will you order the casket too?" he said.  He was appalled at the idea of relishing oldness.  I liked what he said next though.  "I'm at the stage where my age is none of my business." 

 Wisdom or denial?