"The Cold Cream Conundrum"

The other day, my youngest stopped in to pay me a visit. It's always wonderful when the kids drop by. Today, though, it turned into a visit that sparked a deep soul search within me.

When my daughter dropped in, I was in the middle of an exhaustive search for the most definitive comparison of eye cream that I could find. You see, earlier that day, I would be found standing in the middle of the face cream isle at our local WalMart. I was reading label after label of foreign sounding ingredients and well worded promises to make me look like I had just sipped from the proverbial Fountain of Youth. Some products were reasonably priced, some others, seriously, how much does one need to spend for eternal youth and beauty!! Of course in my mind, if it doesn't cost as much as the national debt, then, it must not work, right? Recently, I had actually tried a fancy prescription face cream recommended by a dermatologist co worker. Well, I can say that I felt it did tighten up the saggy jowls a bit. The bags under the eyes weren't quite so, and it did seem that those pesky crow's feet and frown lines were a little less noticeable. But then, I went to the pharmacy to inquire about the cost. Now there's some shocking news!! Really, I now know how much one needs to spend for eternal youth and beauty. WOW!!

So, back to my visit with my daughter and the definitive comparison search on the old eye cream. After listening to me krutz and complain for a while, my daughter finally said, “Mom, you spend so much of your time writing about the joys of getting older and how great it is. Isn't this kind of against what you stand for?” Kids these days, really the insolence of the lot of them!! But then again, “out of the mouths of babes” it came. My youngest has always been my best mirror. She is one who will call a spade a spade. She doesn't let me run away from my self too often. And, in this instance, she had me completely boxed in.

So, what is it about all of this that is so unnerving? Why do we feel like we have to cream, needle, stretch and sew our true selves away? Why can't we look in the mirror everyday and rejoice in the wisdom and beauty that life's artistry has bestowed upon us? I remember a few years back, when I was in training for a mind body exercise program I teach. There was a woman in my class, Dotty. She was the quintessential earth mother. She was older than the rest of us by more than a bit. She had long silver hair, her face bore the markings of a life well lived. She made no excuses for her thoughts, her style, her self. She was an intuitive healer. In the week I spent with her, she gave each of us girls what we needed, when we needed it. She nursed us all that week, with the grace and knowledge that only her living could teach. She was so at ease and comfortable with her self, it was magnificent. I remember during one point in our training, we were to move to the music's calling. I looked at her, but she wasn't moving at all. Instead, she stood still, eyes closed, head tipped up, hands raised, the music called to her to rejoice in it, to worship it. By not moving, she moved in ways so ethereal and magical it cannot be put into words. This, my friends, only comes from living, and the acceptance of it. Glory to life in all of it's splendor. Even now, this image is so powerful to me.

So, back to my daughter's question, it's a hard one to answer. Yes, putting ridiculously priced beauty products on my face to try to turn back the hands of time is against what I stand for. But, what is so scary about letting all this be? My hubby says, I don't need these things. Bless his loving heart (course it could be his way of telling me that I should spend my money on more sound investments too). Either way, it's common sense. But common sense doesn't make one feel more secure about themselves in a world that is ruled by youth and beauty.

Oh that could be a whole other story........It's scary to know that you are getting older, showing older, feeling older. But, as I have mentioned, we don't get older, we “season to perfection”. So, maybe, instead of looking in the mirror and seeing the frown lines, the crapey skin, the bags under my eyes, I should see, the laugh lines from years of joy and smiles, the face that has changed to become more and more like my mother's (she is a very pretty woman, as she enters her 78^th year), the bags under the eyes, well they are there because of late nights with my girls, snuggling and rocking them to sleep in the wee hours, they are there because of sitting up late and talking with my beloved because we enjoy each others company and comfort, not wanting to say good night. The reflection in the mirror is my story written right there in front of my eyes. I will choose to honor my story............

Now, will I never buy fancy beauty products, or will I never dye my hair again? That remains to be seen. I know now that I am not willing to spend a small fortune to turn back the hands of time, and I'm OK with that. I will buy my usual product, it works well enough, and it will suffice. I do buy a box of hair color every 6 weeks or so. It's a tiny investment in my vanity to be sure.

It's scary to grow old in this world, but, I am brave, and I am so much more than what is on the surface. A little fluffing of the feathers with a healthy dose of common sense and self love isn't a bad thing. So, in keeping with “seasoning to perfection”, we all can add a little flavor of our choosing from time to time. In the end, we will be delicious. Just remember, too much flavor, and the result can be a loss of the true original recipe.....

"One Heart, One Mind, Many Souls........And a Rumble"

Today I had the honor of observing the coming together of souls of different minds and unique outlooks. There were opinions, beliefs, and convictions from many view points. There was talk of God, of those departed, of hope and of healing. There were welcoming wishes and thanks of participation in the event that we were attending.

Now this was not a huge event per say, not in the sense of sheer numbers. But, I am sure to the one organizing it, it was monumental, and he did an amazing job. I heard one person quip at the pre ride event, “a motorcycle rally to raise funds for a Christian memorial? Hummmm, not sure about that one”.

Yes this was a motorcycle rally. We came together to raise money in memory of a chaplain who was killed in active duty. We came together to honor his legacy, to support his wife and children, to supply those in active duty, and to start a scholarship for future students who receive the gift of this calling. And, it was the chancellor of the university who mentioned, with a chuckle, that he was a bit skeptical. And, who wouldn't be, we were quite the lot.

As I mentioned earlier, there were souls of many dimensions here. Take my hubby and my self. We consider ourselves christian people. We don't go to church but we do try to conduct our lives with love and openness, live and let live, give a helping hand to those who need it, don't judge others as we have our quirks too. There were many there who had strong convictions and beliefs in their greater power. And, while there wasn't much talk directly about the subject of Christianity and religion, the feeling of oneness with all of us was so strong it was palpable.

After a short prayer for our safety, we all suited up and got ready to ride. This was the first ride for this annual fundraiser, so of course, a picture was in order. After that, it was a police escort out of the parking lot and away we went. There is no way you cannot be moved by the sound of rolling thunder and the look of bike after shiny bike cruising by you. Many cars that were stopped had their arms out the windows with their hands in the air. For this moment everyone, regardless of why or how or who, was united.

Maybe not for our cause, but that didn't matter, it was the joining of souls for a moment, all enjoying the spectacle, all being able to relate to the same wonder. This is the magic of coming together. In this moment, you could feel the calm and the security of the universe being in balance, at least in our corner of it.........

I have always enjoyed sharing of thoughts and beliefs and I have had the profound honor of talking with many regarding theirs. And, for the most part, these conversations have been easy and laid back. Oh, every so often I meet someone who is hell bent to change my mind. I take a deep breath and bless them in my own way for their convictions. Even these trading of thoughts are an important learning time.

Religions aside, I am struck by the similarities of groups coming together for the greater good, whatever that good may be. There are the international groups such as the Red Cross, or there is the corner lemonade stand that is being run by an entrepreneurial child wanting to raise money for a most worthy cause. And, trust me, when a child is running a lemonade stand, and you are riding a motorcycle, its an unwritten rule that you must stop and support their cause. Plus, hey how cool is it to have a biker stop for a sip of lemonade at your stand!!! Wow!!! It doesn't matter what the cause or how many are involved in the process, all that matters is that we humans are concentrating our efforts toward making our corner of the world a better place. As we rode the route put forth by our ride organizer, from my vantage point atop the back seat of our Harley, I couldn't help but be awestruck by the incredible beauty around me. Yes we had ridden many of these roads before, but what was different is we were traveling it with our brothers and sisters all toward a common goal. One heart, one mind, many souls.........and a rumble!!

I sometimes worry about the world. It's ugly out there!! So much tragedy, and natural disaster, and humans who have lost touch with any form of genteel reality. One can't help thinking that any day now, we are going to implode, and for the most part, we as a human race, have asked for it. But then today, as I rode through the countryside, I realize that there is hope for us. Our small

little band of brothers and sisters, riding in concert for our cause, are on any given day, joined by many other spirits, all giving for their greater good. The ugly shouts at us, from our televisions, from the newspapers, from our radios, but if we sit still on a quiet evening, we can sense the hum of our unified souls, all working as one to pull this tired, old world back together again.

This too is palpable. Now what we need to do is to tap into that hum and make it grow to a glorifying anthem of unity and hope.

It doesn't matter what cause you support, and it doesn't matter who your higher power is, but what does matter is that you go out and share your passion and your cause and bring other souls together for the greater good. The more positive emotion we have in this world, the better off we will be in the future. The time to turn our world around is now, and it will take all of us to do it. Ride, march, swim, run, sing, jump, dance, pray, sit together in the park and meditate. Be a group of one heart, one mind, many souls. Feel the power of the whole as you come together for a common cause. Whatever you choose, add your cords to the anthem of our world......make your own happy noise, you don't have to ride a motorcycle to make a rumble..................

"Perspective"

Perspective.......it's an interesting word. Come to think of it, it is a very enigmatic word, hard to define. Reason being, the word itself has many different meanings, um well, depending on your “perspective”:

per·spec·tive

noun /pərˈspektiv/ perspectives, plural The art of drawing solid objects on a two-dimensional surface so as to give the right impression of their height, width, depth, and position in relation to each other when viewed from a particular point A picture drawn in such a way, esp. one appearing to enlarge or extend the actual space, or to give the effect of distance A view or prospect The relation of two figures in the same plane, such that pairs of corresponding points lie on concurrent lines, and corresponding lines meet in collinear points A particular attitude toward or way of regarding something; a point of view True understanding of the relative importance of things; a sense of proportion An apparent spatial distribution in perceived sound

Now that you've read all of the definitions of perspective, my bent in this thread is more to the definitions of attitude and view point. It came to me the other day, as I was having a wonderful lunch with an old and dear friend, that we are in the perfect place in our lives, as we season to perfection, to have the best vantage point for perspective.

To have the best view of everything tangible around us, we would need to be on the crest of a hill. From that crest, we can see all around us. We can see the valleys and vistas we have traveled through. When we hike through the wilderness, we remember as we stand on that hill, the moments we were taken in awe of our surroundings. We recall the beauty of the tall trees, the sun streaming through the leaves and branches, making us feel small and protected. We think about the rocky ledge that we had to navigate to get to the wonderful views on the other side. We were scared, but resolute in our journey. We made it through and were rewarded for the perseverance by the beauty of it all. Then as we rest a bit, we look forward to the path we are about to take. We can see much in the distance, but it is somewhat obscure. The solid details are not clear, it is somewhat of a mystery. Oh we know the general direction we will travel, and we can see it a bit down the path, but around that first bend, we do not know from there. So, as you scan the horizon, you choose a path to follow, and you start down that hill, toward...........who really knows. That's the fun of it........

The perspective of which I speak, is being in the middle of our lives, the top of the hill as it were, and looking to where we have come and where we are about to go. From atop the crest, we can reflect on past and contemplate future.

Perspective is an enigmatic word, hard to define. Perspective changes as we change, as our knowledge base grows, as we weather the storm, or celebrate the victories of our lives, our perspective adjusts accordingly. Think about what you perceived as important when you were 20, 30, now, 50ish. Your conception of what meant the most to you has evolved, hasn't it? Once it was fashion, then it became commitment to build a life with someone, then it was protection for your children, home, and husband, then..........well, you can fill in the blanks from here. Our views on the world changed, our relationships changed, our opinions of our selves changed, sometimes to the good, sometimes not. This is almost a cocoon like transformation from then to now. We start as these crawling creatures barely able to see beyond our nose on the ground, to these wonderful winged beings who can soar above the earth to see and appreciate all the majesty around us.

So here we are, on the “top of the hill” of our lives. What an amazing place to be, and what a view!!! With all of the knowledge and knowing that we have accumulated in the journey this far, we can look back, as we stand on this hill, and be honored by our selves. Our resilience, our dedication, our perseverance to our commitments and goals. We have accomplished so much in our lives thus far. Really, take this moment to think about it, and when you have, you will feel a pride so profound in the knowing of the path you have traveled. So, with this pride, stand on the hill, in the bright sun, tilt your face to the sky and let the warmth sink into your soul. Open your arms and welcome all that the earth and your heart have to give, rejoice in all that is truly “You”. Give a little “Woo Hoo” if your being is free to do so. You have made it this far!!! Oh yes, to be sure, the road was winding at times. There were storms and much rain, sorrow, yes for sure. But, you are here, now, with all that you are, right here.

Now, look down that hill................Yes you can see the first bit of the path, but around that first bend, we do not know from there. But, what we do know, is in our perspective!This is the gift of time and knowing, of weathering the storm, and celebration. We have lived though so much and so many, that our perspective couldn't be any more fine tuned than it is right now. We have amassed a magnificent library of facts and experiences that will help us to choose the path and put clarity in our world that we just didn't have before. When you visit the stops along the path of your choosing now, you will see them and experience their gifts with a new found understanding. Traveling the path from this moment on, will be so much more fulfilling and rich, because we have perspective. We know what to fret about and what to let slide, we have been there and done that.......perspective. We know now which rocky ledges to wander on to, and which will just give us grief and sorrow if we should continue there.......perspective. We know now that just because the journey isn't mapped out specifically for us to see, we end up exactly where we are supposed to be...............perspective.

Gaining perspective is like moving through our lives, gathering pieces of the puzzle along the way. As we acquire more pieces, we hone the skills of looking at a situation with a multidimensional viewpoint. As more of the pieces fit, life begins to make sense. Not in the way that every good and bad thing that ever happens makes sense. But in the way that we can take a moment to ponder the situation in front of us, and be able to apply our knowledge, our puzzle pieces, and arrange them in a way that we now know is right to us. Our path may not be right for someone else, it is only right for us, and that is OK. Perspective is personal.

So, as I stand with you, on the crest of the hill, I look with you, back on the journey we all have taken to this place in our lives. We all stand here, with our puzzles pieces tucked securely in our hearts, and we look forward, down the path. We have the gift of the past, present, and future, and we have the perspective to make the most from it all. Oh what wonderful experiences lay before us, just around that first bend...................................

"The Brood Comes Home - Part Two"

It makes sense when the bird from the south flies home, the chickadee from just a couple miles north east of us comes home to the nest too. It's great to have both my girls together. This was a quick trip home by all, but it was enjoyable all the same.

We went out for dinner last night. We always have so much fun going out to dinner. We all sit around and gab about this and that, then pretty soon, the silliness starts and away we go, giggling and laughing, trying to keep it down so we don't disrupt all the proper folk taking their nourishment around us. We remember the dinners at The Cracker Barrel, Ponderosa, and oh my heaven's all those meals at Culvers. I swear we covered the whole spectrum of topics in that restaurant. Great memories.

So last night, things were decidedly different. Oh we still had a great time, still had loads of laughs, but something about the dynamic of all of this was very changed. I will try to explain.......I sense another long and winding road here I'm afraid..............

Now, you remember in my last story, I spoke of the magnet on my refrigerator, the one that says “Put away your dreams for your children, and help them with their own”? Well my youngest daughter (the chickadee from just north east of here) followed her dreams all the way to a Masters in Social Work (since I finished high school that that was that, I am in awe of my children's upper educations). During her achievement of this daunting task, she opened group homes, managed all manner of staff and residents, and graduated with a stellar grade point average. Her final presentation was a theory paper on treating trauma, focusing on people with developmental disabilities, using a variety of methods as it pertains to ones developmental level. Her theories and practices are in use state wide, and may go national. Talk about the realization of a dream. During her formative years, she had her struggles and was told often not to reach too high, least she be disappointed. I reminded her that knowledge is more than what happens in four walls, and that she can reach as far as her imagination will take her. She is amazing.........this world is so much better thanks to her and her passions. I went to an open house at one of her newly opened group homes. I looked around for a bit, and chatted with folks there. Being her mom that day was an honor. I was humbled to hear strangers tell me of the importance my daughter has in their lives. It was a profoundly proud moment for me, because of her.

To say both my daughters “know their stuff” is a gigantic understatement.

So, back to the dinner table. We sit down and get our drinks. I instantly feel as old as I ever have because, are you ready for it, NEITHER of my girls get carded!! I am the mother of two women who appear of drinking age and better. I have always felt a smug sense of youth every time we go out, someone always cards my girls. It makes ME feel young. I've been cheated!! The nerve of that waitress. She should know that my fragile ego required her to ask!! Her tip will be seriously affected by this I tell you!!

Anyway, I get over it (sort of.......geez!!) and we start to chat, lots of fun topics are tossed about. Then my two girls find some common ground. They discuss professional philosophy and ethics. They chat about the difference facets of their respective career choices. All I can do is sit dumb founded at the intelligence of the conversation that is revolving around me.

Who are these two and where did they get this stuff? When did they grow up to become these extremely competent human beings? I can't even join in the conversation as I have nothing to add. Their topics are so above me. I do enjoy learning from them though. Funny how the tables have turned, we used to sit around the table and they would ask me questions about the meaning of life and love and I would expound my theories to them. After all, I am the mom, the all knowing........Look at me now, I can't even formulate an intelligent enough question to join in the chat my daughters are having. This isn't a bad thing. This blows my mind...............

As I sit in between the two of them, my eyes swinging back and forth between them, a saying I once heard came to mind. Loosely quoted, “Your children are not yours, they are given to you by God to borrow only for a little while”. As much as we like to take credit for the paths our children walk, that path was set forth long before we meet them on that special day and hold them in our arms. The Good Lord above needs us to take care of them and raise them to the best of our ability until they are ready to put their feet on the path that was pre-ordained especially for them. That is the only theory to this mom that makes sense. I raised them to the best of my ability, which at times was lack luster at best. If their present state was in direct correlation to my clumsy mothering, they definitely wouldn't be in this life as they are now. There must be a higher power who knows so much more and plants that magic seed of the dream. We water and cultivate this seed with support, understanding, compassion and praise. Our harvest is the profound pride we feel when we watch our children walk the path that is truly theirs.

Now it is pretty clear that these children, my children, are on their paths, they are still “mine” in one sense, but they are their own now, by their right and earning. I will always be there for them, cheering them on and supporting whatever dreams they choose. They will always be there for me, supporting me in my dreams. Even though, they have to admit most times, my dreams are just plain weird to them. But, they remember that I have been their dream champion, so they smile, and shake their heads I'm sure, but they cheer me on too.

Now they are starting to giggle about some crazy comment or other, and I am brought out of the cloud of my musings and transported back in time to Culvers for a moment, me and my girls, shushing each other, trying our best at decorum and failing miserably. I smile, these dinner talks are becoming fewer and further between, but are so very special when we are all together; chatting, learning, puzzling, and just plain being goofy.

When the brood comes home, it's a mixture of happy and sad, busy ness and exhaustion, sharing and caring. But, it's a time that I look forward to more than I could ever put into words, and when it's over, it's a feeling so painful that I can barely stand to feel it. Then the news comes one day, “We're coming home!!”. And the excitement is there again, having forgot, temporarily anyway, the pain. Is this the same emotional phenomenon that allows us to propagate our human race? We visit the doctor one day and hear those wonderful words, “You will be bringing a little one home”. When the day comes, the pain can't quite be put into words and we swear as we are in the throws of it, that we will NEVER do this again. Then some time down the road, we are bringing another little one home. The excitement is there again, the pain is forgotten, again.  It makes sense to me.

The beginning...........is just............the beginning.

"The Brood Comes Home"

It's that special time of the year, one I always anticipate with much happiness and excitement. My oldest daughter and her hubby are coming home for a visit.

You see, long ago and far away, in a land very different than this is right now, my oldest daughter watched a movie. It was a normal day in a normal life, and we just decided to watch a movie. What bad could come of this you would ask? Oh gentle reader, do not be lulled into a sense of peace and calm, with visions of popcorn and snuggle blankets dancing in your head. This innocent act, of "just watching a movie", changed my life and my daughter's forever!!

What movie could possibily have that kind of affect on one's life. It was Apollo 13. A well written docu-movie about the ill fated Apollo 13 mission, the successful failure, I believe it was called. They headed for the moon, something went boom, then they had to take a right turn and head for home. After many meetings of the minds in launch control, they splashed down, safe and somewhat sound. A good movie......to my daughter, a great movie, one that sparked an interest in the space program and all things star like that she continues to thrive in even today, and I believe, for many years to come.

I have a magnet on my refrigerator that I have had for a looonnnnggg time. It says "Put away your dreams for your children, and help them with their own". Profound, yes, easy to do, well that is another package of dehydrated space food (don't like cans of worms, blech!!). My daughter, she became this walking, breathing stack of books. Ask her anything about the Apollo 13 space mission, she'll tell you!! And she did..........a lot..........did I say a lot............I meant......A LOT!! OK, she was really interested in this stuff. So, the logical thing to do is to send her to space camp. Mistake #2. (what, oh first mistake was letting her watch the damn movie...). To sum up this preamble; many trips to space camp later, fast forward a few years, and my daughter and her husband are 2 very intrical associates of US Space and Rocket Center in Huntsville Alabama. There you have it, help them with their own dreams and you can say bye bye to them as they move 800 miles away from you...........Geez, ain't that a kick in the flight suit.

Seriously though, I am very proud of my daughter and what she has accomplished in her lifetime. It is a proud moment to watch your child achieve that which they set their minds (and dreams) too. So that brings us back to where I started (wow that was a long and winding road). It's that special time of the year, one I always anticipate with much happiness and excitement. My oldest daughter and her hubby are coming home for a visit.

As I prepare my menus, house work schedule, trips and treats, it hits me that this is my daughter and her hubby coming, not the Queen of England (although I am sure at some point in her life she thought she was...tee hee), so why am I pulling out all the stops and setting forth this great production because she is coming for a visit. I want the house clean, the dogs well trained, the food delicous and reminiscent of what she used to eat when she was here under my wing. I want her to be able to go all the places she did when she lived here and I want to hang with her as she travels down her memory lane. Geez this is a big deal.

I seem to recall that my mom does the same thing. She too has helped me with my own dreams, which landed me 800 miles away from her. Hummm, seems to run in the family, this trapsing far away from home. Mom is always asking what I would like to eat, where I would like to visit, if there is anyone with whom I would like to spend time with. And, be sure, the dust bunnies quake in fear before we stop in. It is a big deal when the brood comes home.

I think this is a capture of the nesting instinct we had when we were awaiting the arrival of our said bundles of joy. As we padded our nest for the coming of our child, we now fluff the feathers of the nest, making home a welcoming place for our brood to return. In a way, the excitement is just about as palpable. The welcome difference is that we don't need to head to the hospital and face many and suntry indignities and an assortment of drugs to kill the pain to have this welcome reunion. Although, I have to admit, as I scrub my tub and vacuum the stairs, that the physical energy taken to complete these tasks for arrival, can be just as exhausting.............but also just as welcome...................

It is such a wonderful feeling as they walk in the door, almost like they have done so yesterday. But, it feels like a long time since then too. You give big hugs and kisses and exchanges of greetings. You feel the momentary weight of time as it has passed, and there is a bittersweetness that you sink into for just a moment. The coming home of the brood is the realization of how quickly this time to last time has gone, but also the realization of how quickly this time to leaving will go. You can't stop it, you can't slow it down. But, to be in the moment and enjoy it is the only way you can be. So, you snap out of it, and smile and hug her one more time. You will make the most of this space, this place in your life. You can pretend for just a little while, that she is home and will never leave. As she comes and goes, and you do whatever you do together, it will feel like it did in the days gone by. What sweetness!!

The time will come all too soon, when she will leave again. You'll see that look in her eye, the one that tells you, yes she will miss you, but her life is waiting, at her home, for her. She needs to go there and live it. Again, you put away your dreams and help her with her own. You smile and say how wonderful it was to see her, and you make plans for doing this again soon..............time will pass quickly, and you'll all be together again.

For the moment though, you will live in that icky grey between place. After they drive away, you walk back into the house, it's deathly quiet and the place echoes. You can see the empty dishes and wet towels that were just in use. Just moments ago. Time needs to pass, the universe will make sense again in a little while, but right now, it feels like said universe has just given you a wedgie. And, you're in a crowded room, no way to fix it. Just gotta deal with it......

***I gratefully acknowlege my wonderful son in law, Ed, who helped me get the words and directions correct in relation to areospace references***

"Memories"

Do you ever get those days when it feels like you are walking through a long forgotten time? You will hear a song on the radio or you will see an article of clothing while you are shopping, now coming back into style, and suddenly you pass back in time.

Personally I think it's a groovy feeling. Sort of tingly and floaty. It makes me feel warm, and calm, like I'm about to watch one of my favorite movies. You know, the ones that you save for days that you need a little self love and care, you pop it in your player and sit back, with a beverage in hand, snuggled in your favorite blanket (mine is a Winnie the Pooh fleece tie blanket my girls gave me long ago). You let the movie transport you somewhere else and forget about whatever the world has you in the middle of for the moment.

I find I get this feeling a lot when I'm sitting by the fire with my husband and we are sipping wine and listening to the 70's music channel. Although hubby is a bit older than I am, we realized that our past cosmic journeys had come together in the early 70's. We sing to the music, we reminisce about the times and places we were. And the crazy things we did, as we take our mutual trips down memory lane. It is a learning time for us. Since we came to be one late in our lives, we have much of our past that we don't know about. Funny, as we share, how the big picture comes together. My soul mate was quite the free spirit in his day. All in all though, he always had a respect for, and love of, family, honor, and integrity. The past supports the present and teaches us what is to become the future.

I guess I am now old enough to have a past to look back on. Sure we retain our memories from however far our minds can remember. There is always good and bad times that we reflect on. These times shape us and bring us to who we are today. But, I think there needs to be a certain time passage that happens before we really can appreciate how profound those memories can be. Memories can be pretty poignant and somewhat unsettling without the perspective of time passed to give it relevance. Sure, we have all done some dumb things in our youth and young adulthood, present company included. But, once we get a bit more seasoned in our journey, we can look back on these phases of moulting and know that they were just that. It is the sloughing off of one life as we transition on to another.

This is a good thing, let me explain...... I can't count the number of times and places this has occurred to me lately. I am at middle point in my journey to being fully seasoned. So much of life that was out of focus before, is in perfect clarity now. Sometimes I wondered about why that was. I used to look back on my life and at times, just cringe at the crazy, stupid, insensitive, downright rude things I did. I also think about the mall bangs, the tight clothes, the outlandish colors and styles that I once cherished......E gads!! Yes I really had my moments. But, what I have now found, is instead of cringing when I remember, I reflect. Why, because all of that silliness has brought me to the magnificence that I am now. Every garish color, every dumb dumb moment, and every forbidden embrace, contributed to who I am today.

Now, some of what I have done truly was a mistake. It hurt people I loved, and it stained me too. These are the memories that I would rather forget, they make my stomach turn just a bit. But, they are part of my whole. For the yin and the yang of it, they also have shaped me and brought me here. I now look upon them as unpleasant static noise in the harmonic music of my life. The static plays an important roll. It serves to remind me somatically what ingredients in my seasoning to leave out for the betterment of my life and my journey. So, they too have their place. I pass over those times and go on to the warm remembrances of past loves, past lives, and future dreams. These times in my past serve to remind me how wonderful and magical it is to be where I am today. I have learned oh so much........My soul mate and I have a bond so deep, something I never could imagine feeling. I believe that I wouldn't know how special this man is, had I not experienced some of the static that I had. He too has had his share; the healing and learning from that has born to us this life. I treasure my children and my life because I know there were times when I came close to loosing both. I treasure my friends and my acquaintances as now I know what true connections are. A knowledge realized by being in the company of those not well suited for who I was, only I didn't know “who I am” at that time.

Just this morning, I was listening to the 70's music channel, and my favorite song began to play, the song that helped me realize my husband was to be my soul mate, Wild Flower, by Skylark. It is one of those songs, you know the kind, that was written just for you. The kind that reaches deep down into your core and is written using your soul's words. I promised myself, after a very dark time in my life, that I would only love again if I could find a man who understood, organically, what that song meant to me. I did find him, or rather, he found me. He picked me up and turned me from what could have been a very destructive time in my life. I owe him more than words can ever say.

So, once again, as I pen this thread, I find myself stopping to remember. I feel that warmth sink into me as I smile and reminisce. I take joy in my past, I also have learned to put what was not so pleasant in it's rightful place, and to forgive my thoughtless mistaken ways. This is my journey to whole ness, to acceptance, and to the ultimate in self love. Memories are wonderful places we go to visit, to remind ourselves of who we were, and how far we have come, and what lays ahead. Embrace these journeys dear heart, don't run from them. Our past is ourselves, a process to becoming what we are and will be. We are seasoning to perfection, and these are the ingredients of making it happen. Settle into the comfort of these thoughts, rest into the journey of it all. Close your eyes and let your mind's eye replay your life reel. Take in a deep breath of contentment. Because, when you open your eyes again, you will be here, in the present. You will know how full your basket is and how far you have come..................and you will smile..........................the smile of knowing

"The Evolution of Mothering"

We have all said it sooner or later, "My Gosh, I'm turning into my mother!" This statement could have been prompted by a look in the mirror, a spoken word, something that we thought of, or didn't. Whatever the catalyst, this exclamation is often looked upon as a bad thing.

Most of us will look back on our mothers mothering with mixed emotion. There will be the comforting times we remember when we scraped our knee and she knew exactly how to make the boo boo better. We remember staying home sick from school and having that special honor of the bed lovingly made on the couch, complete with chicken soup and kisses on the forehead. Little did we know, those kisses were of dual purpose, one part love and one part high tech diagnostics. (Clever moms we have). Remember when we didn't win the spelling bee, or we didn't place on the volleyball team, or when our hearts were broken for the first time? Who was always there, with just the right words, the perfect comfort food, and the most understanding ear....Yep that would be our mom. She always made everything OK again, in her special mothering way.

Well, then there are those times, usually when we were just a bit older, where the mixed emotion comes in. We wanted to wear the micro mini skirt with the mid drift top but our Mom (say Mom sarcastically in a long drawn out, whiny kind of nasal voice…… you get the picture) said, "No this is not appropriate, you’re not old enough." And, we proved it, by throwing the expected temper tantrum and stomping around demanding that we, yes we who are acting like a two year old, are more than old enough to wear this kind of clothing. EVERYBODY else does!! Sound familiar. From this moment forward, for the next several years anyway, our mothers and our selves engage in the battle of will and decorum. This starts the love/eye roll portion of our relationship.

Time goes on, battles are won and lost, we grow up, we leave the nest; we create our own lives. Nurtured and loved, supported and bolstered; in spite of the fact that we never would admit mom was always there and we really needed her. We step out into this world, secure in our ability to survive it, thanks to...........Yep mom again.

As a mother myself, at that time of independence it always amazes me to find there is so much pain and empty ness. You would think after all that dedication, emotion, and love, one would welcome the rest. But instead we watch our babes walk away from us, and silently berate ourselves. We did such a wonderful job supporting them (and fighting them) while they became free thinking, strong human beings, yet they couldn't wait to leave us. Huh…..where's the gratitude there, right?

We get married (or not) and we have children (or not) but whatever road we travel, we think we know it all. We are educated, mature (we think), and have all the answers. We find jobs and partners; we find our likes, dislikes, passions, and convictions. During this part of our journey, we share all we know with our mothers, hoping to enlighten them so that they aren’t living in the dark ages any more. Sure they did what they could with what they know when they raised us. But, we know so much more, and we can’t wait to share. Moms are great listeners. They listen to our views on life, love, children and politics. They are patient and supportive. We, in turn, listen to them chat about the bowling team, planting flowers, the red hat club, and what they had for lunch at the deli on the corner after a round of golf. We think, how nice and how boring…… We still feel like we are just so much more than our mothers. After all we are the new and improved model, are we not?

What we are too enlightened to figure out is exactly that. We are the new and improved model. But, it is our mothers love, guidance, and teaching that we are improving upon. If not for our humble beginnings at the knee of our mothers, our selves would not be where we are today.

Now it has taken this author a while to figure this out. I spent many a conversation with my mother at opposite sides of the proverbial arena. Me talking, trying to persuade her to my line of thinking, her on her side, just trying to figure out where the hell I got that idea from in the first place. But, trying her best not to squelch whatever motivation I felt for the topic at hand. It seemed for a long time that we were at opposite sides of said arena. I call it the arena to conjure up the image of battle and competition, because it does seem like that for a while. We were two strong gladiators, swinging swords in defense of our convictions.

Well, thank the good Lord above, for clarity and common sense. Albeit usually coming later than sooner. One day it hit me, my mother and I, we are of the same thoughts, same goals, same journey; we just travel in different lanes of the same highway. First mom traveled in front, leading by the examples of her mother, she went through all the same trial and angst with her mom as I did with her, be certain of that. She became the new and improved model. In showing us love and compassion, we became strong and pulled out in front. For a while, we led, using the fuel from our upbringing, and adding to it the knowledge of our own unique experiences, we became the new model. In time, we came to travel side by side. Our journey is slower and more relaxed, she the vintage model, me, next year’s best buy. Both sharing the road, each making our own interpretation of the map; wisdom of the old and of the new. It becomes a journey of enjoyment and empathy, and understanding, and realizing.

Yes, there comes a day when you will realize that your mother is wise indeed. She has more knowledge than you ever gave her credit for, until now. Now, listening to the stories of her relatives, her mom, sisters, old flames, becomes a time of respect and admiration. You are now old enough, mature enough, to be able to say, "I don’t know it all". I need to learn and grow, and listen to my mother. We are the new and improved model, so is she, and her mother before her.

Mothering is evolution at its best. Mothers for centuries have loved and nurtured their daughters, only to have them leave for their lives and become these "tweens" caught ‘twixed childhood and "wow, mom really does know what she’s talking about". Take heart, the day will come when this necessary phase is complete, and you too, will sit at your mothers knee again and enjoy that same comfort and love that you did when you were young. Only now, you will finally understand. Once again, you will say, "My Gosh, I’m turning into my mother!" And you will feel a swell of pride that only evolution brings.

"Rage Against the Menopausal Machine"

OK, I can breathe again............Just got done with my yearly mammogram. Oh yes, you ladies know what I am talking about. The dreaded event that comes around every year about this time, usually accompanied by the indignant obligatory poke and prod. We all know these activities are important to our womanly health, and we go, and present body parts to be scrutinized. All part of being a woman they say.......(if I ever find out who "they" is I'm gonna kick their butt...........)

Today, as I sat in the mammogram room, awaiting my results, I made the decision to write about this exact moment in time. There I was, dressed in my thin green gown, pacing the floor, waiting for my "good luck charm" Betsy to come back to the room and say, "Ok, you're all done for another year" (I always call Betsy my good luck charm, she seems to do my test every year. Silly, I know). As I stopped my incessant pacing for a moment, I looked in the mirror. Now, my complexion has always been somewhat, OK. I have the wonderful (NOT) brown spots from sun and time, a few wrinkles, a little saggy here and there, but hey, all in all, not bad for someone of my "time". As I was saying, looking in the mirror, I see pimples ALL OVER!! And, not the cute little ones the young girls get, these are the kind that just spring to life overnight, and don't go away!! I look at a couple on my chin, and upon closer inspection, what do my wandering eyes should I see............but a few black whiskers perched defiantly next to said pimples.............What, am I in menopause, or puberty!!! SERIOUSLY!!

Betsy, my good luck charm, has just come back in the room and rescues me from my thoughts on this conundrum; "OK, you're all done for another year!" atta girl Betsy!! This brings me to where I began this thread, OK, now I can breathe again......

I was really never expecting any bad news, I come from good solid healthy genes (thanks Mom!!) and really can't say that I've ever had any problems per ce. But, one just never knows, when one is in menopause, your whole body feels like it's out to undermine everything that was ever good and positive about you and your body. It feels like some one or some thing has a voo doo doll in their back pocket and they are spending entirely too much time finding twisted ways to turn your life into some kind of freak show.

Really, think about it. I was once confident in my body. I exercised it, fed it well, dressed it nicely and it responded as it should, as I would expect. It would tighten up, tone up, and look not too shabby, thank you very much! Now, I could eat nothing but lettuce for a month and not lose an ounce. I could participate in boot camp classes until I can’t move, and still, the skin on my arms and legs flap like those goofy wing suits some of my hubby’s jump buddies would wear during his sky diving days. I buy fashion and fancy to adorn my miserable excuse of what was a great form, and it looks like something hanging on a clothes line, strung a bit loose I might add. My predictable body has become a frustrating puzzle. Uggghhhh.

I also had a pretty steady constitution. Nothing frazzled me. I worked in some pretty frantic jobs, and I’m a mother to boot. That in itself is not for the faint of heart. Now, I can’t find my hinny with both hands. Always forgetting even the smallest details, loosing my train of thought during conversations. One minute I am laughing hysterically, then I find myself ready to cry at the drop of a hat. My poor husband doesn’t know what direction to turn. Bless his heart as he tries to weigh his words as he forms a sentence to make sure it doesn’t evoke a stream of tears or tirade of venomous fuming. What he doesn’t know is that no matter what, he can never get it right, but I appreciate his efforts.

So my options………I talk with my trusted Gynecologist about all the different ways one can rage against the menopause machine. Many of them, depending on personal opinion, can have some not so wonderful side effects. You can expect everything from swollen "girls", to pimples, to water weight gain, to loss of hair, sleepiness, insomnia, lack of energy, too much energy, mood swings, irrational thoughts, and the list goes on. WOW, that makes me want to take this stuff. I could go "natural". Then I have to wait for months before the nuts and berries, and assorted forest offerings kicks in. Any woman who has been awaken several times a night swimming in a pool of sweat will tell you that is entirely too long!! Then we have the "do nothing and wait it out" option. Gee, that sounds like a good idea………it sends my hubby screaming into the night……can’t blame him. So, wear cotton pj’s, have a fan by the bed, ice water, no coffee, no alcohol (and who wants to make love feeling like a sweaty, weepy, blob of self pity……really?). When I wake up each morning, I feel like I should just make a blanket apology to the world for all of the bad karma I am going to spread as I crank my way through the day. Boy this is sounding better all the time. Being a woman in menopause is NOT for wimps. I know you feel me...................

Take heart my dear sisters, this too will pass and we will emerge victorious. I have heard this from several strong and wonderful women. One day we will wake up with the clarity and confidence of having won the battle. I know many women who I truly honor, they have grace and beauty and an inner glow that only comes from emergence from their menopausal cocoon. As I journey toward my own inner glow, one thing I know with solid conviction. A sense of humor is still the best medicine. Pair that with support from loving friends and family, and this whole process ain’t so bad after all. Give your self a break, we are woman…… and we are human….. we can laugh hysterically, cry a river, stomp and storm, or curl up and cuddle. Rage against the menopause machine with humor and personal compassion, and I’ll see you on the other side………we will be better for it!!



***Acknowledgement*** I want to thank my wonderful husband for being a living breathing thesaurus for me during the writing of this story. My menopause mush brain was kicking in, and for the life of me, I couldn't find the right words with a compass. He is my muse, and he has more wisdom than he will ever give himself credit for.......I love you...........

"Reflections on Purchase"

I was so excited today. There was a knock on the door, followed by the low rumble of the UPS truck pulling away from my house. "Ohhhh goodie", I exclaimed as I bounced down the stairs to retrieve my just delivered bounty.

I have gotten accustomed to placing internet orders for the cherished treasures that I covet. It used to be; I would jump into my car, and with tunes blaring, happily drive an hour or so for the instant gratification of the quick purchase. But now, I am finding a childlike, Christmas time anticipation in placing an order on line. Why take the time to drive to the mall, save money on the gas. Besides, I just don't feel that enthusiastic about going to all that trouble and time and energy..........and........Oh my God..........I am TOO TIRED to go shopping! What am I saying.........what does this mean...........When did this sentinel event in my life happen, to make me loose the excitement of going......TO THE MALL. I would rather sit in my place, with only a credit card and a mouse to keep me company, nary a word is spoken, I am alone and isolated, just me and my 'puter............how pathetic!!! How...........old.

I digress (……..seriously though…….. how pathetic). Anyway.............as I stood in my kitchen, unwrapping my wares, I got to thinking about how my taste in what I considered treasures has changed. In the 70’s, earrings that had feathers, and denim jeans, (the wider the leg of my pants the better), were THE items to have. In the 80’s, I was a young stay at home mother, so my guilty purchase was anything meager and motherly. The 90’s brought with it my single again life, so I was drawn toward dressing as a sexy, yet conservative, mature single mother. I have gone from bell bottoms to stretch denim, from cotton to leather (and back...thank the heavens for THAT one......not pretty), from tight fitting to diaphanous. It’s amusing to realize how you decorate your body correlates with what is resonating in your soul.

The treasures I have laid out in front of me on my kitchen table, you ask? Yes, I will share..........a pair of pants that have a wonderful Indian design to them, with draw string closure, wood beads adorning the ends, a new reusable shopping bag made of colorful recycled material, with the words "I am Powerful" embroidered on one side, and an assortment of teas and accessories to help me enjoy my tea with the full experience. I enjoy drinking loose leaf teas, the aroma is wonderful and calming, tea buds are a visual delight as well as a taste surprise. I was pleased with my purchases. I like to keep them in their boxes and pretty packages for a few days. I enjoy opening the packages again and again to savor the joy. There is even a bit of sadness when I incorporate my new purchases into my life.

It’s an interesting perspective to look back on what was once important enough to spend my money on, compared to what I consider treasure now. It seems like the older I get, the more intrinsic my shopping has become. Not caring so much about what is decorating the outside, but more, what is yearning on the inside. Take the tea for example; I never thought much about it. Considering I am Canadian, and tea was a staple in our home, it is something that I usually took for granted. The big decision was, milk, sugar, or lemon. Now, I have read that white tea is high in antioxidants, matte can have the same effect as caffeine without the "buzz" and green tea is just good all the way around. This will help my insides, keep me young and strong, and give me good things to help my body maintain itself. Add pretty cups adorned with oriental designs and a mixture of dried fruits and berries, drinking tea becomes a sensory delight, for mind, body, and soul.

Does not shout at my out side, but whispers to my in side.

My pants, soft and baggy, ease at the waist, bursting with colorful designs. And, part of the proceeds help women in need, so much the better. It is a privilege to help out my fellow women as I become comfortably styled. The shopping bag too, has a higher cause than to just carry a few groceries to my home. It is made from recycled material and part of those proceeds go to assist organic farming. Feed my body, feed my soul.

It feels "right" to own these treasures. These are not hollow superficial purchases, they are made with the greater good in mind. I guess this is just another phase of evolution that I have realized. I no longer watch the fashion trends of today, I know what comforts me and my soul. I almost feel a sense of sadness for those who are a slave to fashion and the norm, but remind myself that we are all moving to our own vibrations. And, that's OK. Whether we express our soul by feeding the insides or adorning the outsides, that is what makes us such a fascinating bunch. How awesome is that.

So whether you drive to the mall with the music blaring, or sit quietly in your place, credit card in hand, here's to the Christmas time aniticipation of your souls treasures………….Ohhhh goodie!!!

"Nesting"

Nesting

I remember when I was in my third trimester of pregnancy. One morning I woke up and felt this low vibration that set into motion the urge to put everything in it's place. I was washing, and folding, and cleaning, and smiling!! I hummed baby tunes and danced my proud belly around my house. All the while, I was amused at the fact that I had been dragging my growing self around the day before, longing for a moment to sit and rest, only to feel light and free and energized today. Not long after that feeling of freedom and lightness descended upon me, I was blessed with the arrival of my reason for exhisting for the rest of my life.
Nature calls to us as female beings to prepare our space for the coming of this most wonderful blessing. It's primal and maternal and oh so strong. It gives us strength where we think there is none.

From this moment forward, we will continue to add and arrange our nest to best suit the needs of our growing brood. From this moment forward, we will answer that materal call to keep our children safe and warm in the nest that we have created for them. This place becomes the nest of nuture, of exploration, of wonder and realization.....This is a safe place to learn and grow. Our brood becomes bigger, our nest needs to grow with it. We need to grow with it. And, we do. We learn to become great architechs. We have been known to work with next to nothing for materials, except a mother's love. With, that, we build empires.
The time comes; our children, who have grown and thrived in the warmth of the nests we have built, will take that bold step out of our safety and into the world...........and away from us........Now what? We have spent one lifetime building, creating, nuturing, and dreaming. Now the object of all our maternal works has left us.
　
Empty nest.................that is what "they" call it......whomever "they" is. It's a quiet place, not quite as warm or as light as I recall. It echoes with giggles while making bubble bread, my voice reading a bed time story, a child calling in the night. Suddenly the lightness and freedom I felt during my anticipation of birth, has dissapeared and been replaced by the heaviness of a life now left behind.

My hubby was the one who first showed me that one nest emptied can be another nest full filled. Shortly after my oldest daughter followed her dream all the way to Alabama, I came home to the sound of destruction. I followed it into our bedroom to find that the wall between ours and my daughter's room was gone. He was building a nest for us. He knew I always wanted a canopy bed, and my hubby knows I love rustic decor. So he had created a nest for us with copper walls and rustic woodwork framing for bed and beyond.

From there I came to embrace my inner architect. And, it's been a wild ride ever since. It seems to me that I have designed many a palace for myself in our humble home. And, I too have changed the wallpaper and furniture of my soul many times since then. I realized that during my time being the head nest builder for my girls, I really didn't take much time to "decorate my own soul". Well now is my time!! And what fun I have had.

I think my brood be perplexed!! They come home from time to time to visit and they are amused to find how the nest has evolved. They are amused at how I have evolved. My home has been from country to ethereal and back. Colors of browns, and blues, to greys and reds. There are deer horns and oils, there are pictures of sentimental value and those of a thought provoking bent. I am finding that I receive great pleasure lining the walls of my nest with treasures of the past, of memories and meaning. I am not the slave to the fashion of it all.
　
I have learned to ride a motorcycle, belly dance, train a dog, ride a dog sled. I have dressed as a biker, a hippie, an eskimo. My greatest anticipation used to be sitting at a drop zone waiting for my husband to fall softly out of the sky under a bright canopy of color. Now it is curling up under the stars on our deck, with a glass of red wine in my hand, my hubby at my side, my dogs at my feet...and a mezmerizing fire in front of me. I have grown my hair, and cut my hair. I have become more womanly in my figure and given myself permission to say, "I am amazing just the way I am", fully knowing that "the way I am" is ever changing.
I heard my youngest daughter say to me one day, "Gee mom, what's it going to be tomorrow?". She was referring to the ever changing decor of my nest and my soul. I believe she was even a bit put off by it all. I found myself smiling. How fun it is to not be defined by one "thing" or another. I also found it amusing that I can confound my children in such a way. I can hear them talk between the two of them, "What is up with mom, she is acting really weird lately". Well thank you!! What a compliment.

I think though, that my morphing is slowing down. I believe that my soul has been sifting through my ethereal closet for a while now.......trying on the many hidden costumes stored in the mysterious trunks in my mind. Deep inside, I can tell that the tumblers of all the possible combinations are falling into the designated alignment. I find comfort in flowing clothing, soft music, a good book, candles, warm scents, blooming tea, sleeping dogs, my soulmate by my side.........It feels as if I have been sluffing off the skins of all that I can be, growing towards what is truly my soul's desire. Now I can see my center coming to light. It feels like freedom and lightness.....................Funny, I think I have felt something like this before.
　　

"Step Into the Light"

Here I am, another morning, another familiar ritual, brush the teeth, wash the face, put on the makeup...............Looking into the mirror.................my self is staring back at me..............................Who is that? A once strong taut young woman, full of ideals and dreams, now a bit softer and rounder, searching for gray hair and, still, the meaning of life; wondering how I got from there to here.
It's funny how it hits you one day. Life has changed. BIG time. How did that happen without me noticing it? Did it creep in on such small baby feet that it silently passed me by? Or, did it take such giant leaps that it rushed by me and I didn't even recognize it? Maybe it was the babies, and the jobs, and the puppies, and the appointments. And maybe it was trying to juggle life as a single mom after my divorce, or trying to make sense of dating again, or finding the love of my life for the first time.............however it happened............it has..............I'm older.

Now, this may seem like a bad thing. We were all once young, filled with wonder and vitality. Time passes in whatever way it chooses, and we all come to this place called "older". I have had the awesome pleasure to meet so many neighbors and friends who live here too. It does sadden me when I talk with them and find that they feel sad, lost, and empty. I also have felt this, but I have felt something else too..............
The older I am getting, the more I am aware of a "light" that is flickering inside me. I have tried to put a name to this feeling so many times. It comes to me at the strangest moments. Sometimes the feeling is there in the morning when I hear the birds sing, or when I am in the yard with my flowers and my dogs, or while I listen to beautiful music. I ignore it sometimes, actually I ignored it most times, because I was too busy feeling the weight of "older" and wallowing in the fact that my youth was leaving town. Slowly though, I started to notice and pay attention to that warm flickering feeling of my light. It is buried deep so it's warmth is barely felt above the din of life as I know it.

To me, a light is the best way to describe this sensation. I don't know exactly how or when I first felt this prescience. Maybe it was during reflection on my journey to here. Or, during moments of heightened intuition, awakened from my experiences, good and not so. These are reminiscences of times that cause a secret smile to cross my face, or knit my brow................... Memories all my own; quiet times spent just listening to the subtle voices in my soul. Voices that speak softly but oh so sweetly, telling me to celebrate my past and to embody it, grow and learn from it. These moments and thoughts, each one an amp and an ohm to my light, feeding it, nurturing it, to glow brighter and brighter. I needed to stop my frantic life and be aware of the small warmth inside. I needed to clearly celebrate all that I am, turn the dimmer switch of my body and soul. When the intensity of this light brightens my spirit, my self worth is so blindingly obvious.
I remember one day, as I went about it, shopping, lunching, moving through time as I usually did, I noticed a very beautiful young lady. She walked with the confidence of her youth and her charms. My first thought was "Yeah, just you wait, it will all change some day". A cloud of sadness for my self hung above me as I thought about it. Then, as if my soul had stoked my belly by dropping my wonder and worth into it's tiny flame, I felt a rush of warmth and comfort. My thoughts changed, it was so obvious!! I still had beauty, and grace, but I now have so much more! I have a sacred womanly aura that can only come from the passing of time, and the etching of experience, and the weathering of storm. It wasn't as obvious as this young one's beauty, but it is so much more radiant. I walked on, with the confidence of older, and I never felt more beautiful.

At our age, we are the full package in every sense of the word. Our bodies are fuller, we are sensual now, not just sexy. Our hearts have expanded from the years of love and care we share with the world around us. Our souls are full with the satisfaction of dreams realized, yet we still have much to dream about. Our belly, the place deep down inside where we cultivate all that is uniquely us, is fuller. We have something that young ones don't have. We have earned with honor all that we are now. The young ones still have to pay their dues, they have to go through finding their identity, who they are, what they stand for. Many will have to walk through dark hallways to find their light. Some never will. But we have.................

This makes us so very free. No more having to prove our worth. We know it for ourselves. We can dress as we want, dance as we want, live without excuses or permission, free from the shackles of confused youth. We create our own. We know who we are and we adorn ourselves accordingly. No need to explain our selves to anyone. We don't owe that to anyone but that beautiful person in the mirror.

Now how exquisitely beautiful is the freedom of all that. Blinding.............just blinding. When our light shines with all our uniqueness; the uniqueness of a soul that has been fully awaken and accepted, it is the most spectacular light you will ever know.

Dedication

I am now in the middle of life. I often wondered what that meant to me and to others. During my musings on this subject, I have been moved to write my thoughts down. It seems to me, that the "middle" of life is becoming the best part. It is an enigmatic time of  life, full of twists and turns, shadows, and light. I share my thoughts with you, and hope that you will do the same. I dedicate this to all the wonderful beautiful women out there, who live in the "middle" with me. ~ Kat