Flo

In a short time, I’ll be experiencing my birthday. My whole life I have always expected the world to stop on that day and acknowledge me (that’s a somewhat embarrassing declaration given my age, after all, I am no longer 8 years old!)  Moving to Fort Collins from the smaller community of Gunnison has changed how I spend that day.  I no longer spend the entire week of my birthday lunching with close friends who have known me for more than 15 years, sharing amazing cream puffs made by my friend Maureen and opening gifts day after day.  This year, I will be taking the day off work and have no specific plans.  None.  The thing is, that’s ok.  It’s my gift to me – I’m treating me to a break and I may spend the whole day drinking tea on the deck, sitting under a tree reading, or wear my pajamas all day, even to work in the garden (I’ve never done that but find SARK inspiring enough to give it a try).

In her book, Transformation Soup, SARK has a great list about aging:

“The evidence of my aging I have seen so far:

- When I get dressed up to go out I feel oddly invisible and not attractive in the ways I used to rely upon.

- Waiters always call me ma’am.

- My lipstick bleeds.

- The crow’s feel have a heavier step.

- I feel too old for certain clothing in department stores.

- I am mistaken for being the mother of my younger friends.

- My hair is slightly thinner.

- I rely more on my glasses.

- My mother is older.

It’s an embarrassing relief to write of these things.”

- SARK, Transformation Soup

I love this list and find I relate to many parts of it, wanting to add to her list with: 

The person I see when I look in the mirror is much older than the one I feel like inside.

The list could go on and on.  Tomorrow I’ll share SARK’s benefits and gifts of her aging.

In her book “Prosperity Pie”, SARK quotes her friend Zoe age 5 “Oh Susan, why don’t you just BE how you ACTUALLY are?” SARK continues with ”I thought about how often I’m NOT how I actually am, or more important WHO I actually am…I’m often pretending, hiding, in disguise or wearing a mask of some kind.”

Isn’t this true of all of us at one time or another and maybe at more times than we’d like? Saturday night I watched a little boy who gleefully yelled out “I want a present!” during an awards ceremony (with gift wrapped awards).  I laughed at his unabashed enthusiasm and his ability to state what he was honestly feeling – in the moment.  He did not care what anyone felt or thought and he wanted us to know what he wanted.

We go along in life, trying to building strong, self-fulfilling relationships – ones that are empowering, increase our self confidence and make us feel great about ourselves.  I’m not sure we can do that without revealing our honest selves.  It seems like we have to figure out who we our, to ourselves, before we can share it with any one else.

So, I’m challenging me to reveal a little more about who I am to someone I trust in my life.   I encourage you do to the same.

Namaste’

Flo

Yesterday, I was gifted with an opportunity to come home for lunch.  Some people don’t find that very exciting (well, the contents of my frig was not so great), but I thought I’d catch up on a few work related tasks, grab lunch and head back to work.

The Basset babies greeted me with their over-zealous affections.  Homer barking – he wanted a walk.  Ever walked a Basset?  Three Bassets?  As they have aged, it has “improved” (i.e. slowed down) but walking Basset Hounds is all about their noses.  We don’t really walk.  We wander. 

Typically, my mind wanders with the Bassets.  I think about clients, paperwork, schedules, returning phone calls and every now and then, I notice a Basset somewhere he/she is not supposed to be, tighten the leash, say their name and start day dreaming again.  This day I decided to be present, to try and attempt meditative walking (yes, with the Bassets).  The funny thing is, I was truly able to stay present.  I noticed what they were sniffing and noticed the repetitiousness of the route.  I saw a small flowering tree near the trunk of a towering evergreen. The Bassets meanered and paid not attention to the bees on the blossoms of the little tree.  They are always happy to be out and so was I.

I was going to write “In  Michael’s blog yesterday” and I realized my concept of yesterday and the date of the blog I’m referring to are slightly off!  (Where have the other three days of this week gone?)  What I mean to say is ”in Michael’s blog on Sunday“, he wrote about making connections with people and the effects of our behaviors on others (slight interpretation on my part).

Yesterday I received a compliment.  Sounds trite, doesn’t it?  The thing is, it came at just the right instant.  I was a little low, having a self confidence issue related to an interaction earlier in the day.  The whole image (in my brain, of course) was of me being wrong, awkward and disorganized (none of which I was, but there goes my brain, again).  Then I received this lovely emailed note full of compliments (related to something else) and I was immediately lifted out of my funk, knowing if I cannot feel I’m succeeding at one thing, I know I’m OK in another.

It wasn’t particularly a “subtle connection”, yet how could the sender know how uplifted I would feel?

This weekend, I thought often about the concept of disillusionment. Some aspects of how I allow this to be a part of my life and how much I allowed it in the past.

It has been two years since I moved from the small Colorado town of Gunnison to the town of Fort Collins.  I’m surprised and saddened by the friendships that are not as close as they used to be.  That’s a small part of the disillusionment I’m processing.  My own lack of reality, thinking that somehow these relationships could stay as close, warm and caring as they came to be after 20 years living in that small community.

There is something about the holidays. I think about friends I no longer see on a daily basis, about how much I miss their presence and how challenging it is to integrate this sense of loss into my life, without responding to it by being sad, mopey, whatever.    I find grief to be a frustrating and necessary path that I stumble along.  It reminds me of how much I value relationships in my life.