Tag: Ageing

Name Five Things

At a certain age it becomes apparent you’d do many things differently and sadly, even more apparent you won’t get the opportunity.

With aging comes wisdom, at least that’s the plan. However, I’ve often wondered, what’s the point of acquiring wisdom when you are quickly becoming too old to put it to good use? Is it not a fact with most people aging moves faster than knowledge?

How can we use this wisdom for good?

Despite the fact you’d love to impart that insight to your children it becomes obvious they choose to acquire their own. At times they will allow you to share your perceptions with them, but most often they select their own paths to enlightenment. One can only stand by and wait to serve.

Of course, as most of us know although painful, we learn from our own mistakes far more readily than from watching those of others. It seems hard won lessons are the ones that have the most impact on our lives.

It is in this spirit I will share a lesson I learned far too late in life.

I am beginning to believe one of the greatest gifts one can be blessed with is not solely a metabolism that allows you to eat whatever you wish and not gain weight. Yes, this is great, but also the ability to learn early in life how inconsequential things should be ignored and cast aside works too.

If you doubt the veracity of what I say, think back on your life and name five things, just five that you agonized over but failed to made a difference in your destiny in any significant way.

I can’t even bear to think about how much of my life has been wasted thinking about inconsequential problems that had no impact on my destiny.

I know you are having trouble finding five is hard because most of the things we worry about disappear or resolve themselves. Like a leaf that blows off a tree and wafts through the air unnoticed and is soon forgotten.

A bad haircut that’s one. I’ve had so many I can’t even count them, yet I’m certain I agonized and worried until my hair seemed normal once again.

How silly. Hair grows back and that’s a fact. Giving it a thought is truly a waste of time and yet we do. I suppose one could argue it’s because a good hair day can enhance your self-esteem, make you feel better as you move through a day and propel you to make better decisions. But can it? Who knows? Yet to stress over a few hairs seems frivolous now.

Or, did I bid enough on that house, should I have gotten the black car, maybe we could have afforded to take that cruise, is my term paper long enough?

These are examples of something truly low on the importance scale.

Here’s one that caused me many sleepless nights; career choices.

I was always so bad at decisions I thought would impact my life sending me down a dark hole of despair and regret.

I chose, and when they turned out to be less than I’d hoped for I was wracked with self-contempt.  Certain I’d ruined my life for good. Yes, Drama Queen is in my resume.

Yet with age and wisdom I came to see that in the end I wasn’t the best judge of what had worked or not worked in my life. In many ways it didn’t matter because I wound up in the same place. In other words, my own divergent paths converged to take me where I needed to go.

Any time spent berating myself was a waste because the fates always lead you back. All twists and turns meet at one location; the road you are destined to follow.

I have heard the phrase, “it’s all meant to be,” so many times it’s burned into my brain.

Yet strangely enough I never paid attention until only a few years ago.

I gave it lip service, but was always filled with doubt and remorse.

Would my life have been so much easier had I heeded my own words and just let destiny take its course?

I imagine it would, and I’d have spared myself so much drama and self-recrimination. Although, even now I’m tempted to yell at myself for all those foolish moments spent chastising myself. An unproductive exercise leading to squandering the wisdom I now embrace.

Why I couldn’t simply let it all go I have no idea. Nor do I fully understand why I felt I had so much control over my life when clearly, I didn’t.

Do we all have to believe it’s only us making the choices, the mistakes, the plan that guides us forward?

Now of course I know that isn’t the case.

All the brick walls I hit my head against were put there not to give me a headache, but to encourage another path entirely. And did I spend way too much time head banging instead of simply looking around for another road? A big resounding yes to that.

Some bang, some don’t. I did.

My daughter strangely enough was the one that pointed out this character flaw. Early on she realized walls are there for good reason and not for headaches.

I’d like to think it was from watching me doing the wrong things she learned to do the right ones.

She made me understand if something doesn’t work it wasn’t meant to, and something better will come?

I do take some credit for serving as a bad example, at least that’s how I rationalize things.

Some always seem to make good choices while others like myself not so much. Like the nazi in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, who drank from the wrong grail cup. Gotta love that scene.

I do believe those who take more risks and have more options learn control is an illusionary meal we feed ourselves to make sense of it all.

We worry too much despite the advice of Alfred E. Newman the sage of Mad Magazine and ignore our calming voice screaming to be heard.

I myself spend way too much time agonizing over uncontrollable things. Despite knowing many times things turn out better than we’d even imagined.

Opting for a new untraveled road can be how we rise above the mundane to a higher level. If we remain Earthbound we may never soar.

The five things don’t matter; they didn’t alter our lives because what transformed us probably wasn’t our choice anyway.  

So, I choose to choose and forget the silly things that mean nothing in the end.

Letting go rises one higher. Bucket list time; name five things you’ve always wanted to do, then do them.

No matter what age, life’s currents can carry you to a remarkable destination. Best of all you never know what awaits you when you finally land on that uncharted isle. I’m betting nine times out of ten it’s an exciting and unexpected adventure.

Locking My Bedroom Window

In life we ultimately discover that problems require solutions. However, the solution to all problems are many times perplexing and difficult to uncover.

There are times when I feel like Sherlock Holmes attempting to solve a case. One such mystery has me quite stumped and in the tradition of Dr. Watson I will name this case…The Night Prowler and Mystery Biter.

I assure you my situation is not unique. I have spoken to countless friends and acquaintances that find themselves faced with a similar conundrum and no solution in sight.

After studying many of these puzzling acts, I find myself close to a solution.

It all began when I turned sixty-five. Sure, Social Security was now on the horizon, but I couldn’t seem to find any correlation between my case and the monthly stipend from the government. So no conspiracy theory here.

I continued my investigation.

At first it was intermittent.

A bite here, a pain there. I took little notice thinking it was something that had happened during daylight hours.

Yet after a time I realized the events were occurring closer together and far more often.

I would awaken with a large red itchy mass on my cheek. Or a sharp pain in my rib or even an inability to actually move my arm.

I became more mystified as time went on.

More frequently the first words out of my mouth in the morning were OUCH! What the hell?

Not wanting to overreact to these nighttime attacks on my body, I attempted a reasonable explanation for these occurrences.

Aliens? Not so much. I had heard they probed earthlings through the belly button and nope, no evidence of that anywhere.

Having the hassle of working sans Dr. Watson my theories often came up short.

But I persevered. My determination was inspiring. Not quite certain to whom, but I digress.

First things first. How were these interlopers entering a locked residence in the middle of the night.

Possessing a secure entrance where I must buzz someone inside, it seems rather impossible. But, of course we know that if one is determined nothing is impossible.

The bedroom window I thought. They must be climbing up and sneaking in to beat me. Yet, I     thought I might hear noises if that was the case.

I examined the possibility someone was driving a car through the window at such rapid speed it was like a flash going by in a dream. Too quickly for my eyes to even perceive.

Maybe that dream about participating in the Formula 500 wasn’t a dream after all?

No matter how I tried to imagine a plausible scenario, I couldn’t seem to come up with a viable reason why I awakened in the morning bruised, battered and full of ouchies.

I definitely wasn’t imaging these mystery bruises.

They weren’t there at night, but in the morning, I couldn’t turn my neck. Or my foot hurt, or a big red itchy bump was on my shoulder.

Was I running in my sleep? Who and what was sneaking in at night to beat the hell out of me?

What the heck, was my mattress made of, steel?

It’s not as if old age doesn’t afford you enough aches and pains, at night ghosts, goblins or ghouls are partying on my bed and kicking the hell out of me.

OUCH!

I once hopped out of bed in the morning. Eager to begin a new day. Filled with energy and ambition and tanked up with enough coffee to run a fifty-mile marathon. Okay, maybe not fifty miles.

Now if I simply turn my head to look at the clock it takes five minutes to stop the pain and another ten to turn my head back.

I’m beginning to think it’s not aliens at all. Or teenagers doing wheelies over my entire body with a GTO. I’m beginning to suspect it’s my body punishing me for not working out in college, or after. My body sees young girls with spandex on walking to the gym thinking, serves you right to suffer aches and pains after the way you neglected me.

But who knew?

To us exercise was walking back and forth to school four times a day. Riding our bikes to the drug store or playing dodge ball in a neighbor’s back yard.

It was walking to a friend’s home six blocks away and returning home before the street lights came on.

Running home from school when you got all ‘A’s on your report card.

Walking to the store for a quarter’s worth of penny candy and wax teeth.

Or chasing the Good Humor man down the street. “STOP! I need a Strawberry Shortcake Bar.”

It was going on the bus with a friend to that new giant mall and walking around there all day.

Or swimming in the summer because there was no air conditioning.

I believe that would qualify as exercise.

So why do I feel like I’m in horrible shape?

Why is my body so angry that it wakes up each morning with a chip on its shoulder, a bite or a big huge OUCH!?

We ate healthy, played healthy and there were no video games to keep us glued to a screen. Our feet were our mode of transportation and they worked great. Now it takes me ten visits to the shoe store to find a pair that doesn’t kill my feet.

Ageing is difficult enough when you can actually see the ravages of time. But the ones that are stealth, well that’s totally over the top.

I have to go now so have a great day. I’m setting up a teddy bear nanny cam in my bedroom. I’ll catch those suckers now!

The Tao of the Baby Boomer

The Tao of the Baby Boomer

Yes it’s true I write a great deal about getting older. Usually I try to include humor in my tirades just to ease the pain a bit, but lately I find myself at a loss about how to stem the tide of gray hair, muscles morphing into fat and turning up the television sound at regular intervals.

Oh sure we all share the same trials and tribulations about the passing years and I’ve often thought that the Baby Boomer generation, who I believe, and more so every day was one of the smartest groups to populate the earth, should have some answers. 

However, as I meditate on the past and the idols we all shared I’m coming up a bit empty on the whole self-help front. What exactly should we have learned from the childhood icons we spent our time watching and adoring?

I’m starting with Clarabell. Don’t mock yet, for in thinking about this silent clown who preferred to communicate though a horn I have discovered so much wisdom my mind truly boggles.

First and foremost to my knowledge no one ever told us why he honked instead of talking like regular people.

So was it to promote silence? Nope, don’t think so since that damn horn was noisy and annoying. I’d rather he spout Shakespeare than keep violating my ears with that racket, so what did we learn here? Or perhaps should have learned?

Perhaps Clarabell was trying to teach us that sometimes we can communicate without the need for words. A smile, a beep, a wink or a hand gesture, and I think we all know that a hand gesture can indeed speak volumes, can suffice when communicating our thoughts.

Did he also want us to learn that we need to look behind the mask and make up human beings may use to cover up their feelings at times and see the real person? That digging deeper is sometimes a true act of charity when someone needs our help. So was the message wasted? How many of us have sought to determine whether or not someone is truly hurting when they portray a mask of unkindness to the world? Have we reached out and learned Clarabell’s lesson or merely walked away when we could have helped?

Of course most importantly is the lesson of silence. How many times have we spoken and regretted our words? How many times have we kept silent and made a greater impact? Many I assume. I know I have.

I could never speak of idols without including the great Bugs Bunny. Oh the lessons here were too numerous to mention, but one of my very favorites was wearing a mask to achieve our ends in life? No, I haven’t lost it altogether, although I admit I’m pretty close after watching the news this morning. If you will reach back into your memory banks and visualize Bugs in red lipstick and a bear trap in his mouth seductively stopping the Tasmanian Devil in his steps, you will agree that sometimes make up can do wonders. No, I don’t mean in the sense we can stop a mugger by applying lipstick, but that when we face the world both friends and adversaries, oftentimes it is necessary to wear a different face in diverse situations. We must morph into that which will achieve our ultimate goal and secure what we are seeking. In other words knowing our opponent is a special power that one might even call a super power if, we are Marvel fans.

Whether it is to close a multi-million dollar deal or simply convince a salesperson to return a sweater that pilled too quickly, our superpower is in knowing how to handle others. Thank you, Bugs. Of course it is also obvious that a little lipstick and great haircut will do wonders for seducing the opposite sex, and we probably have the Bugmeister to thank for that lesson. If he can stop the Tasmanian Devil, we can secure a second date.

American Bandstand’s lesson is an easy one, you can actually dance your troubles away and Dick Clark had found the Fountain of Youth. Although the dancing part gets a bit sketchy when you’re recovering from that knee replacement.

No list of learning would be complete without the Mickey Mouse Club. So what did we learn from the people with the mouse ears? So much. For example did you know Wednesday is anything-can-happen day? Every week I couldn’t wait for Wednesday and although I watched diligently the other four days, it was the excitement of not knowing what might happen that kept me glued to the old black and white TV set. 

This was a truly important lesson that I have carried with me my entire life. For if we’ve learned nothing from our stay on this planet it is that there is no knowing, no magic power that can prepare us for what is to come. This is the yin and yang that truly defines life. For it is the thrill of the unknown paired with the fear of tomorrow that makes life so seductive. Will tomorrow be a better day or bring more problems?Will I laugh or cry when the sun rises and am I the one who ultimately determines which that will be?

Perhaps a bit of both I say.

How many people have visited a psychic and the first thing they say is, “don’t tell me anything bad.” Ah, so there are conditions on us knowing the future after all. 

So anything can happen day is a double-edged sword. Of course on the Mickey Mouse Club it was always something fun, but in real life we’ve learned perhaps not so much all the time.

Of course there are many more examples of the Tao of the Baby Boomer or as the Mandalore put it, “This is the Way.” I shall continue to write about them from time to time and I’d love to hear from readers as well about, so please write.

In the end growing old is nothing to joke about, or is it? Is this what we have learned from all the upbeat icons of the past after all? Is it our responsibility to take the knowledge of the past and find some comfort and often much humor in what has come before?

What lessons can we embrace each day to better our lives?

First, don’t watch the news. Call a friend each day and laugh together. Count five things we are grateful for and damnit, I don’t care what anyone says, eat chocolate! I sometimes go on YouTube and pull up the acts of my favorite comedians and just sit and laugh. It does actually help and if you have some chocolate while you’re laughing, well I believe they call that achieving nirvana.

I truly believe there is no magic bullet for aging despite all those who profess to know the answers, but I do know that sharing the creaking bones, anemic metabolism and every new wrinkle with friends helps. And when you’re having a really bad day just remember what Clarabell always said…