There are definitely some advantages to being a 60-year-old woman. Only recently have I finally declared an end to my “I’m as old as dirt” pity party and have embraced my years of experience, my mistakes and my successes, and am now enjoying the best time of my life! I have found the love of my life, I’m in reasonably good health, I’m at the end of a satisfying career, and I must say that I’m living the life I always dreamed about. And it feels good to finally have the freedom to be who I am and not really care if everyone approves.
If you had asked me when I was in my 20's what my life would look like as a 60-year-old woman, I’m sure I would have envisioned a gray haired grandma crocheting an afghan in a rocking chair. Needless to say, that is not me! I am a grandmother but I don’t feel like one (thanks to my hairdresser and Spanx) and I never was very good at crocheting. I much prefer a glass of wine over a dose of Metamucil and, given a choice, I listen to Bob Marley, Jimmy Buffett, and The Black Eyed Peas. I ride a pink bicycle, make killer martinis (shaken, not stirred), and love to wear lots of eye makeup.
James and I are having so much fun. Oh, we have obligations and we occasionally have to make adult decisions but, most of the time, we just have fun. We play, we talk a lot, we laugh, sometimes we argue but the make-up sex is great, and we really like each other’s company. There are no inhibitions, no “right or wrong” ways – as long as we both agree – and lots of sexting, touching, hugging, kissing, and well...you know. And really, who cares if there is a little flab in the way or a few more wrinkles around the eyes, we both think the other is sexy and we are in love.
And at 60 years old, I can actually write this and not feel guilty or ashamed for thinking it or saying it. There is freedom in having a few decades in the rearview mirror. I’m actually learning to embrace the past, not to dwell on it, but just accept it and know that it is what made me into the woman I am today.
I often think of the last words my mother spoke to my daddy as he was on his death bed. She leaned over him and whispered, “We sure had us some fun, didn’t we?” Isn’t that what life should be? A happy life, filled with good times, fun, love, and laughter. And if we’re lucky, some really good sex – even at sixty!
Friday, February 27, 2015
Back to Nature
When I think I've heard or seen just about everything there is to know about Oklahoma, I am quickly reminded that there is a lot yet to discover about my beloved home state. In a recent edition of my local newspaper, I perused "A Connection Back to the Earth" by Graham Lee Brewer. His article was my introduction to 'wildcrafting' which is foraging through fields for wild food. Yes, that includes edible weeds, flowers, and roots. I'm not quite ready to jump on the band wagon to learn this ancient food source but, nonetheless, I am very intrigued.
According to the article, Jackie Dill, a silver-haired Cherokee woman, learned wildcrafting from her grandmother and is referred to as the Oklahoma queen of foraging. She said (and this is the part that really spoke to me), "...the closer you are to this earth, the better you are at being a human being." I believe this lady expressed, in just a few words, a treasure trove of wisdom.
Spending time outdoors is something I thoroughly enjoy. Whether it's on my hands and knees digging in my flower beds or hiking on a secluded mountain trail, I feel close to God and at peace with the world when I am in nature. Working alone in my garden, I have plenty of time to think about my life and commune with God. Walking among tall trees and on a narrow trail, reminds me of how small I am and dependent I am on a trail map and a Spiritual Guide.
Of course, there are thousands of ways for people to become closer to this earth. My husband enjoys cycling and running in the early morning hours, my cousins enjoy fishing the beautiful Colorado lakes, many folks love to be on a golf course, and my dad and Grandma Minnie spent hours tending their vegetable gardens. I daresay they are (or were) all better people for being outside and enjoying God's vast and diverse creation.
The bottom line is that I want to be a better person, and at my age and with my experiences, I pretty much know what it takes. As I sit in church or as I commute to work and home in my car, I often consider the areas of my life that need work. But, I really like the idea of figuring it all out with dirt under my fingernails or as I push myself to climb a difficult trail up the side of a mountain. And with that in mind, I think I'll go for a walk and get a little closer to this earth and as I do, maybe I'll find a tasty plant to snack on!
According to the article, Jackie Dill, a silver-haired Cherokee woman, learned wildcrafting from her grandmother and is referred to as the Oklahoma queen of foraging. She said (and this is the part that really spoke to me), "...the closer you are to this earth, the better you are at being a human being." I believe this lady expressed, in just a few words, a treasure trove of wisdom.
Spending time outdoors is something I thoroughly enjoy. Whether it's on my hands and knees digging in my flower beds or hiking on a secluded mountain trail, I feel close to God and at peace with the world when I am in nature. Working alone in my garden, I have plenty of time to think about my life and commune with God. Walking among tall trees and on a narrow trail, reminds me of how small I am and dependent I am on a trail map and a Spiritual Guide.
Of course, there are thousands of ways for people to become closer to this earth. My husband enjoys cycling and running in the early morning hours, my cousins enjoy fishing the beautiful Colorado lakes, many folks love to be on a golf course, and my dad and Grandma Minnie spent hours tending their vegetable gardens. I daresay they are (or were) all better people for being outside and enjoying God's vast and diverse creation.
The bottom line is that I want to be a better person, and at my age and with my experiences, I pretty much know what it takes. As I sit in church or as I commute to work and home in my car, I often consider the areas of my life that need work. But, I really like the idea of figuring it all out with dirt under my fingernails or as I push myself to climb a difficult trail up the side of a mountain. And with that in mind, I think I'll go for a walk and get a little closer to this earth and as I do, maybe I'll find a tasty plant to snack on!
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Pie Ala Mode
I can think of nothing much better than a piece of warm apple pie with a big dollop of vanilla ice cream on top. It is the quintessential American dessert that evokes images of Uncle Sam and Old Glory waving in the breeze. At this very moment, I would love to savor every bite of apple swimming in cinnamon and syrupy sugar, a perfect homemade pie crust, and rivers of melting ice cream flooding the bowl. Oh, how I love pie!
However, there is an exception to my love affair with pie, one that I would gladly do without – and that is, “humble pie”. You know, the pie that is eaten after saying something entirely inappropriate or when you think you look really cute but, in fact, your sweater is on wrong-side out or you have shoes on that don’t match. Maybe it’s when you complain of a bad hair day to someone then find out they are in the middle of chemo treatment. That’s when it’s time to cut a big piece of humble pie and eat it very slowly.
Last week, I attended the last session of a four-week class at my church. It was a big class with about 100 people attending so we were instructed to divide into small groups with about 12 in each group. A young man arrived late and found the only seat available in my small group. In my estimation and judging from his appearance, I thought he looked more like a rapster than a choir boy. He strolled in wearing baggy pants, stud earrings, and chains. He sat across from me and didn’t speak to anyone and I thought he obviously had found his way into the wrong class and possibly the wrong church!
After a few minutes of discussion, our leader asked us to voluntarily pray in our small groups. Immediately, my heart began to beat fast and my face flushed because I didn’t feel comfortable praying in front of strangers. What would I say and if I did pray, would I make a fool of myself? Finally, a middle-aged man began to say a nice prayer. Obviously, he knew all the right words because his prayer was very good. When he said amen, I began to sweat and fidget. Who in our group would be brave and dare to utter a prayer after the middle-aged guy’s nice prayer? Surely Lord, not I!
Okay, you probably know where this is going. Suddenly, the rapster dude opened his mouth and began to pray. I had to look at him again just to make sure it was really the same young man with the baggy pants and chains. His words were bold, profound, passionate, and beautiful. I immediately felt ashamed and regretted making such a lousy judgment call about someone who obviously I knew nothing of. I silently asked God for forgiveness but I could not, as quickly, forget my mistake.
This week, I have thought a lot about that young man and the lesson I learned from him. Until this experience and especially considering my up-bringing, I have generally considered myself to be open-minded and strive very hard to be non-judgmental of others according to race, color, or creed. However, I was faced with the ugly truth about my shortcomings and I gladly reevaluated my heart and mind.
The humble pie I was forced to consume these past few days was actually quite good for me. It was somewhat bitter and I choked on it a little, but overall it was beneficial in helping me to become the person I truly want to be.
The best advice comes from the Old Testament. Samuel had serious misgivings about a teenage shepherd boy named David. In response, the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance . . . For the Lord does not see as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”
However, there is an exception to my love affair with pie, one that I would gladly do without – and that is, “humble pie”. You know, the pie that is eaten after saying something entirely inappropriate or when you think you look really cute but, in fact, your sweater is on wrong-side out or you have shoes on that don’t match. Maybe it’s when you complain of a bad hair day to someone then find out they are in the middle of chemo treatment. That’s when it’s time to cut a big piece of humble pie and eat it very slowly.
Last week, I attended the last session of a four-week class at my church. It was a big class with about 100 people attending so we were instructed to divide into small groups with about 12 in each group. A young man arrived late and found the only seat available in my small group. In my estimation and judging from his appearance, I thought he looked more like a rapster than a choir boy. He strolled in wearing baggy pants, stud earrings, and chains. He sat across from me and didn’t speak to anyone and I thought he obviously had found his way into the wrong class and possibly the wrong church!
After a few minutes of discussion, our leader asked us to voluntarily pray in our small groups. Immediately, my heart began to beat fast and my face flushed because I didn’t feel comfortable praying in front of strangers. What would I say and if I did pray, would I make a fool of myself? Finally, a middle-aged man began to say a nice prayer. Obviously, he knew all the right words because his prayer was very good. When he said amen, I began to sweat and fidget. Who in our group would be brave and dare to utter a prayer after the middle-aged guy’s nice prayer? Surely Lord, not I!
Okay, you probably know where this is going. Suddenly, the rapster dude opened his mouth and began to pray. I had to look at him again just to make sure it was really the same young man with the baggy pants and chains. His words were bold, profound, passionate, and beautiful. I immediately felt ashamed and regretted making such a lousy judgment call about someone who obviously I knew nothing of. I silently asked God for forgiveness but I could not, as quickly, forget my mistake.
This week, I have thought a lot about that young man and the lesson I learned from him. Until this experience and especially considering my up-bringing, I have generally considered myself to be open-minded and strive very hard to be non-judgmental of others according to race, color, or creed. However, I was faced with the ugly truth about my shortcomings and I gladly reevaluated my heart and mind.
The humble pie I was forced to consume these past few days was actually quite good for me. It was somewhat bitter and I choked on it a little, but overall it was beneficial in helping me to become the person I truly want to be.
The best advice comes from the Old Testament. Samuel had serious misgivings about a teenage shepherd boy named David. In response, the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance . . . For the Lord does not see as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Writer's Block
Writer's block. Analysis Paralysis. Writer's cramp. Whatever the label, it is frustrating and discouraging. I've been in a writing funk for quite some time and wondered if I would ever have another creative thought or think of anything worth putting into words again. What was about to happen was an extraordinary experience which turned my slump into an opportunity to write.
It was Good Friday and I was grocery shopping for our Easter lunch menu. I was dutifully filling my cart and had just placed a case of bottled water onto the lower portion of my basket. As I stood up, a beautiful young woman was standing near me with an empty cart. She said, "May I ask you a stupid question?" Knowing that there are rarely stupid questions, I replied, "Sure, go ahead." She asked, "Are you a writer?" I was stunned because I thought she was going to ask me which brand of water I preferred. I hesitated and then answered, "Amateur, at best."
Quickly, my mind raced to try and remember her face or recall from where I might know her. Nothing. She was a stranger to me. I had no idea where this conversation was going but I was definitely intrigued. She then told me something that amazed me. "I thought so," she explained. "I felt God prompting me to ask you that question. I want to speak a blessing over that and encourage you."
I was shocked beyond words! I laughed and told her that I was glad that she sensed a "writer's aura" around me of all people, and that I would definitely write about this. She smiled and then began to push her cart down the aisle. As I turned to continue my shopping, I looked over my shoulder and called out to her, "Happy Easter!" She sweetly smiled again and responded, "Happy Easter to you, too!".
I worked my way through the store and looked for the beautiful stranger. As I stood in the checkout line, I looked for her in the other lines. In the parking lot, I glanced about hoping to catch a glimpse of her loading groceries into her car. I did not see her again.
For days afterwards, I pondered my brief yet powerful conversation with the beautiful lady. Who was she? Isn't it odd that her cart was empty even though we were near the back of the store? And then the strangest thought came across my mind. Could she be an angel sent to give me a special message? Not me! What an absurd and arrogant notion to think that God would send someone to me! What have I done to deserve such a miracle?
Of course, the answer is that I had done nothing to earn this unmerited favor. All that is required of me is to receive this Divine gift and, as I had promised the woman, to write my story and share it with anyone who will read it.
Romans 8:28 states, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." God cares about me and you and He longs to give us our hearts' desires. Even if it's only a small thing, such as writing a short story, God can use it to bring peace and joy into our lives.
It was Good Friday and I was grocery shopping for our Easter lunch menu. I was dutifully filling my cart and had just placed a case of bottled water onto the lower portion of my basket. As I stood up, a beautiful young woman was standing near me with an empty cart. She said, "May I ask you a stupid question?" Knowing that there are rarely stupid questions, I replied, "Sure, go ahead." She asked, "Are you a writer?" I was stunned because I thought she was going to ask me which brand of water I preferred. I hesitated and then answered, "Amateur, at best."
Quickly, my mind raced to try and remember her face or recall from where I might know her. Nothing. She was a stranger to me. I had no idea where this conversation was going but I was definitely intrigued. She then told me something that amazed me. "I thought so," she explained. "I felt God prompting me to ask you that question. I want to speak a blessing over that and encourage you."
I was shocked beyond words! I laughed and told her that I was glad that she sensed a "writer's aura" around me of all people, and that I would definitely write about this. She smiled and then began to push her cart down the aisle. As I turned to continue my shopping, I looked over my shoulder and called out to her, "Happy Easter!" She sweetly smiled again and responded, "Happy Easter to you, too!".
I worked my way through the store and looked for the beautiful stranger. As I stood in the checkout line, I looked for her in the other lines. In the parking lot, I glanced about hoping to catch a glimpse of her loading groceries into her car. I did not see her again.
For days afterwards, I pondered my brief yet powerful conversation with the beautiful lady. Who was she? Isn't it odd that her cart was empty even though we were near the back of the store? And then the strangest thought came across my mind. Could she be an angel sent to give me a special message? Not me! What an absurd and arrogant notion to think that God would send someone to me! What have I done to deserve such a miracle?
Of course, the answer is that I had done nothing to earn this unmerited favor. All that is required of me is to receive this Divine gift and, as I had promised the woman, to write my story and share it with anyone who will read it.
Romans 8:28 states, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." God cares about me and you and He longs to give us our hearts' desires. Even if it's only a small thing, such as writing a short story, God can use it to bring peace and joy into our lives.
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