Painting Loves Me? It Loves Me Not

How many middle-aged lumps do you know? Those tired, overwhelmed, and overscheduled people who stay in their own grooves, (or ruts, depending how you see it)? I mean, who has the luxury to branch out and learn a new skill? Which is kind of crazy--because we impress upon our youth the importance of learning and trying new things like, all of the time…so why not heed that advice? Let’s take to heart Mahatma Gandhi’s words-- “Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.” I know I push off many personal things for sake of time, commitment, and money, but even those short, cheap bursts of education can teach us lessons. And that’s healthy.

This past week some friends and I uncorked our enthusiasm for trying one of those painting with wine classes. For two mere hours we committed to recreate an acrylic masterpiece on canvas, all while sharing in the camaraderie of other hopeful ladies. It looked simple enough—besides, tons of people have been facebooking their newfound art skills, why couldn’t we? Surely I could follow some teacher’s lead and easily transform some bright brushstrokes into flowers.

Let me break down what I observed:

1—We are our own worse critics. Most of the women at my table, ages ranging from 35-75, kept saying how horrible they were, how poorly their flowers turned out. Is self-deprecation just a way to bond with others? Do we truly feel we are talentless? Or does learning how to paint take longer than minutes? (See #2).

2—Painting, while fun to get in touch with the 5 year-old in me, is difficult. Special props to those artist masters out there—I get why people go to art school.

3— Acquiring a new skill can be challenging and very humbling--even when the stakes aren’t high. We should remember that feeling when watching children learn.

4—Connect with others when learning something new. We belly achingly laughed so hard at ourselves throughout the painting process. A definite kinship naturally unfolds.

5—In life there are always people better and worse than you.

6—Wine makes everything better. But easels should have drink holders.

The next morning I laughed when my two year-old son pointed to my painting and asked, “What ‘dat?”

Even though I undertook an undemanding exercise in painting I stared at my flowers and back at my son. His question meant so much more than the obvious. “You mean those gerbera daisies? An attempt to be an artist? A humbling reminder that we should stretch ourselves? A life learning lesson?”

Yup, what I discovered? Learning a new skill is not just about the end product—that trite meaning of the journey being more important than the destination. But it stands true. My painting won’t be sold on etsy.com any time soon, but that’s not why I did it—and not why I encourage you to step out of your groove to live and learn something new.

Be a Super Here-o

Who’s your favorite female super hero? I challenge you to think of more than two. If you’re a comic book nut you will probably drum up a longer list, but for the general population…is there someone other than Wonder Woman? Maybe Supergirl?

I don’t don a cape, and I’ve never worn a strapless body suit with an attached magic lasso. I’m no superhero. Those overwhelming mornings when I drive my daughter to chorus practice only to realize it’s been rescheduled? Or when I’m driving an hour to teach and realize my gas tank is scary low, and then the station credit card reader doesn’t work? Oh, and feeling guilty because I left a sick kid at home? Or when I look at the phonics workbook and wonder when I’ll finally work with my five year-old? Yes, some days I wish I had supernatural abilities to alleviate the stress of life’s daily maintenance to get everything done—and not even to accomplish the above and beyond stuff like building a raised garden bed or making a baby book for my two and a half year-old.

How can we women balance, well…everything…and remain poised and powerful?

Comic book writers, time to create new realistic characters:

·         Lightning Laundress: Puts away the folded laundry as soon as it’s done--so no one trips over the piles in the upstairs hallway

·         Chauffeuring She-Mom: Gets everyone to their correct activities-- on time, in clean uniforms, with washed (and not just rinsed) water bottles

·         Dinner Dash: Makes healthy and yummy meals that everyone eats (with minimal clean-up) every night

·         High Temp-tress: Melts all of this snow so the kids can play outside without getting frostbite or repeatedly coming inside for dry, warm mittens

·         Last Minute Lass: Zaps that forgotten item from the food store to the kitchen counter

·         Mother Time: Creates extra hours in the day to steal some alone minutes

·         Rubber Maid: Generates a deflector shield for negative comments and whining

A magic hammer, storm creation abilities, or electrical venom blasts will not help my posse of friends. But might this simple notion bring clarity and strength? In my class last week a female student discussed stress, and in one statement clarified the importance to focus. She said, “We only feel stress when we’re thinking about the past or the future--never the present.” That makes sense. Concentrate on the here.

For all of you fortysomething warriors: when you feel tested and overwhelmed, morph into your own Super Here-o. Instead of worrying about the future or being upset with the past, focus on the now. Only you, some less-than perfect human, (not some fictitious alter ego), can bring yourself peace, justice league-style.

 

As a side note: did anyone list She-Hulk as a known super hero? For a female super hero reference go to: http://www.thetoptens.com/best-female-superheroes/

Why 40 is the New 20

Hopeful, energized, and no clue what to do with my life. Am I describing myself now or when I was 20?  Considering I’m grappling with tons of uncertainties, talking to friends about their dream jobs, and still discovering my own paths…I’m sure Pamela Anderson was on to something in 2007 when she said, “I think 40 is the new 20.”

As a fresh-faced junior in college I remember battling with my folks, still hearing their concerned echoes in my memory:

·         What job will you get?
·         How will you support yourself?
·         You are overextended. 
 

Back then I leaned into every opportunity I could seize--trying various jobs, internships, on-campus activities...just to see what would strike my fancy, spending time on things I wanted to learn more about and loved.  Along the way I interacted with amazing people—while having fun.

Hmmmm….times haven’t changed much.  Even now with part-time jobs, being a mother, and juggling activities I feel overextended, and I fancy whether I will ever pursue a single career or earn a substantial paycheck again.  Especially for men and women who quit work and have raised children for the past 10 or so years…we’re on the brink of job decisions once more, just like when we were 20.  Peers are deciding whether to go back part-time or full, in what industry, or to start their own ventures.  Fortysomethings have been brushing off their interview skills, wondering if they’re still relevant, and are diving into jobs for another 25 years until retirement.

On Friday night some friends, my husband, and I discussed our dream jobs around the dinner table.  Granted, it’s probably too late for me to pursue a Broadway dance career, but as I listened to my husband and friends describe their dreams…I wondered, wow, are we so burdened by our houses, kids, future college bills…that we cannot pursue these ideals?  Hope and expectant energy laced the lively discussion—not regret that these things will never happen--(although, truthfully I am sad I will not tap dance on stage).  A youthful vibe of promise spewed from a fountain of “used”---as in, “I used to want to be a dolphin trainer,” and “I used to want to start my own business,”--and the conversation glowed with ideas.

In our forties are we better poised than we were 20 years ago to pursue the pipe dream over the practical?  A younger self was probably inhibited by lack of experience, funds, and connections.  What is missing now?  That college student’s feeling of invincibility?  Somehow I’d like to think we’re past that Reality Bites era of trying to figure out our professional lives.  The difference, besides not being late for some jean-folding seminar at The Gap, are the heavier responsibilities attached…kids, homes, retirement accounts. 

For the majority who are reliving a career consideration: perhaps looking for direction is as simple as looking at your reflection.  Take what you can from your younger self, especially that energy, that bright optimism…let your inner 20 year-old wake up so you can go after your dreams. 

Third Down and What? Fearing 40

I’m a sucker for any sports movie. Pretty much any flick: Hoosiers, Major League, Angels in the Outfield, Cool Runnings, Rocky, you name it. I cheer for the underdog and get swept up in the energy unfolded by some achievement run, that unbridled love of team or sport, that wholehearted zeal created by strength, courage, and tenacity. I totally tear up and feel my adrenaline rise like I had just beaten Apollo Creed myself.

Sure, I’ve always loved competition and athletics, but if I wonder why these stories grip my heartstrings…maybe the core emotion is fear. That an athlete or a team can work so hard—yet there is a chance that they’ll swing and miss and not win. There’s a certain exuberance felt when the odds of losing collide with the possibility of the extreme victorious high. Listen to football fans cheer wildly when it’s third down and yards to go—such sizzling hollers from the stands.

Are we so afraid at our own 3^rd down, being 40? Lately I’ve talked with some of my friends, and the topic keeps surfacing. One recently said over a mug of coffee, “I’m scared of turning 40. I know all of these bad things that can happen.” We know it because at this point we have experienced miscarriages, death, children’s hospital overnights, and chronic diseases. What’s the next cancer we’ll hear about? Or the next “itis” diagnosis? The fears pile up—and not only along health lines, but of our kids’ hearts being broken, surviving alone after divorce, paying for college, finding a job after being laid off... the endless list exhausts us. I even hear that “having it too good” scares people, the ominous shadow lurking over our shoulders, waiting for something bad to happen.

Why focus on the fear now—does it inspire or tire you?

Some people may use fear as a catalyst for action, in others it paralyzes. We lose precious time and energy fearing the unknown—that I get. When it prevents us from living in the moment, we simply don’t. And that reduces our quality of living, our ability to connect and make lasting memories, to experience joy. Dr. Brené Brown, author of Daring Greatly writes, “We’re not our best selves in fear.” Time to ignore the fear so we can be our best and live fully. And yes, I mean literally push out those negative thoughts. Replace them with positive ideas, with a list of blessings, happy reminiscences—whatever it takes to eliminate the panic and create calmness.

Apollo Creed told Rocky, “You know, Stallion? It’s too bad we’ve got to get old.” That may be true, but Creed found the fight in himself to be brave. It’s inevitable we all age. Since we don’t know how many rounds we’ll fight, innings to play, or yards to our personal end zone, to me, it’s futile to let anxieties take root. Because what we fear—life’s worst imaginings—do happen. In no way can we ever prepare enough or pretend to know how it will feel when the ball drops. When it does we will have to act anyway. Instead of worrying find the inner strength to turn your back to the fears chasing you. Whatever works—find your peace, courage, faith, and trust.

Signs Say--Listen to Your Heart Singing

I’ve spent my share of dollars on palm readers, the sketchiest one in some woman’s living room in Minneapolis.  As much as I loved the entertainment factor I still listened with a captivated ear to get a glimpse of the future, a mere hint of how I should move forward.  I’m a sucker for signs in our cosmic universe helping me explain events and decisions.  Even five years ago I caved in to saying “yes” to making a move to central Florida for my husband’s career.  What pushed me over the edge?  Driving to the food store and seeing two Florida license plates here in Pennsylvania.  I squinted at those sunny oranges, then looked to the skies and said out loud, “Wow, this HAS to be a sign from above.”*

Since I’m a seasoned soul now…should I still seek signs when making decisions?  Or should I rely on my acquired “wisdom”—(a term used loosely)-- mixed with my gut feelings?

Growing up I was the person who would listen to the radio for inspiration about how my life would unfold, wondering if a secret crush would amount to anything by what song came on my pastel radio—a little “Just a Friend” by Biz Markie vs. Roxette’s “It Must Have Been Love.”  Later in life I admit to reading an ex-boyfriend’s horoscope to glean what he was up to.  Especially that I’m a Capricorn, I should be level-headed, right? 

In this decade when so many distractions obscure our thoughts, (astrological or otherwise), maybe we should be contemplating less and feeling more.  Ignore the noisy external signs that mold our thinking.  Better yet—don’t even search for them.  That’s right—take the time to embrace some quiet and stillness so we can listen to our own hearts for guidance.  Carving out those minutes without life’s static can be done.  One of my friends awakes an hour before her kids so she can enjoy her coffee and start the day on her terms.  Other ideas: go for a solo walk after dinner, make your kids do an hour of quiet time in their rooms, drive without turning on the radio.  If something bothers me I retreat to the tranquility of my bedroom and write in my journal.

Remember:  anything in life can be justified; it’s all how people frame their choices.  I get that.  But when making decisions or wondering why stuff is happening—know that life is full of coincidences.  Sometimes reading messages in innocent indicators can do more harm than good.  Rather, look inside and listen to yourself.  Get a gut feel for a warning.  Feel what brings you most joy.  Instead of figuring out the SIGNs we should be taking note of what makes our hearts SING.

* As a post script: we ended up not moving to Florida in 2008, which, to this day, I chalk up to a miracle and having faith in our destiny.  I'm glad the day my husband had to sign our moving papers I didn’t hear Natasha Bedingfield sing, “Take me away” in her song, “Pocketful of Sunshine.”  I will share—that afternoon my entire being exhaled a sigh of relief because staying in Pennsylvania felt right and made me incredibly happy.

Our Own Mile Markers...When Have You Felt Validated? A Look Back

In September we stood as a family at the 0 Mile Marker statue in the beautiful city of Richmond, Virginia.  It wasn’t the first time in my life I’ve noticed one of those signs capturing the distance from some point to another, but I wondered, who the heck really cares about the distance in miles? 

That gray, literal “milestone” in the heart of Richmond made me think of life’s journey.  What mile markers in our own lives stand out?  Can we take anything from those moments when we’ve felt like we arrived?  That we were validated? 

Recently an almost 60 year-old woman looked at me and asked, “Why do you have such a problem with 40?”  To be clear—I don’t have any issue turning 40 or being “Over the Hill.”  Every passing milestone/age carries its own weight.  I decided to map some of my own age markers when I truly felt older, looking back at significant years and their implications for me.  Maybe you can relate.

Age 9: It was the last year before double digits, which I’d be for the rest of my life.  I felt too old to wear pigtails.

13: A teenager.  Why was I the only 7^th grader without braces?  I’d have to wait until 9^th grade, way past their cool factor. 

16:  Sweet sixteen and never been kissed, that accurate sing-song cliché.  Couldn’t wait for my driver’s license and the freedom/responsibility along with it. 

18: High school graduation.  Knowing full-well that the special “John Hughes in my own mind” era was over and being excited about the college years ahead. 

21:  Fond memories of dear college friends celebrating a rite of passage that included some drinks laced with Bailey’s and amaretto liquor.

23:  Landing my first “real” job in Boston.  Switching to a Massachusetts driver’s license and car plates--thinking that I was all grown up because I did so.  Renting a 3^rd floor walk-up apartment in the Italian North End.  Monthly walks to the laundromat with my oversized duffel bag of dirty clothes.

25:  On my actual birthday I carried an extra bounce in my step because I thought that co-workers/clients would look at me and somehow read my “not just graduated from college age” on my face and treat me with more seriousness and respect.  

26:  Meeting my husband.  At a bar.  Technically it was a networking event.  Obviously we were networking for other reasons than drumming up business.

28:  Marrying.  Feeling very grown up dressed in ivory with a carefully made-up face and styled hair while helping my grandmother put on her stockings. 

30:  Becoming a mom.  At 5 AM requesting to see my daughter, (who spent the night in the nursery), just so I could look at her in awe, not believing I was now responsible for this completely dependent little person.

31:  Buying our first house—so excited to create a home. 

32:  Giving birth to my first son.  Note—I didn’t request to have his bassinet rolled into my room at 5 AM, instead opting for more rest.

33: Began teaching at the graduate level.  Loving the inspiration provided by my students and colleagues.

34: Meeting my always happy second son.

37: Treating my hospital stay and birth of my third son as a Bed and Breakfast retreat—bringing books to read and enjoying the peace and quiet—of a hospital—over the demands of being home. 

39:  Embarking on this blog to discover the joys and uncertainties of getting older.

What will 40 have in store, besides a slower metabolism?  Not sure yet.  But I encourage everyone, at any age, to look back with a sense of your own wonder at the significant steps, and perhaps missteps, you’ve taken to get to your current mile marker.  The distance traveled does matter.  It takes endurance, some heartbreak, joyous moments, real responsibility, some inertia, and lots of learning to grow older.  Write it down, look at old pictures, and celebrate your own journey. Age may be just a number—but remember, it all counts. 

If Not Now, When?

Hands down, the Barbie yellow camper ranks as one of my favorite childhood presents.  It took me hours to put the stickers on the plastic pieces.  It even had a little seat so I could ride on top of it.  One warm day after it rained I took that banana beast outside and pretended that the doll family was on vacation, skipping their shoeless feet in the puddles, wondering if one day I would take my own family on a dream trip like the pretend one in the driveway. 

So it’s no wonder that two weeks ago I picked up a yachting magazine at a dentist’s office and thought the exact same thing—would I ever live a glamorous life and travel as depicted?  When I flipped to the article entitled “If Not Now, When?” I almost choked.  Could this be a sign to head to the Mediterranean and cruise on a big boat?  I’m no Sheila E, so the glamorous life is out of the picture, but it does beg the question:  how much do you save up now to live a richer life later?   Is it irresponsible to take risks especially when the financial stakes are high?  The answer is “yes” to buying a yacht I can’t afford, but it gets a little blurry when discussing a family vacation or investing in home improvement projects. 

And it’s not just financial decisions that are easily postponed… volunteering at a children’s hospital, taking African dance lessons, trying a new career, sending unpublished books to publishers.  The back burner used to feel far away, but in reality that flame could burn me it’s so close.  I remember in my twenties feeling relieved that Julia Child was 49 when she first published Mastering the Art of French Cooking and that Judy Blume began writing when her kids were in preschool.  Somehow knowing that other women became successful professionally later in life gave me a grace period.   I always felt I had time.

But my clock is ticking, and it’s not that clock. 

I think of the common excuses for not taking the plunge, any plunge:

• I can’t afford it
• I don’t have the time
• It’s unrealistic
• It’s not a good time

But are they mere excuses costumed as avoidance?  I have found that whenever I have stuck out my neck and taken a risk—it’s always been better than sitting with regret.  Even if nothing substantial came of it.  At least I can feel solace with trying.  No matter what—we gain something, even if it’s just perspective, a new friend, or a conversation starter—whether we fail or succeed. 

During this next decade I vow to take my time, and I don’t mean by being patient and detail-oriented.  I mean I will literally take time-- grab it, reserve it, seize it, and use it.  About fifteen years ago in Boston I stumbled upon a now nameless travel book whose foreword’s quotation said something like, “The only trips I regret are the ones I didn’t take.”  That sentiment rings through my mind whenever I question spending money on a purchase or an experience I know I would value.  The same holds true when considering whether to take a risk or try something new.  I may not be luxe-y enough for yachting, but I am fortunate for many other real opportunities. 

We older gals can do anything, right, Barbie?  And I mean, right now.