Thoughts On Turning Seventy-five

 

I've always been a maverick, an outlier, someone who has to do things in the way I was able to do them. I started, at a very young age, writing down my thoughts and impressions without a clue why. I did love to read and I freely admit that I also don't recall when I first began to read but I know I've never gotten over it.

However, though that sounds like the beginnings of what should have been a writing career, my personality type interfered with my being able to admit that I could be a 'writer'. I never granted myself a byline or even put a title on anything that I composed because that would have been too presumptuous. Instead, I stuffed the lined notebook papers that held my stories and poems into the bottom of my sock drawer. 

Eventually, as I matured, I started keeping a journal. Still no titles or bylines but I did call the collection - Shadows Speaking. Cracks me up when I read those earnest passionate thoughts of my younger self.

I was a dreamer from the very beginning and so it was common for me to ponder things deeply. I wasn't good at self promotion so I was mostly talking to myself but I did secretly believe I had profound insights into human existence. I even thought I could imagine what it would be like to be old. I  wrote several poems about aging.

I didn't have a clue. Clueless I was.  But my old self is willing to be lenient on my young self. At least young self was trying to understand the aging process.

What old self knows now is that until you wake up with the same aches and pains you went to bed with, until you  start toddling and shuffling with carefully placed steps because you are no longer steady on your feet, until you realize that you have to let go of so much of what you worked so hard to learn how to do, until that which was once so important to you now seems irrelevant, you can't possibly know what it's like to be old. The downside should be obvious. 

But wait... there 's an upside.

When you are officially old, you have history, the good, the bad and the ugly but hopefully mostly good. You can be proud of those things you used to do with vigor and energy but you don't have to do them anymore. You have built in excuses for eating dinner early so you can go to bed early. Others understand if you can't do certain things anymore. You can have cereal for dinner if you want. Or cake. 

If you wear your shirt wrong side out no one thinks anything of it. You can accidentally lock yourself out on the back deck, (twice) and someone will pop in and rescue you and think nothing of it. You can forget things and say dumb stuff and be grumpy sometimes and get excused because... well, because.

So, yes, there is certainly a downside to aging but there is  also a silver lining to the dark cloud - you can be what/who you are without having to prove yourself or compete with the current standards du jour of expectations for perfection. Better yet, you are way closer to finishing your last story. 

I officially title this one Pioneer.

And this time I get to claim the byline.  

For Him,  

Meema

Lesson In The Lesson

We saved the fun stuff for our last study unit in Keaton's junior year homeschool program - Self Expression Through Art and Poetry. 

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  Because homeschool, especially in the upper grades, allows for flexibility in how a student contributes to the content of the learning curve, Keaton declared he wanted to try his hand at more realistic art. He's been doing abstract art since he was four so stepping outside of his comfort zone seemed like a sign of growth.

  
  

  We discussed the subtle differences between Realism and Impressionism and the basic fundamentals of all art, contrast, color combinations and movement, Then we got down to the point of why art is one of many ways to express an idea, just as is writing, regardless the form. Ancient cave drawings represent a  human's compulsion to record his ideas in some way more permanent than the spoken word.

  
  

  In this assignment Keaton had to consider an idea captured both in art and type keeping in mind a theme that could be represented in paint on canvas as well as words in a poem.

  
  

  'Twas definitely a learning curve and an experience out of his familiar art form.

  
  

  Once he settled on a theme of 'On Becoming', he narrowed it down to the idea of what it is like to be on the brink of leaving childhood behind with what he perceives as the light at the end of the tunnel just ahead but being so much closer now.

  
  

  As he began his art, he felt the discomfort of not knowing where to begin and was not nearly as daring and confident as he has always been when throwing paint all over the place (as my basement floor can attest). He made a sketch then began with small hesitant strokes and then stepped back, frustrated with the results. He asked for help. He needed a reminder that art is a process of trial and error, just like life. Sometimes you choose the wrong color or make the wrong stoke so you back up and admit the outcome wasn't what you had visualized. But you don't give up. You don't quit just because what you started with fell short of your expectations. 

  
  

  You keep working it and reworking until you believe it is as good as you can make it. 

  
  

  And sometimes you have to pause to clear your head before you  think you are done.

  
  

  On the day he decided it was finished he let it be known that he was disappointed. Then an interesting thing happened two days later when it was time to add his initials to the dried image. He saw it again, hanging on the wall and he was surprised.

  
  

  Human perceptions are often reordered when we see something in a different context. I have a lifelong habit of walking away from something I have created to give my brain a chance to process input and to reset. Most usually I find I was too judgmental or critical of a project in the creation process being too myopic and too determined for a specific outcome. Revisiting it some time later somehow softens the expectations and inspires new perspective.  

  
  

  I think this technique works in all areas of the human condition as well. Context matters.

  
  

  There are always hidden lessons to be gained in the process of attempting to learn. If nothing else realizing that not expecting perfection on the first try keeps us headed to the light at the end of the tunnel instead of disabling us in a stand still. 

  
  

  And what is perfection anyway? Only God is the creator of perfect. The best we as flawed humans can do is to give what is in front of us our all and then be content that we, at least, tried.  Sometimes we don't even realize that innovation is only birthed by  doing differently. I've always adhered to the old adage - those who say it cannot be done should not interrupt the one doing it.

  
  

  We will never know if that ancient human who carved stick figures on the wall of the cave he lived in was pleased with his efforts to express himself.  

  
  

  But that he was willing to try remains a lesson for us all.

  
  

  For Him,

  Meema

 

Thank You, Mom

Not only does this vid never get old, it gets better as the years scream by.

Love,

Meema

 

The Plan

 

In the beginning was the Original Plan. 

And then came the Assumptions. 

And the Assumptions were without form. 

And the Plan was dismissed as being without substance. 

And darkness was upon the face of the Women. 

And they spoke among themselves, saying, 

"It is not fair, and it stinketh." 

And the Women protested and held up signs 'My Body My Choice' and yelled, 

"It is a pail of dung, and none may abide the odor thereof." 

And the Advocates went unto their Legislators, saying, 

"It is a container of excrement, and it is very strong, 

such that none may abide by it." 

And the Legislators debated among themselves, saying, 

"It is a vessel of fertilizer, and none may abide its strength." 

And the Legislators spoke to the Judges, saying one to another, "A New Plan contains that which aids plant growth, and it is very strong." 

And the Judges then ruled that "The New Plan promotes growth, and it is very powerful." 

And the Women celebrated, shouting "It is healthcare!" 

"This New Plan will actively promote the growth and vigor 

of the world with powerful effects." 

And the world looked upon the New Plan, and saw that it was good. 

And the New Plan became Policy.

And over time the Men decided the New Plan made it better to be Women so the Policy was enhanced to determine that Men could be Women.

And the World declared it was good.

And the Women became disgruntled and began to protest that they could be Men.

And the Policy was altered to allow for Women to be Men.

Then the Altered Policy was declared to be fair and right and became the New Policy.

And then the New Policy was altered to determine that Women should no longer be Women but Birthing Persons. 

And the world declared it was good.

And satan smiled. 

For Him,

Meema