squam, september 2015
Who knew that I would love middle age? Seriously. The hell?
How come I didn't know this was waiting for me? I think it would have been nice if someone had told me that each of us has our best season and mine is gonna be in the second half of my life.
It's no secret that I am not one of those who loved the teenage years or my 20s (full disclosure: Sex In the City has exactly zero bearing on my life experience), my 30s? I believe I was in a coma - my 40s I began to wake up and voila - here I am!
And damn if my days don't have a comfort and ease that I have never known before.
Wisdom is not a sexy word. It's not something Taylor Swift is gonna sing about (at least not for another 30 years), but I can tell you wisdom is where it's at.
The slower I go, the more I see, feel and experience -- that's how I drop right into a sensation of abundance that just blows my mind.
And this is one of the reasons I have not been in this space in recent months. Who wants to hear from an old lady? Are we not the disenfranchised? Are we not boring, dull, past our last f**kable day and therefore best to have a sheet pulled over our heads?
No doubt. But here's the best part I don't fucking care.
That's the BEST part of getting old. I don't care at all. And it's not an angry or aggressive or defensive not caring - it's a big smile, rolls of dolphin laughter your opinion is lovely and it doesn't matter to me at all - not caring.
Dare I say wisdom = freedom?
And freedom is all I have ever wanted. Ever.
Below is an excerpt from The Stillmeadow Road and I have shared it a few times recently in classes and gatherings as it sums up precisely where I am at: an island of tranquility. Not because life has suddenly decided to get all calm and sweet and easy on my ass. No, life is her same wild crazy self as she has ever been but right in the heart of the storm is a quiet place. And that's where you'll find me.
Everyone, I think, needs such a place to bring a sense of magic to life. And for many, it seems impossible. But Mama used the swing in the back yard for hers. She would slip out the kitchen door and sit, swaying gently, for a little while, her shining brown eyes looking at things nobody else could see. My grandmother had a rocking chair and she retreated to that when the household was in an uproar. It was a small rocker, upholstered with needlepoint cushion. Grandmother lived with my Uncle Walter and his family and his wife's mother and the house boiled with activity and, often, with tensions. Grandmother would slip to her room and sit in the rocking chair and sometimes I would tiptoe upstairs and go in.
For she was an island of tranquility. She was very tiny and elegant. She would be wearing a grey silk dress with white lawn collar and cuffs, a cameo at the neckline. She spoke softly always, as did Mama and, like Mama, she never criticized anyone for anything. "You must do as you feel best," she always said.
I was very young when she died and I remember very little about it except the sense of strangeness when I went past her room and the little rocker was empty. The room was just a room.
"As we learn to recognize divine forces in the world, when we invoke them, then we are able to interact with the natural world as well as with the powers within ourselves."
- Awakening Shakti, Sally Kempton
- Awakening Shakti, Sally Kempton
Although it is now the third day of November, my intention is to write each of the remaining days of the month as I did this once before and it was really fun.
Thanks to Jeanine and Andrea for the jumpstart!