Playing for Time

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How was your Thanksgiving, or is it still ongoing? Was there pumpkin pie for breakfast this morning? It was a sweet time here, just Kim, me, and Rita, all the good food you could want, and a deep spirit of gratefulness.

Since slipping into the rarified air of a new age level this year, with 80 only four years down the road, I’ve been more acutely aware of some of the changes that accompany the process. One is that holidays, more than ever, show up as opportunities for reflection, whether we like it or not. From the Kids’ Table, to supreme kitchen duties, to the chair where the eldest in the family sits, everything… absolutely everything… changes. By this point everything that matters has made itself known, choices are clear and obvious, and life just IS.

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My 76th year has been supremely challenging in ways I couldn’t have foreseen, causing me to rethink this “getting older” idea. The sudden realization that after you finally get all the stuff stowed and redistributed from your last move ten years ago, along with other pending projects, there’s really not that much to do… has been a shock to my system. It left me berating myself for not having planned better for my “Golden Years,” because NOW WHAT? Little challenges handled, life okay for my loved ones, who am I NOW?

Thursday’s laid-back comfort and coziness brought a much-needed revelation sinking into my conscious mind: I did indeed plan wisely by cultivating the things I really love… reading, writing, solitude, my people. Those are the things that will never leave me, nor will I lose my need of them. The closest I ever came to being an athlete was six years as a cheerleader, but I do like to walk, and now I can, thanks to my beloved young neurologist. I live with a beautiful soul who loves me, feeds me, and tries to understand me. So it appears that life is good, I just need to ditch the guilt over no longer being very productive, and enjoy it. Steep hill for an anxiety-ridden eldest child with impossible personal standards, but here we go ’cause I’m not done yet.

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My friend Barlow is a beast at dealing with what life throws at him. And he’s right.

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As we open the door to the Christmas season and its various meanings around the world…