What’s Hot To Trot About Aging–And What’s Not

Aging gets a shitty rap. Now that I am getting old enough to be weathering the storms of perimenopause and it’s absolute weirdness, I can understand why.  Actually I understood why it gets a shitty rap quite a long time ago when my grandparents and dad died. I am here to tell ya: aging ain’t all a turd fest. It truly has benefits, and in some cases, many of them! Come along with me while I tell you a tale of what I dig about no longer being a “spring chicken.”

HOT TO TROT

Dude, the wisdom you gain as you watch those birthdays tick by is astounding! (If you are doing it right. Otherwise, you can remain a jackass minus any common sense until you croak.) How to make this wisdom yours? Learn from your “mistakes”.  I screwed up plenty, plenty, PLENTY of times years ago. I still do! However, these snafus are nothing but an opportunity dressed in an ugly outfit from Walmart.  Being an avid reader has served me well. I love both chick lit (Jennifer Weiner, anyone??) and more thought provoking tomes from Daisaku Ikeda, Dalai Lama, Mary Anne Williamson, Wayne Dyer, and on and on. Observing the tomfoolery of others and not engaging in the mistakes (opportunities) they created has increased my knowledge.

Zero fucks to give. I swear, this is one of my fave benefits! Truly, you learn that only certain people, places, objects, etc. are the only worthy investment of your precious fucks. I actually shaved my head this spring. That took some major lady balls because being a dame with a shaven noggin really flies in the face of what is attractive and acceptable for a female (at least here in the middle finger of the Bible Belt). Damn, I looked ugly after the first 10 days, but oh well. My hubs and I were both good with it. There really isn’t much joyous about perimenopause. But the decline in estrogen tends to render us less “people pleasing” as we march closer to the era when we can toss our tampons away with gleeful abandon. ( I am throwing a party when that day finally arrives!) So I perpetually look on the bright side of my hormonal nonsense.

Living the “less is more” motto feels superb!! Acquiring more stuff lacks appeal now. Stuff has to be cleaned, stored, organized……the hell with all that. I would rather possess only apparel, knick knacks, and the like which really knock my socks off with squealing delight.  I am learning to adopt the same mindset with time and energy management. Even though I live in Indianapolis, IN, there are still a plethora of classes, concerts, engaging speakers, and spiritual experiences in which to revel. Learned the hard way over and over again that I possess only a finite amount of energy, and as I earn more wrinkles, I routinely assess all the available intellectual and entertaining yummies and decide what really matters.

I absolutely under no circumstances allow myself around people whose energy utterly sucks. My life is way, way too short to spend it with perpetually jacked up individuals.

Having wrinkles and sagging bags under my eyes seems to guarantee that I never get hit on these days. Thank ya, Buddha!!! Once I lost weight in my mid 20’s, I was often the subject of a ton of unwanted attention. It was obnoxious, and at times, frightening. Being stalked down the street by a menacing asshole, yelling “Bitch, pay attention to me. You fucking bitch….”Sorry to tell ya, Chump, this type of verbiage tends to send women scrambling the opposite direction rather than convincing them to engage in conversation. Do I miss the attention? About as much as I would miss slathering hemorrhoids with Preparation H.

NOT HOT TO TROT

The aforementioned perimenopause. I am actually having a much easier time than other chicks, but still…..*sigh* Every day, I ingest enough products designed to keep me functioning and sane  to choke a horse. The freaking enormous belly and hips that I have to fight like hell to keep at bay can kiss my petooty also.

One of the things I hate most is the physical death of my family members. OUCH!!!! That has been hell. Yes, I can still connect with them energetically and converse, but hugs, phone calls…that is all gone.

Bodies cease producing abundant collagen. This one royally pisses me off. I used to be so limber that I could wiggle into poses that looked like I learned them in a circus freak show. Now such poses strain my muscles. Grrrr……Intense stretching feels so mighty fine. I do ingest an expensive collagen from my chiropractor, and it helps, but geez. What a crock.

Adulting in general. Life insurance, disability insurance, IRAs, wills, investments……yawn. Boring, drop dead dull ways to spend money. Yet, we do it anyway.

However you slice it and dice it, aging is most doable when you can maintain a sense of humor, practice gratitude, release attachments, and stay positive. Kinda like everything else in life. The only alternative is to be 6 feet under (or in an urn). I tend to appreciate my 50 year old self and life even more when I remember how many of my high school classmates and younger friends are now out of the body. I am fortunate to still be here, so I will gladly take the hot to trot with the not so hot to trot.

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Not All Who Wander Are Lost ……

Well, then, sometimes those who wander are lost….up the proverbial shit creek minus a paddle with nary a clue about how to navigate the boat.

Either state of being, wandering just for giggles, or wandering because of utter cluelessness, is all jolly and good. Our society places BEAUCOUP importance on achieving. BE ALL YOU CAN BE!!! Preferably, as fast as your ass can get it done, too! In my younger days, I was all over this. It was important to always have a plan of action and to be sternly executing said plan. I found this be a bogus way of living, at least for myself, because I was very hard core and all GRRRRR!!!!! about it.

Becoming an intuitive and aging have redefined how I get anywhere in life these days.

Yes, I do still make plans, yes, I do still have a “to-do list”, and yes, I do still have my methods of achieving what I want out of my time in this delightful bag of bones I call my body.

My attitude toward the whole affair has transformed dramatically, however. I released my attachment to “knowing” what my direction was, what was “supposed” to be happening six months from now. I discovered the bliss of listening fully to my intuition and spirit guides, and letting it all just “be.”

For example, I have known for quite some time that there are big changes coming for my business. I have been so content to listen to the clues, savor the ride, and acknowledge what works well and what doesn’t work at all in my career.  All the while, I have been calm and interested in my percolating ideas, yet not throwing a hissy fit about figuring it all out and devising a strategy to get the new plans rolling asap. It will show itself in the perfect timing, with everything I need, if I simply pay attention, meditate and follow my Buddhist practice.

I feel like I am wandering, exploring the uncharted terrain of my potential. And that is fine by me. I am not in a hurry to do anything except pay off my damn student loans.

If you are the planny type and get all flustered and fartknockery if your path isn’t going according to your wishes, slow down. Chill out. You will find your way, and you can do it easily and gracefully, or you can be a monumental spaz. Your choice.

P.S. I didn’t get all chill overnight, nor am I this way in every aspect of my life. Like you, I am a work in progress.

 

Attachments: Part Uno

Attachments come in a multitude of sizes, energies, and so on. Some we may benefit from, such as the attachment (clasp) on the back of one’s bra. Ol’  boulder holder wouldn’t hoist those boobies up if it weren’t for that clasp! But, attachments can really suck and drain us if we aren’t observant of our minds and that to which they cling.

Many of us have an attachment to physical items, such as caffeine (GUILTY!!), chocolate (GUILTY), and _________________________ (fill in the blank with that thing you get way cranky  about when it’s not around). One of my other physical attachments is to the gym. I morph into a snarling hag if I miss my exercise.

Sometimes we become attached to manifesting a certain outcome, such as receiving a coveted job promotion. It can be that there is a situation occurring in our lives, and for us to be happy campers, it MUST turn out the way we think is best.

I asked my Facebook friends what attachment meant to them, and this is a response which sums it up brilliantly:

“Dependent on something or someone or even an ideology and the feeling or longing to possess that person or ideology or object. I know it’s attachment when I am unwilling to let go.”
And many times, that attachment is not serving your highest good and greatest joy.
Basically,  you are up shit creek without a paddle because you are reliant on _________________ (fill in the blank with your favorite) to make you happy! “I have to have green tea in the morning to wake up–it can be no other way!,” barks my Attachment Monster.
Like right now, for example, I am attached GREATLY to the idea of figuring out how to get the rest of this blog to type in the font used at the beginning. I have NO freaking clue how to do that!  “Grrrrrrr!!!!,” growls Attachment Monster.
I am choosing to chill out my Attachment Monster by deciding that I am not benefitting from this attachment to font style, and thusly I can finish the dang blog in a calm mindset.
Basically, attachments can keep you stuck in very rigid patterns. Rigid patterns are typically no fun.
If a thought pattern (attachment) ain’t serving you, what the hell are you doing getting wound up about it? I was able to easily convert my distress about the font into a laissez-faire attitude since banging my head against the wall trying to figure out WordPress isn’t serving me.
Many of us are perfectionists, an attachment sure to make one nuttier than squirrel shit.  My therapist led me to see that good enough is good enough–I didn’t come here to be perfect, my hair can be a bit sloppy and life as we know it will still churn forth.
There. I just saved you some money in counseling.
When you find yourself with panties in a twist because your attachment to whatever is highly unpleasant, remember that you can choose to release it. You can find peace by remembering that alternative outcomes may be jolly good after all.
So bombs away with discarding your attachments!

Do It Anyway!!!

So my spirit guide Diana told me a few weeks ago that I would write a book which will make me a lot of $$$$.  To this I responded, “WHATTT???” I experienced extreme incredulousness. I am, after all, a woman with the sense of humor of a 10 year old boy, and I grew up surrounded by a bevy of corn fields. Now you may be thinking that my first problem isn’t not believing that I am capable of doing this. You may be thinking, “Your first problem, ya silly beotch, is that you are staring at the air, head tilted like a dog, and talking to an invisible chick!” If so, oh well. Your opinion of me is none of my business. But my opinion of me and my capabilities is 100% my business. It is obvious I need to get my head out of my ass and discern why in the heck I believed I wasn’t capable of achieving this feat.

All of us have a story we tell ourselves regarding our own lives. I am this, I am that, I can only do this much, and NO WAY will I ever do THAT!!! That sucker isn’t written in stone,not even one letter of that bitch is written in stone. Your inner programing stems from your upbringing and a pecker load of other factors. Well, why the dickens CAN’T  you do something vast, exhilarating, something that makes your knees knock and your heart pound, and your joy juice flow like Niagra Falls?  Every journey begins with one step. I say it is time to get your ass in gear and get stepping!

Continue reading “Do It Anyway!!!”