The Twisted Maven

Serendipity.

“Serendipity: the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for” – Merriam-Webster Dictionary

Sure, I have written a bit about the dissolution of my former career. And I can say with confidence, that yes, I am definitely happier now than I was during the majority of that 20+ year consulting career. However, the separation from that career, and from my last job in that career, was not without significant cost and a lot of feelings.

Maybe I’ll detail all those feelings and costs in a future post, but for now, suffice to say that the loss of my job, the loss of a schedule, the loss of income, the loss of status as a full-time working parent was a pretty big blow to my psyche.

But amidst my floundering and existential crisising and organizing and napping and stay-at-home momming, there have been all these “and then…” moments that can only be described as serendipity. For example, I wasn’t looking to work with kids, I didn’t have a burning desire to coach anything, I wasn’t dying to make connections within my community…and then…

Serendipity happened, because Girls on the Run happened.

Three years ago, I started my first season as a coach for Girls on the Run in my community. We were one of four pilot programs for the newly formed Girls on the Run of Greater Hartford council.

To say I was nervous at the outset is an understatement. I’d never coached a team before. I’d never spent much time with tween girls. I didn’t know the two women I’d be coaching with, although between the two of them, they seemed to be friends with EVERYONE in our small town, a fact that my reticent and introverted self found intimidating. I didn’t consider myself capable of being inspirational, garnering respect or demonstrating strength. I mean, I’d just flunked out of my career, for shits’s sake! Oh, and I swear a lot.

Within the first few weeks, my apprehension turned to excitement and anticipation, which eventually evolved into confidence and appreciation and joy. The lessons that Girls on the Run strives to teach are so spot on with this age group, and these girls REALLY got it. And my co-coaches? They were simply amazing women whom I quickly came to view as friends, and continue to do so. The same goes for every single other person I’ve had the pleasure to coach with since that first season.

You see, the Girls on the Run program isn’t just about running. That first season, and every season since, we played games and set goals and ran, jogged, or walked laps. We had serious conversations about peer pressure, teamwork, support, strength, friendship and a lot of other issues that are helpful to girls in this stage of their lives. I was amazed by the depth and maturity of their thoughts and responses to some complex issues that they have dealt with or will deal with down the road. I also enjoyed their silliness and goofing around and the way kids just act like kids, with their lack of filters, their loudness and their laughter.

As it turns out, I really enjoy being around kids. Sharing the Girls on the Run lessons with the teams I coached was such a privilege. I was not only imparting some really useful knowledge to these girls, but I was also reinforcing and applying the concepts in my own life. And I found that I am certainly able to communicate with kids without using curse words. Woot!

And then…

After three years and six seasons as a Coach for Girls on the Run, I am now the Program Coordinator for Girls on the Run of Greater Hartford. With this position, I’ve been able to meld the management, organizational and mentoring capabilities I’d gained in my previous career with my knowledge of the Girls on the Run program and my desire to make the world a better place by helping women and girls feel confident, connected, capable, and empowered.

So, serendipity. I wasn’t looking for Girls on the Run, but we found each other, and we have both benefited. I say that statement as a humble truth, without caveats or qualifications. And now it’s time to send the message, as far and wide as I can, why I am, and will continue to be, so passionate about Girls on the Run:

Because I could have totally benefited from a program like this when I was in elementary and middle school. And I have heard the same exact thing from SO MANY other women who learn about Girls on the Run!
Because research and statistics demonstrate that Girls on the Run provides positive messages and boosts academic and social success for girls.
Because my ability to communicate with my daughters has improved after we all participated in the program.
Because I have witnessed how Girls on the Run can increase not only physical fitness, but also confidence, compassion, and teamwork.
Because Girls on the Run is an inclusive program for girls; no matter their financial status, ethnicity, geographic location, disabilities, sexual orientation or athleticism. This program is for EVERY GIRL.
Because I have been gifted with so many moments that have brought me to tears and cheers, due to the unifying, strengthening and amazing things that happen with and between Girls on the Run participants, even extending beyond practices and teams.
Because being a Girls on the Run coach has positively influenced my own life. It’s boosted my self-esteem, social abilities, and my connection to my community.
Because parent feedback has been overwhelmingly positive, and parents and girls are truly learning better ways to communicate with each other.
Because the teams are able to transcend cliques and grade groups, girls are able make friends who will support each other beyond the program.
Because there’s nothing better than a girl who is confident, compassionate, connected to her community, and believes she is capable of anything!

So there’s my tale of serendipity; what’s yours? Have you ever just found yourself taking a moment and appreciating something that you weren’t necessarily seeking, but that has brought you great joy?

If you’d like to learn more about Girls on the Run Greater Hartford, including how to become a volunteer or bring a site to your community, click here. And if you’re outside of the Greater Hartford, CT area and would like to learn more about Girls on the Run, including coaching and/or bringing a team to your area, click here.

Please comment below or send me an email, I’d love to hear from you about your serendipitous moments, your experience with or questions about Girls on the Run, and anything you’d like to see in future posts! And if you like what you’ve read, please share!

Until Next Time…

Just Breathe.

The Twisted Maven

©The Twisted Maven, 2019

The Time When My Baby Turned Ten

Ten seems to be the magical age, when your children are more formed than unformed…

“There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

How is it that, having put a space of four years between my children, it seems that the milestones are occurring ever closer together? It feels like years, but also minutes, since I wrote about my oldest turning ten. That particular piece has been lost to the wind, maybe never to be retrieved. But in this case, it doesn’t matter, because my words to L the Younger don’t apply to L the Older, and vice versa.

Ten seems to be the magical age, when your children are more formed than unformed, and you can see glimpses of what their adult selves will be like, should everything go according to plan. I mean, nothing ever goes exactly according to plan, but you know what I mean. You can definitely sense who they are, in a larger sense.

My older girl, my ladybug, she has always been mature and not here for any bullshit. She is the kid who couldn’t wait to turn ten, then 13, now she’s 14 and in high school and I swear she’d skip right to college and beyond if she had the choice. Her personality was largely formed by the age of four, and I recognized then that her reticence, her determination that things were solidly either RIGHT or WRONG, and her ability to sense and absorb the thoughts and emotions of those around her would serve her well as she grew into adolescence and adulthood. I still feel that way. But navigating these teen years…well, that’s another post for another day, when I’m able to speak from a place of calm perspective. And that’s definitely not today.

But oh…my second child. My butterfly, who will extend affection to anyone who needs it, who only wants to see you smile, who wants to hug the world, who also easily absorbs the thoughts and emotions of those around her, but uses that gift very differently from her sister. Instead of using her sensitivity to lead, guide and advise, she uses it to comfort and humor those around her. She’s got charisma for days, along with a great capacity for love, a goofy sense of humor, and the desire to leave everyone she encounters a little bit happier than they were before.

However, she also wants what she wants exactly when she wants it, has no sense of time or urgency, and does not deal well with raised voices or even mildly harsh words.

She’s the emotional gauge of our household. If there’s any tension, she picks up on it, feels it acutely, and will act out because of it. If there’s joy, she embraces it wholeheartedly. If there’s anger, she gets sullen. If there is laughter, she’s right there in the middle of it. And she mostly does this without any knowledge of the context of these emotions.

She knows when I’m hurting, emotionally and/or physically, no matter my attempts to conceal that from her. Without fail, those are the moments that she comes to me with hugs, an invitation to read with her, and the need to be physically close to me.

She engages me in conversation, and always, and I mean ALWAYS, wants to talk about what’s going on in her world. School, American Ninja Warrior, Harry Potter, and America’s Got Talent are her favorite topics of discussion. Somehow, she makes these conversations engaging and analytical, as well as never-ending.

She is also an enthusiastic participant in activities outside of academics. She started playing the flute last year, and practices almost daily without being told. Sidenote: when her sister started taking guitar lessons, there was a demand that she stick to a practice schedule, and consequences when she didn’t. And lo and behold, she lost the desire to practice and her love for the instrument. So when L the Younger started with the flute, I let her set her practice schedule, and her love for music and the desire to improve has come along naturally. Lesson learned.

She just started her 5th season of Girls on the Run, which is also the first season that I haven’t been a coach. And by all reports, she is doing amazing, and likely much better than she was when I coached her team. She also loves basketball and lacrosse, mostly due to her sister’s influence, but I hope she embraces both of those sports going forward for herself.

Because she is my second-born, and because she’s still shorter than everyone else in my house, it’s sometimes a challenge not to think of her as a “little kid”, incapable of doing much of anything without my assistance. But, as she reminds me frequently, she is absolutely capable of doing many things without my assistance.

I can’t help but think, often, that I don’t deserve these two children to whom I gave birth to. I strive daily to be a good role model, a source of wisdom and comfort, and a good mom. I feel like they have outpaced me, already, in intelligence and in their desire to succeed in making the world a better place.

So to my “little” one, to my butterfly, to the one I wished for, for so long: these past 10 years have flown by, but I am grateful that I paused long enough to breathe in your baby moments, acknowledge the milestones that you’ve achieved thus far, had the ability to set a unsatisfactory career aside and participate more in your and your sister’s lives, and to show you what can be achieved when you follow your passions.

Also, I don’t want to put forth any platitudes about success, because they are mostly tied to monetary gain, and I want you to define for yourself what success looks like. I do hope, however, that success looks like exploring and finding what interests you, working hard, and being satisfied that you are a good human.

And lastly, thank you for all the love you give me, the challenges you throw my way, the time we spend together, your smarts, your chaos, your laughter, and for just being the best you that you can be.

I love you to the moon and back. Twice.

Until Next Time…

Just Breathe

The Twisted Maven

Twisted Book Reviews

“If there is a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, you must be the one to write it.” – Toni Morrison

As a person who writes, and as a person who is fascinated by the human experience, there is little more precious to both of those interests than books. Aside from being alive and able to participate in both of those ventures, that is.

I have been blogging for several years, here and in other forums, passing along my opinions and truth and attempts at humor. But I’ve also been working for years on poor to mediocre poetry and bits and pieces of fiction that I am hoping to cobble into something publishable one day.

The one piece of advice that I have seen directed to aspiring authors, over and over and over again, from successful authors, advisors, editors and publishers: If you want to write, YOU MUST READ. A LOT.

Well guess what? I read. A lot. Not everyone does, and not everyone needs to, I suppose, although I wish everyone would.

I belonged to a book club once upon a time, made up mainly of women who belonged to a local country club, which I had neither the finances nor the desire to join. I was kind of shuttled through the back door by a couple of friends who knew I loved to read. And while I enjoyed the books and the wine and company…it just wasn’t quite my thing. Maybe it was because of my propensity for cursing and making inappropriate jokes… and to be honest, that was probably it, because that kind of stuff didn’t seem to fly with most of the ladies. Also, I didn’t get the references to their sandal or handbag designers, private schools, high end stores or country club gossip. I kind of felt like a novelty, like, Oh! Here’s L’s friend! The one who says “fuck” a lot! Isn’t she refreshing? Just, um…don’t engage her in too much conversation, especially if the kids are around, you know?

ANYWAY…after I birthed child #2, I dropped out of the book club, because I just couldn’t fit anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary in my life, so social engagements and volunteer work and anything besides work and kid stuff just had to go.

Now that my kids are older and I have a bit more time on my hands…no, I haven’t rejoined or joined any regular, in-person meeting, wine drinking and cheese consuming book clubs. I know there are clubs available through my local library and community, but really…I have learned to own my awkward and embrace the fact that I am just not comfortable going around asking to be part of things. But if I were to join another book club, it would have to be because I was extended an (preferably in cursive and hand-delivered) invitation to join a club that would provide someone with my personality a comfortable space, and to which I could be an equally contributing member.

That said, I do belong to a social media book group, which has helped me find some of the best books I’ve ever read, as well as providing me the ability to recommend, send and receive books with other members. This group also allows me to search, read and discuss books while sitting on my couch, in whatever I’m wearing, sans makeup or any other accoutrements. It’s social without social pressure. And yeah, I know, I need to get out of the house more often. You know I’m not going to extend myself, so send me an invite already. Or don’t. Cause I’m good sitting right here.

I needed to say all of that in order to get to this list. The Twisted Maven’s Partial List of Books Everyone Should Read and Why. Please peruse, and feel free to add your own opinions, recommendations, and invitations to join your book club (online or in person) below:

The Omnivore’s Dilemma – This book changed my entire relationship with food. Before this book, I gave zero fucks about the source of my food and barely understood the relationship between food and how the body uses it. Now, I do…give plenty of fucks about the source of my food and have a great understanding of how food=fuel. And how everyone should eat more plants.

The Storied Life of A.J. Fiskry – Oh goodness, what a story. I don’t know why, but I seem to be drawn to fiction about cranky older men connecting or reconnecting with their humanity and sensitivity. This is an unusual story about an unusual man, and thoroughly enjoyable.

The 100 year Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared – Another piece of fiction about a cranky older, but really older, man. The main character is kind of like a Forest Gump, but Swiss, and therefore a lot of the history told through his experiences is very different from U.S. history.

11/22/63 – This was the first Stephen King novel I read, as I had long held the assumption that Mr. King was “just” a horror novelist who “just” wrote to appeal to the most pedestrian of readers. Turns out, I had missed a lot of amazing writing. This novel is long, includes a lot of historical events, and while yes, Mr. King is definitely King of the Macabre, he is a master of his trade as an author. This novel was so compelling and interesting and crazy and the work of a genius. I’ve since read several of his books, including “On Writing”, and have been thoroughly entertained, educated, shocked and inspired.

My Life on the Road – Gloria Steinhem has been the face of feminism since the 1960s, and has lead such an amazing life. The best parts of this book, for me, were her involvement in the feminist movement from the beginning, as well as her analysis of how our two main political parties have changed since the civil rights movement (spoiler alert: the “party of Lincoln” has been working up to their current iteration since getting evangelicals involved in the 1960s and 1970s).

On The Come Up – If you read or saw “The Hate U Give”, then you MUST read this book by Angela Davis. There is exactly zero that I can relate to personally with her character’s ages, environments and aspirations, but hell YES I can relate to the struggles of wanting to be a good human. And she gives such vivid descriptions about neighborhoods that are different but not so different from my own.

Dig – One of the best novels I’ve ever read. Period. It’s about family, youth, racism, death, fear, mysticism and love. I’ve never read a book quite like it, and I lack words to describe it, except that you should definitely read this book. And I want to take The Freak into my arms and love her forever.

Educated – I’ve seen a lot of comparisons to “The Glass Castle” with this book. And I could see the parallels in the first few chapters, but damn if things don’t get really fucked up, to the point where I don’t even know how any of the people in this memoir survived. Broader than “The Glass Castle” in the way it deals with personal complexities and individual conflicts.

The Last Reunion of the All Girl Filling Station – Fannie Flagg deserves so much credit than she’s been given as a storyteller, despite her name that makes my kids giggle. If you’re of a certain age, you certainly remember the movie “Fried Green Tomatoes”, based on a novel by Flagg. The book is better. And this book explores the complex relationships between mothers and daughters, family secrets, and the fortitude of women across the decades.

Lamb – One of my ALL TIME FAVORITE BOOKS. It’s the story of Jesus in the in-between years, as told by his best friend, Biff. Irreverent, to say the least. But it encompasses all religions and is laugh out loud funny in it’s attempt to explain what Jesus was up to between childhood and adulthood.

The Alchemist – just a classic tale about learning to follow your heart and listen to your dreams.

To Kill a Mockingbird – If one reads this book now, it’s still as chilling and suspenseful and entertaining as it was when it was published. Classic right vs. wrong, with losses on both sides, with the side of righteousness ultimately prevailing.

Mohawk – Richard Russo is another author that has tackled the worlds of cranky older men, as well as the worlds of disturbed youth and everyone caught in the middle. He is an amazing storyteller, and I will read everything he publishes at least twice. His ability to juxtapose real human feelings with horrific displays of human indifference is incredible.

I Know This Much is True – Wally Lamb is an excellent storyteller, and this tale of twin brothers rivals East of Eden by Steinbeck. Maybe I have a soft spot for Mr. Lamb because his books are set in Connecticut, but honestly, they are all incredibly far-reaching and epic and funny and heartbreaking.

The Handmaids Tale – Well, I suppose this book resonated with me, along with a gazillion other women in today’s society. It was shocking, unthinkable, but now an abstract scenario that takes up space in many women’s minds. Two things I’ve learned: one, I will be shipped off to The Colonies, and two, this novel was mainly directed at a dystopian nightmare that applies mainly to white women.

And the last book I’m going to mention is “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks”. Henrietta Lacks was a poor black woman who was dying, and whose cervical tissue cells were taken without her knowledge or permission in the 1950’s. Those cells, known as HeLa, have been duplicated and sold and used for really important scientific and medical advances, including vaccines, genetic studies, treatment of viruses, and human fertilization methods. However, her immediate family and descendants were not privy to the use or value of HeLa. This is an incredible tale of racial injustice, medical research and ethics, human suffering, medical triumph and serious moral debate.

All of these books, and so many more, have inspired me as an aspiring and actual writer, a human, and a lover of books. Please do comment with those books that have influenced you as any of the above.

“For a true writer, each book should be a new beginning where he tries again for something that is beyond attainment. He should always try for something that has never been done or that others have tried and failed. Then sometimes, with great luck, he will succeed.” – Ernest Hemingway

Until Next Time…

Just Breathe.

The Twisted Maven.

©The Twisted Maven, 2019

Floating With the Wind

“You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need” – The Rolling Stones

If you’ve been following along, you know that I had a mutual break-up with my career a few years back. If you haven’t been following along…I had a mutual break-up with my career a few years back.

Immediately following said break-up, I became what I never thought was possible. I was a stay-at-home parent. It was fun, it was frustrating, it was liberating, it was frightening, it was delightful, and it was humbling, to say the least. While I did my best in this new role as an unemployed spouse and mother, I concurrently made efforts to find employment, since our household income had just been cut in half.

I applied to countless positions similar to the one I had held in my former occupation. I had also applied to countless job postings that were somewhat similar in qualifications to my former occupation. In addition, I applied to anything that sounded interesting, that may have been slightly related to what I did in my former occupation. And, I applied for jobs that sounded okay, for which I had no relevant experience, but may have led to decent discounts (in other words, retail jobs).

There were some “thanks but no thanks” emails, there were a few freelance writing and editing jobs that I was able to do periodically for very little compensation, and there was complete radio silence with respect to most of the other jobs I applied to.

I will be honest; the loss of my career, which had defined how I had spent most of the previous two decades, caused me to become somewhat unmoored. I wasn’t sure of who I was, who I should be, what I should do, what I could do. So when I say “somewhat unmoored”, I mean my psyche really fucking suffered.

And then…

Serendipity happened.

I became an advocate and coach for Girls on the Run. In case you don’t know, Girls on the Run is a non-profit organization dedicated to the physical and emotional well-being of girls during the time of their lives when they need it most, from 3rd to 8th grade.

And as it turned out, being a coach for Girls on the Run enabled me to hold onto ME. Instead of being completely aimless and unscheduled, I was able to spend time every week planning sessions and implementing them with my fellow coaches. Which enabled me to use those few planned hours as a basis from which to make the rest of my weekly schedule.

I was even able to secure some part-time employment as a substitute teacher and as a facilitator of after-school and summer science programs, which (after so long of working in an office and far away from even my own children), I found surprisingly enjoyable.

And then…

Earlier this year, and after applying on a whim, I found employment that was really meaningful. I was working at one of the first jobs I truly loved, teaching and caring for the toddler set, which was so educational and uplifting.

Shortly after I started that job, an opportunity crossed my path. And I almost didn’t acknowledge it, because I was in this position where I loved getting up for work every single day, and loved my coworkers–both the adult ones as well as the under-5 set.

But this opportunity that happened…I decided to dust off my resume and apply. Why? Because the little voice in my head, the same one that had led me to seek out a job at the daycare, told me that it was time, once again, to step out of my comfort zone.

What I realized during my pursuit of this opportunity, is that being a coach for Girls on the Run had impacted my thinking and worldview more than I had understood previously. I no longer dwelled on feelings of self-doubt and unworthiness, and had been able to silence negative self-talk. Instead, I was existing in a state where I felt confident and joyful in what I was doing every day. Working in the preschool/daycare also lifted me. Being able to show up and give my best to tiny humans who deserve nothing less, was an incredibly satisfying and healing experience.

Once I learned to quiet the noise that negative thoughts and feelings can bring, I found that the path was clear. It must be noted that if I didn’t get this particular job, I was still happy with what I was doing, every single day. And I don’t discount the contribution that made toward my confidence.

With respect to this new opportunity that came along, I found myself able to focus on the attributes that made me an excellent candidate, and the skills and gifts I could bring to this position.

And yes, I did get the job. I’ll talk more about that in a future post, because I have a LOT to say about it!

So for now, I want to encourage everyone to listen to that little voice that speaks to you on occasion. I had stifled that voice for so long, in pursuit of a career that ultimately didn’t want me, and the subsequent floundering and existential crises that followed.

I’m sure many of you know this already, but it sure has taken me a damn long time to figure it out for myself: just like unhappiness, self-neglect and doubt can feed on each other to bring you further down, the opposite is also true.

It can take a monumental effort to overcome and put yourself back on the path to fulfillment and joy, and I’m still very much working on the achieve my best self. I’d say I’ve managed to pull myself up to “doing pretty good”, which is tremendous progress from the low point of “everything sucks and I’m not getting out of bed today”.

A very wise person once told me, when I was at that low point and confided how I was bogged down in my own emotional and mental crap, “Just do one thing. One thing per day. And then you’ll find that once you get that one thing done, you’ll be able to do another thing. The hardest part is just starting to do that one thing, but you can do it. You can.”

That wise person was right. And if I could do it, you can too. So again, listen to that little voice, take a step outside your comfort zone, float with the wind,and see what happens. I believe in you!

Until next time…

Just Breathe.

The Twisted Maven

Middle Age Range Changes (or, what is this bullsh*t??)

“Evolving into a middle-aged person is quite interesting if we can understand what it means. I would like to think it meant being a bit sure of what I want.” – Dawn French

Before starting to write this piece, I researched the definition of “middle age”. One, to delineate an age range, and two, to make doubly sure that I actually fall into that category, being that I’m still solidly in my 40’s for a bit. Not a long bit, just a little bit, but still…a bit.

Now that I’m convinced by my research that I do, indeed, qualify as being middle aged, I started to ponder what differentiates my age bracket from my past (“young adult”) and future (“senior citizen”) classifications.

This whole train of thought was brought about by my last visit to my optometrist. When I turned 40, he told me that I could expect my eyesight to degenerate, and soon. At that point, I only needed glasses for distance, and the prescription was mild.

I thought I was defying the aging process for several years after that visit, because my eyesight barely changed. Then, the day of reckoning came with respect to my eyesight, along with my 30th High School reunion. Hence the pondering about middle age, and the recognition that I’m experiencing things that pretty much define middle age.

So here is my more or less comprehensive list of the kind of bullshit that goes on once one reaches a certain age:

My eyesight went from pretty good to holding everything at arms’ length in order to read it or squinting.
And I mean everything; school forms, prescription bottles, menus, books, everything.
I now wear “progressive lenses” in my glasses, which means that I can now see the car dashboard and read street signs simultaneously. But it also means I have to tilt my head dramatically downward in order to walk down the stairs without falling. And my chins have some issues with that.
I’ve noticed I’ve been saying “what?” a lot more frequently. I don’t know if that’s because I attended concerts in my youth with no regard for protecting my hearing, worked around loud machinery for a number of years without earplugs, or if I just don’t care about most of what is happening around me until I realize that I might have missed some crucial information.
My daughter is now taller than me and my mother is now shorter than me.
I realized while on vacation and wearing a bathing suit every day, I don’t have much body hair to deal with anymore. I also realized that it could totally be my failing eyes tricking me. So, um, I’m sorry if it looks like I’m storing squirrels under my arms. I can’t get an arms length away to see what’s actually going on there.
The above also came with the realization that most of the hair on my body seems to have migrated to my chin.
I’m fortunate enough to have a best friend who pointed me to products to take care of said chin hair.
Also, I’ve reached the point in my life where a little body hair doesn’t bother me, especially now that I seem (again, could be due to degrading eyesight) to have less of it. And once late October comes, that razor gets tossed out of the window. I live in New England, I need all the warmth I can get.
The chances of me peeing a little bit when I cough, laugh or sneeze are pretty high.
When I google any kind of malaise I’m feeling, it always points to cancer, lupus, allergies, and/or death.
I don’t go to the doctor unless my google searches point to cancer, lupus, allergies, and/or death…but only if death seems especially imminent.
Moving from sitting on the floor to standing requires some sort of mental preparation and vocal self-encouragement.
I’m tired all of the time, and yet, I can’t sleep.
Related, caffeine is an absolute necessity immediately upon starting my day, otherwise I will stare blankly into space in a semi-conscious state. Until said caffeine is consumed and takes effect.
Are these hot flashes or is everywhere exceptionally warm, all the time? I’m not sure.
I grouse about a lot of things now, like how fast people drive, how loud a neighbor is, taxes, and “kids today”.
Smelling babies is a perfectly acceptable activity.
The fear of encountering dangerous wildlife, including bears, ticks, spiders, bugs, skunks, turkeys, geese, flying assholes that sting, teenagers and rattlesnakes, anywhere outside of my home, has become a thing.
As has the untimely or maybe timely illnesses and deaths of peers and their parents. As a friend put it recently, “I guess we are just at that age where people start dying.” It’s not a pleasant thing, it’s actually an awful thing, but yet…it’s a thing.

And the list can go on, of course. But I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the fact that I have more love and kindness in my heart than I ever dreamed possible during my younger years. And that I care more deeply about social and political issues now than I did even 10 years ago.

I’ve gone from the abstract thought 20 years ago that maybe I’d be a good parent, to actively trying, every day, to achieve that goal; and I strive to be a good role model and affect the world in a positive way as a mentor and coach and teacher, and in just trying to be a good human.

In that vein, I’ve also accepted that I’m flawed and have some issues and baggage, some of which are of my own creation, but all of which are mine to deal with.

And perhaps most importantly, I’ve realized that objects and money and status was never a goal of mine; rather, what I give is so much more important than what I get. What I do, NOT what I own, is what truly matters to me.

While the younger version of me might never have understood those thoughts and concepts, I hope that the older version of me will be proud and satisfied with my decisions in this middle age.

At least during the moments when I’m not screaming at people to GET OFF MY LAWN!

Until Next Time…

Just Breathe.

The Twisted Maven