As a young woman I mostly remember feeling too fat, too rubinesque, too tall, too feminine… I was an independent and carefree spirit who didn’t need anyone to be happy on this planet and looking so striking made me nervous.
Looking back at the pictures of my youth, I see a stunning and beautiful smiling face looking at the camera, always laughing and having a good time.
Now that I’m older I feel more vain and aware of my looks, as if what is left of my “beauty” is fading fast.
I cried and cried because here I am, feeling vain about my youthful beauty that I never appreciated, while the women and men who have lost their hair and their carefree existence thanks to cancer, have nothing to look forward too.
And then I cried some more because I’ve recently lost my dear Aunt Ellie to cancer, and Frannie, and Melinda’s mom…and I just have to accept that I need to fall apart once in a while. I like to cry, and have been finding it hard to let go lately.
So I’m drying my eyes and I’m feeling more fragile and more human and more thankful for this gift called life.
Because that is exactly what it is – a present every single day.
Thank You to those at the Mimi Foundation for doing this project.
We had some friends over yesterday, and I had to find out if anyone knew what Labor Day was for.
They were all under the age of 30, and they didn’t know. One laughed and said it was a day off – Ha Ha! And so it is for many of us.
At one point, at the end of our brunch together, the smart phones were taken out to “share” some things, you know, funny YouTube clips, and the latest and greatest “app’s” for doing things that you can just as easily do without one.
There is one app that if you hold your finger over the place where you look to take pictures, you can get your heart rate.
Who cares? Then they were asked which were their favorite games, and the energy level went up in the room. Games. A toy in your pocket or bra. Nice.
Share it – maybe the meaning will go viral, and it won’t have anything to do with the internet, just maybe it will just make a lot of people informed, and no one will know about it except the ones that got it.
What else? I’m thinking about getting a new car, and all of them have this capability to plug your smart phone into it, and VOILA, you get to hear and talk and speak without having to hold the phone. I know, this has been around for a while, but now they say, it really works.
I guess I am too connected to a computer with work to want to be connected in a new and questionably better way.
When you think about it, isn’t a smart phone just another computer?
It certainly is not a phone, cuz it turns out that most people I know don’t use it as a phone. No, mostly they play games on them, or visit porno sites. I don’t know why I was surprised to find out that most internet activity is about sex in some way or another.
Or they “text” or type short snippets of grammar to communicate with someone that is usually a family member, like their mother or father. And the mother or father has to text, they say, in order to communicate with their children. And since it is hard to type on a leeetle teeny pad, the smart phones came along, and the iPad’s, to make it easier. Hmmm.
I have one friend my age who is no longer comfortable speaking on the phone; she said it makes her nervous. She only likes texting and emailing. Nice. She doesn’t like to interact in person any more. Awesome. I hope that we can get her to loosen up in a month or so when we have the annual get-together! Karen, I hope you are reading this.
I just love my flip phone, and will try to get the same one on eBay, which is where I was gifted the last one (thank you Sandesh). I am not ready to become number and dumber holding something with a name that is supposed to make me feel cooler and “smarter”!
Ok, I hope you have a good day off, maybe you were able to sleep in like we did; kind of like a lazy Sunday, only it’s Monday – LABOR DAY!
And maybe you will think about how today is the day to be thankful that THE WORKERS of this country got together and fought for better working conditions when what was normal were sweat shops and minors working. Kind of like how it is in China right now.
I will go relax on a hammock outside and read a book. Not on Kindle, no, one that I can hold and touch and feel.
Oh, and check out this clip below. I really feel like the girl who is trying to relate. It made me happy in a way to see that she was not over 50!
I’m back after taking a little break from posting on Oops50. It’s not that I didn’t have anything to share; the truth is that so much has been going on that I didn’t know what to post! I decided to see how long we’ve been doing this blog just now, and to my surprise, it’s been over 3 years that me and my friends, Annice and Jane, have been sharing what is relevant to us in the moment here on this site. Wow. Three years is a long time! The posts are longer than a comment on FaceBook; longer than a tweet on Twitter, and longer than a text. This is my way of connecting and I just want to say thanks for reading our posts!
We went to see a movie the other night. It was so much fun and enjoyable that you should go see it too. It’s the new one with Judi Dench, one of my all-time favorite actresses. Whatever movie comes out with her in it, I go see it. The same is true for any movie with Meryl Streep, Kate Winslet, Kevin Kline, and Johnny Depp. I don’t like to do a lot of review checking before I go see something with them in it; I like to be surprised. I just knew that this new movie was shot mostly in India. It’s called, “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”.
It’s about some old folks who see an ad for a retirement place in Jaipur, India that sounds like a good place to retire. They don’t know each other in the beginning, but become close when they all arrive at The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel for the Elderly and Beautiful.
The sights of India stir something in me that makes me smile. Unpredictability, long waits, dangerous bus rides with people giving birth and dying around me, a feeling of being at home and relaxed that I have never been able to touch in the US.
Interestingly, what hit me at first was how both Maggie Smith and Judi Dench look old. I mean, really old. Not the Hollywood-face-lift type of old. It was shocking to see their faces without the Photoshop touch ups that one sees on every single magazine cover in the checkout line at the grocery store of every single actor or actress. It’s a pity, really, that as a society, we can’t take the truth of getting older. After a short while, I started to enjoy seeing these women as they are, and started to find them beautiful to look at. Refreshing even. The inner beauty of being who one is. And they are old. So that is how they should look!
I visited India many times in the 80’s and 90’s to see my guru. And at the end of the film, I wanted to jump on a plane to go again. There is definitely a fascination that India holds for me. After twenty-some odd years since my last visit, I know that I would find cell phone towers everywhere (I’ve heard they are in many of the rickshaws now!), and I hate cell phone towers. It wouldn’t be the same, of course. I mean, my guru died in ’91, so if I went, it really would be to explore.
Such good actors…take a break and go see this movie; it’s like going to India without the hassle. And I have a feeling you will be smiling when you leave the cinema.
Sometimes I feel like my husk, my body, is getting ready to shed, leaving only “me”—my core, my soul, my essence—behind. And where will I be then? Or maybe the question should be, what happens to the core “me”?
Some would say heaven or hell. Others would say the essence returns to the universe in some other form. Others say that “I” will be born again, perhaps as some lower being, perhaps as a more enlightened being. Some might believe that, after death on this planet, the soul returns to somewhere in space where it originated.
All those ideas are attractive to me in some ways, but not completely satisfactory. I have a very hard time “believing” in anything that takes place after I’m gone from this earth. Even though I take on faith that electricity makes the light bulb glow, and I can’t see electricity. But then, almost everyone agrees (has been taught) about electricity. But not everyone agrees about what happens after the body, the husk, has been shucked.
My body, the body I’ve never been all that fond of, has proved to be much more resilient than I every imagined it could be. It has survived, although with considerable wear and tear, numerous and considerable assaults—from chemotherapy and radiation and immune disease and countless episodic drugs for infections and “conditions” like gastrointestinal upsets of various kinds.
I should be more appreciative of this body, this husk that protects the real me, as best it can. There’s only so much an old husk (I am 70, after all) can do to beat off the many threats to its integrity. There comes a time when rejuvenation, or return to the original state, is no longer possible. That’s where my body is now. And I find myself (the real me) frustrated with this.
I miss the good old days when I could come down with something and then get over it. There’s no getting over it anymore. As one of my friends says, now it’s just all patch, patch, patch. Making do with the “new normal”, which changes frequently as my body deals, successfully or not so much, with new challenges—new drugs, new problems in the body, new attitudes in the “real me.”
Lately, I’ve noticed that the general culture has picked up on the insight that positivity is a good thing. And that “being present” can relieve stress. So we have lots of platitudes posted on websites and sent in emails and embroidered on pillows and printed on greeting cards, and in fact, just about everywhere.
Be here now. Smile, God loves you. Love is the answer. But I’m still stuck on shit happens! And that’s how I view the wearing down of my body, my husk. It’s just one of those things. Shit happens. And as to what will happen to me, my core, my essence when my body, my husk fails totally, well, it’s always good to have a little mystery in your life.