Category: Aging with spunk, sass, and soul

“KEEP YOUR MOTORS RUNNING…Heading for the Highway…Looking for adventure and whatever…” (well, you know).

“Born to Be Wild”, by Steppenwolf, is indicative of Woodstock, protests, free love and crazy 60’s, right?   It seems to me that those experiences (vicariously, or not) should be implanted into our aging Boomer bodies and our memory banks (that may be forgetting a few things here and there).  I can still hear the band singing now, and the girl in me wants to jump into chorus, dance around the room and pretend that I’m a vibrant 20 year old again.  My!  I could Frug, Jerk, Twist, Pony, and make a room come alive.  I bet you could, too.

Just one more time, I’d like to hear that motor running and step into adventure, heading for the highway.

However, today I’m feeling 69 1/2, and not so wild.  In fact, my rheumatoid arthritis is rampant this week, and I’m walking like Grandpa on the old TV series, The Real McCoys.  I’m reminded that aging is not for the weak, the spineless, or the fearful.

I am reminded that life is full circle as chapters are written, memorized, edited, loved, hated, rewritten and oft times, reinvented, if possible.

Last night, alone in my room, except for my friends, MacBook Air and Netflix, I settled in early and began watching a referred movie, “Our Souls at Night”, starring Robert Redford and  Jane Fonda.  Watching it was an exercise of intense introspection and realized realities.   Realizations that have sometimes hurt, have sometimes emoted pride, sometimes required forgiveness.  Nevertheless, these reality checks were significant enough to make me take serious reflection upon what I think I want, what I really need, and what reality provides.

For example, love.  Now, some of you have been married for a very long time.  I am sure that you’ve traveled many wonderful miles together, up and down, around and back within 4 or 5 decades together.  You have withstood the tests of time; and rightfully, have earned my highest respect! You have endured and chosen to remain within your marriage.  It is an awesome feat.  But, the big but, is that many of us are not…married, for whatever reasons.

So, what does being single mean to me at age 69 1/2 and what has this got to do with love, needs, wants, and life, adventures and growing older?  Being single itself promotes adventure, and can have its advantages, for sure.  It’s also many other expletives, as well as:  Challenging, Lonely, Unnerving.  Being single over 60 can also create critical judgements, can create victimization, always requires unusual spiritual strength, mandates emotional balance and most of all, requires having friends…really good, good friends.  And herein lies the jest of my blogging thoughts.

This is where the reality check evolves.  The tradeoffs, the compromises in life are numerable and varied.  I can’t dance like I used to.  Love doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me, either.   Yet, what I do have and what reality is providing for me is:   Friends.

My friends come from all walks of life; they are all ages, and they are male and female.  Without them, I do not know how’d I’d function.  They uplift, they tell the truth, they laugh with me and at me, and they sustain me through bad health and euphoric moments.  We are authentic and fearless.  Each would stand by my side should I call them.

The list isn’t long, this list of really good, good friends.  And, none of us are angels or little old ladies or somber men rocking in our chairs at sunset.  We meet to hear live music.  We talk about each other’s husbands, or boyfriends, girlfriends,  or children, or lovers or neighbors or our businesses or the latest trends.  We disagree about politics.  We watch each other dance.  We watch each other delight in grandchildren.  We brag to the inth degree.  We share in grief.  We somberly hold one another when times are tough.   Do my friends take the place of love and adventure?  No.  But they add to my life in ways that can’t be necessarily measured.

My motor is still fortunately running and sometimes I still head for the highway.  Seeing Earth, Wind & Fire in concert was a blast!  Sometimes I still dance a little,  too.  Yet, my best adventures now aren’t so elusive.  My new adventures are treasuring my memories of my children and family.  Honoring my friendships.  Unconditional love.

Being alone at night is still hard:  The intimacy of sharing the events of the day, or feeling someone hold you while you cuddle…of course, I greatly miss being in love; and that 5:30-7:30 time is THE HARDEST.  I miss my family meal preparations, the talk, the chaos.  I miss it all.

…and then a friend calls.  “Want to share a glass of wine?”   ‘Need a ride to Donn’s?”  “Just letting you know we sure do appreciate you here at work.”  A familiar voice, and I’m back on track.   My adventure of life seems stable and nurtured.  And isn’t that what we all truly desire?  To be loved, nurtured, protected, needed?

Know this.  I  am not ready to retire into senility or powerless aging rhetoric.  My adventures are yet to be seen or known.  My soul at night may be lonely, and I surely do want to find that person to share my intimate thoughts again; but my adventures still exist.

I will get my motor running.  I will head on down the highway, looking for adventure and whatever comes my way…and Yes!  My really good, good friends will enable me to see the world through the eyes of our youthful hearts.  They will share adventurous highways of trust, laughter, and tears.

These long and winding roads of life’s adventures will be filled with love, tenderness, and the unknown…but that’s another song:)

Giddyup ya’ll.  Go see the Bluebonnets.  Eat some Bluebell’s ice cream.  Picnic by the rivers.

Live life lovingly,

Texana Lane…headin’ down the highway of life!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Can You See Me Now?

Seven months and counting!  That’s right.  Seven months before turning 70…And guess what?  I went on an interview.  You read it right.  I went on an interview.  What image conjures in your mind?  Too old?  Out of touch?  Incapable? “Shouldn’t she be retiring at this age?”  “She must be desperate!”  Either way, it wasn’t an easy decision, brutal, in fact.

Of course, I WANT to retire and sail into the sunset.  Yet, in all seriousness, I’m not quite ready.  My heart still wants to share a mission, to help children and our communities, to be creative, to be visible.  The fact that I’m single measures into the decision, too.  What will I do if I’m not working?  Retirement doesn’t allow me enough funds to travel around the world..haha…or even live ‘high on the hog’ as my mama would say.  Plus,  I can’t wrap my head around the scenario of being home alone without a viable purpose.

Also, I love my current co-workers, but I simply woke up one morning and realized that I need to use every creative bone in my body.  I need to learn, share, grow…and not be dying on the vine.  I realized that I had become invisible, even to myself, and sensed that I need to feel alive again, with an eagerness to wake up proudly and smile at the woman in the mirror, wrinkles and all.

Have you ever not wanted to look closely at yourself in the mirror?  I certainly have; and such an attitude can be debilitating, a cancer-causing sucker of life.  It can be a killer of dreams, of goals.  Aging takes spunk, sass and soul; it’s not for the faint.  It can steal one’s gratitude and happiness, and I was allowing myself to be invisibly depressed.   Every time I looked in the mirror, I was loosing confidence and purpose.

My wrinkles weren’t the problem.  It was the fact that I was losing purpose.  Losing my edge.  I was feeling ‘less than’.  Thankfully, I got a grip and came up with a game plan…right, wrong, or indifferent.  I said, “Quit It!”  (Risky, for sure.  True to myself?  Definitely).

So, I did.  I submitted my resignation of my current job, then spent hours creating a portfolio, a resume and a focus to match my creative energies with a purposeful job.  I began smiling as I looked at the pictures of my past accomplishments, my past tribes.

Let me backtrack for a second.  After the interview and over the weekend, I had a fun bucket list adventure at the San Antonio Riverwalk.  The reason I’m sharing this now is that I had the pleasure of meeting a 90ish year old woman, an owner of one of the shops we visited.  As we were leaving, she said to me, “Well, aren’t you cute.  What is your name?”  I introduced myself, and she in turn introduced herself as Mrs. Pace.  She said, “You may recognize this name, as in my past husband’s business, Pace Picante.”  I asked how long she had had the store, and she said, “Upon the death of my husband, I took my money and headed straight to the Dallas Market.  I’ve been here ever since, and that was many many years ago!”  Her young eyes gleamed through her aging body.  She was happy.  She was proud.  She was at peace with her choices.  So, my heart took a leap as I listened and as I realized that I, too, had made the right decision.  Her age did not define her.

Back to my interview!  Yes, I went to the interview.  Walked into a new adventure, began my re-invention yet once again, and introduced myself, age and all, to a believer of holistic learning…(and, yep, now my new employer), who sees my vision, who appreciates my creative mind, who feels that I will be a wonderful asset to their school.  I even received the salary that I felt worthy of asking.

Can I see me now?  Yes, because I took the leap and respect for myself.  Yes, because I got out of my own way.

The cammo is gone.  I threw it away the moment I walked into her office.  She saw me.  The real me.  As I told her, “I’m old enough to know better, but too young to be put out to pasture.”  She laughed.  We chatted at length about how I could creatively contribute to her vision of learning and care for their students.  It was fun.  I felt alive.  I felt purposeful.

I start my new job next week.  Of course, I am nervous; but I am visible, with no desire to hide behind any rhetoric of aging.  WE all have much to contribute.  Don’t hide!  Share your gifts, your wisdom, your good and bad experiences.  Be heard.  Be seen.  Be loved.

God Bless Us All,

Texana Lane