Choosing Activities in "The Home"

Sometimes it's hard to get your motor started and get yourself in gear. I'm at that place now. I have things I want to do, but doing them requires the time and space to focus and explore. I have a friend who wants to help me, but she wants to help me learn to paint. She is an artist and she shares that talent with others here. They are experiencing the joys of watercolor. 

I just want to experience being with the friends. I enjoy the charcoal drawing more than the watercolor. Of course the watercolor is prettier and more colorful, but I'm not talented in that way, and I know it. 

Whatever talent I have is with words, not color. I write a little poetry and a lot of essays, and occasionally some history or fiction, but I'll never be an artist. I will love my artist friends. I hope that's enough.

It seems to me that concern over depression and loneliness in old people may be more apparent to others, and less a problem for the old people than researchers and observers want to believe. I'm convinced that frantic activity and decorations don't substitute for meaningful effort and work. These people have lived a long time and had many successes and great energy to get to where they are now. Trivial crafts and foolishness doesn't replace that in the day to day living. Visit a relative in a retirement home or assisted living apartment and see what I mean.

Old Friends

My mother had friends she played bridge with, and invited for dinner, and went shopping with. They were the long-time friends that she knew well enough to confide in and share secrets with. She intended me to have friends like that, too, I think. Mostly I remember that she expected me to be kind and nice and behave well in public. My friends were often the children of her friends. She died when I was 10, so I didn't make many friends that were outside our family circle and school connections. Now I see how much those people have meant to my life. The friends you started out with stay with you, even when you grow up or move away. I value them in the memories we share, and when we meet, we still have things to talk about.

I have friends that I've only known for a brief period. Something about us clicked and we make instant contact. Maybe my mother's training in being nice and kind to others paid off. I'm not sure why but it does work. I've learned to find that quality in other people that makes me feel safe and generous and suddenly I remember them like they were one of the original special friends in my childhood. I'm not feeble minded yet, but when someone becomes a friend, they take on a different quality of closeness and camaraderie. They get filed in my mind or my heart like one of the people I knew when I was five. That I didn't know them then doesn't matter anymore. Sometimes they share a bit of history with me and it's like they just reminded me of something I always knew about them. Even if it is new and astonishing, it is seems like they just reminded me .

Having those friends I knew and loved may have set a standard in my life for loving friends. It is reassuring to know that even though I am far from home and most of my family, I can still enjoy friends and make new ones and be encouraged and and uplifted by them. Old friends are treasures worth keeping even when I just met them.

Can I Be a Writer?

I'm excited about writing again. I've never quit, but I have gotten lax and undisciplined, so now I have a new grip on the rope and writing is laid out before me like a garden ready to be planted, or perhaps ready to be harvested.

I am seeking a new formula for the discipline: to write for a specified time each day or to type a certain number of words or pages each day. A long time ago I was writing about 1000 words a day; I didn't count the words but it was an average of 4 pages at about 250 words a page. That's not as much as it sounds like, but when I've been doing some but not much and just some days, at that, it's a big freaking deal. It makes me feel like a writer again. And that doesn't mean the blogs. No, I mean pages I'll print out and edit and rewrite and shape into a story.

Yeah! I want to write fiction and serious stuff and articles and commentary. It does mean I'll have to think again. That seems to have been missing for a while, too. I may have to think and consider and reassess and reconsider. Sometimes I may have to take a stand and argue my point. I don't really like to argue, but to be the person who writes like I have described, it may happen. I'll let you know how I'm doing.

Am I Really Sick?

I went to the doctor and she told me I am sick. At least her test said I'm sick. Now I am feeling sick and I'm using that as an excuse for not engaging in activities. This may be what my mother called "enjoying poor health." I'm not really feeling pain or distress, I just don't want to do anything. On the other hand, if I really wanted to or other conditions were right, I could make some bread or fly a kite or make cookies for a grandchild. I'll just sit here in my bathrobe and reflect on life and the thought of getting better. If taking the medicine will give me a boost, it might be worth a try. Well, maybe not.

I'm not "mad" and I don't do many things that others question. I do read the Bible and poetry, and I even write it, but in my own defense, I'm not obsessed with my illness. I'm capable of using it as an escape. Some women of the 17th and 18th centuries that got the title really were crazy, but there were a few that used illness to enjoy a reclusive life. Their society allowed and even encouraged it. They didn't have to meet other people or work or dress for dinner. Emily Dickinson was a very productive poet with the restrictions her life imposed. I'm pretty sure I can't measure up to her standards, but for today maybe I'll just "enjoy poor health." 

My Mother Didn't Tell Me About Old Age

My mother never told me a lot about growing old so I'm having to figure it out for myself. I've learned that when the time comes the course is determined by how I have handled other crises. It is a new path, but not an unfamiliar one. You take a step or two, and the next step is revealed. You can't see the end from here, but the beginning is available.

As Winston Churchill said, "This is not the end. It's not even the beginning of the end, but it is the end of the beginning." I have things yet to learn and I relish the opportunity. O.K. lets say I'm old, but it aint over this it's over. I'm glad I still have lots to learn. I'm glad I've learned what I have since I need all that to handle this. Somebody famous said getting old isn't for wimps. Now I get to ask "What is it for?"

Maybe it's for wisdom. But I just said there are things I still need to learn. So I get to pass along some things and mentor people who still have more to learn than me. Now may be the time to deepen my understanding of what I already know. When I try to do that, I find that I'm not as smart as I thought.

I like to blog. Talking about what I've learned is wonderful. Sharing it is sort of mentoring. I hope it is interesting or helpful to someone else. Getting this old and learning this much hasn't been easy, so about the only thing that justifies it is hoping that someone else can benefit from my experience. Just reflecting on getting old is not all that great, but forming a theory and formulating a plan has promise.George Valliant has noted stages in late adulthood that were not recognized just a few years ago, so maybe getting old is newer than I thought.
For my other insights into aging see: Getting Older-Getting Better. 

New Year--Old Habits

I read a review of the biggest stories of 2013 and found that they reflected a severe lack of progress in the area of human responsibility, ethics, or humility. It seems like the most notable progress our society is capable of centers on technology and computer skills. There were big headlines about the efficiency of drones to kill people the government considers dangerous. Of course, that technology also allows surveillance with pictures and tracking. 

The technical skills do not come with a guarantee of trial by jury. It seems that anyone with this technology can target any subject and watch, track, or eliminate the individual on a whim. Who has the right to use such a weapon?

Of course, the same question applies to a hand gun, a long range rifle, or a shotgun. We have put limits on the right of individuals to invade the privacy of others or to assault them, or to make a mortal threat against them. This technology carries a moral responsibility with it--we must not attack others without due course of the law. We sometimes claim self defense. That seems to be a justifiable cause to use deadly force, but what court or authority allows the use of this equipment against individuals? How is this enforced? 

The FAA is the body now charged with making the rules by 2015. Ah, yes, it just gets curiouser and curiouser. Apparently nobody is concerned about it yet, even though the technology is for sale now. 

Finding The Meaning of Christmass

I have come to really enjoy memories. When I reclaim a special thought or event, the original experience blesses me again, and I enjoy it all over again.The older I get and the more memories I claim, the more important they become. especially at Christmas.

It's still two weeks till Christmas, but I'm getting nostalgic already. So many traditions are based on the music which has been playing since before Thanksgiving. Lots of the memories are related to shopping, and food, and and visiting.

It's funny to reach back into my memory for an incident and get the wrong one. In my childhood, I remember my mother and father and my mother's family at Christmastime, but Christmas with my children does not include extended family very much. Sometimes We went to Frank's sister's home in San Angelo. They didn't have any children, and Mitt loved to have us come, but  I didn't like to have to pack all the gifts and and try to keep them wrapped. It was worse than tedious to transport Christmas and 4 or 5 kids 300 miles.
We did the Santa Claus thing at home before we went.

This year I am making new memories. I am not sending gifts, just money to those who are far away. I'll spend Christmas Day with Becky and her family. That will be lovely and wonderful I think. I am looking forward to it. 

I hope I can remember this as the year I reconnected with Christmas of love and joy and promise without the gifts or tinsel.