My Top Ten Blog Posts of 2015

It is the last day of 2015 and I made a quick run through all of my posts with the intent of sharing the top ten with you.   It turned into a review of my own personal journey as I hit the highs and shared some of the lows. To sum it up, 2015 has been a year of exploration for me. Almost like a coming of age experience - only when you are 65 and not 15! The blog took off this year - thanks to more than a little help from my online friends with page views zooming from 60 to 1400! Thank you, one and all, for your interest, your comments, and your presence! I feel like 2014 was more jogging in place and 2015 finally saw me figuratively running along new trails with an increasing number of fellow joggers keeping me company! 

10. Five-Mind Games to Annihilate Boredom
This is me talking to myself - not a mountain top experience but the sound of rumblings in the valley. I pushed myself to slog up the nearest hill even if it was a garbage dump just to shake my soul up a little and remind myself I am OK!

9. Look Backwards
A much-needed reminder that Planning is not a destination - it's OK to move on to the living part!

8. Autumn of My Life: Aging Well
Pausing for a season of gratitude - so necessary no matter what stage of life you are facing. I feel strongly still, that honouring my creative inner-me is a risk well worth taking!

7. Beatles, Reefs or Candy Bars?

As we age, funerals become more common in our lives. We no longer feel queasy at the thought and the trends these days are certainly taking it out of the cemetery of our parents! With 145 page views, I would say that many of us are curious about how this may play out in our end-of-life story.

6. Enough-ness in Retirement
So far, one year has pushed me and prodded me to write a story for a new audience, paint with a group, swim (or float) with no concern about the rolls and wobbles exposed to the world, and relax in the quiet of my own home to read, paint, sleep, repeat.  I walked the shore, photographed the emotions mirrored in the lake, and rested on a bench, alone or not, content and full of awe at the tranquility water can integrate into my soul.  

5. Three Reasons Why Old Eyes Sparkle

Let's face it - not everyone has the privilege of getting old, but few of us look forward to it.  I am here to share why the place I am in right now is the best place there is in a long life of "places."

4. Why, When I Was Your Age..

This generation is not lost;  it is being found every moment of every day by the loving parents who were shaped by (me/you) the generation before.  

3. Fire! Part-2 - Make a Plan

Our close call with a wildfire seems so minuscule now that it is over and the news is pouring in about the many people who lost homes and livestock and livelihoods.  It feels selfish to keep talking about it and blogging about it.  And yet, in this moment, when the question is still there, I do have wisdom I didn't have a few days ago: I know what I would save in an evacuation emergency and I know what I didn't have - an emergency plan.

2. My List of Small Things

I am heading toward one of those milestone birthdays that everyone keeps talking about on my Facebook page this year.  Perhaps that is because many of my friends are on the same journey!  I find that things are changing for me - small things really - but I have the time to take notice of small things these days. 

AND, my Number 1 post of 2015 with over 300 page views - a record for this humble blogger:

1. Retired Introverts 

Retirees don't morph into something they are not, but for this retiree, at least, they continue to become who they really are. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

May you be your authentic self 

as you explore the new horizons ahead!

Pay It Forward - Again!

I single parented for many years shopping, cleaning and caring for four wonderful human beings.  We were not poor.  We were rich with love amidst our squabbles and joy lingering in the dusty corners.  We were not perfect, but divorce did not squash my life and inhibit my ability to love.  It expanded my horizon, opened up my heart to hear the little whispers at my knee for a hug or a story even better than before.  I was tired.  I was lonely for an adult conversation about clean air, a sale at The Bay or the newest flavour at Starbucks even though I knew I would be lining up for a large coffee at McDonalds long before I would be standing in line to order a grande mocha frappuccino light.  I was not poor.

Back then, grocery shopping became a chore for me rather than a needed break from my children.  And when I did wander down those aisles with my calculator in hand, checking my list and the growing number on my screen, I agonised sometimes over cereal selection and mandarin oranges or some other fruit.  I smuggled big bags of generic puffed wheat into our home and dumped it into plastic containers with no label that would expose my deceit.  I was the queen of hamburger and, given a chance and a great flyer deal, would drive extra miles for a sale on chicken parts with my heart beating faster and faster as I saved another dollar for another day and got to eat chicken instead of meat loaf.  I coached my children to save milk for meals and not to share any juice boxes with their friends as I could not replace them for use when the next field trip showed up on their take home papers.  And yet, I did not feel poor.

I lived in a nice house in an average neighbourhood in a small town with clean streets and green parks and a baseball diamond down the road.  My children skated at the local arena and played soccer across the street.  We fit in.  We looked like an average family with our cheap Walmart and consignment clothes and teeth brushed with the toothpaste that was on sale last week.  We were not poor.

One day, during a shopping trip for a celebration dinner for our little family plus a few friends, I rounded the corner of the aisle and zigzagged around the long line up of multiple grocery carts loaded to overflowing with turkeys, big roasts of beef, boxes of mandarins and Cheerios tipping precariously on the edge of the top rail.  I envied these women imagining in my mind that they never once pulled out a calculator like I did.  I envied them the privilege I had had once, picking and tossing food and miscellaneous goods with ease, just knowing that at the till the numbers would spit out, they would insert their debit card, the tape would roll and then be ripped and handed with a smile and a "Thank you for shopping with us today."  I felt poor.  In fact I felt angry, ripped off, tired of scrimping and saving, and filled with a strong desire to call my ex-husband and tell him I would send him the bill.

My anger made tears gather in the corners of my eyes and I quickly swiped them away while pretending to clean my glasses.  My anger covered up my heart breaking news that once again some item or another would be missing from our dinner table - not just the presence of the man who had fathered these amazing children.  Grumpily, I continued my journey, feeling sorry for myself, for my children, and then tried to include a generous wish that all families everywhere could ditch this overwhelming frustration of never having quite enough.  I felt guilty.  I felt angry.  I felt poor.

I reached the till somehow that day, smiled at the clerk, and turned to lift out the first item in my only slightly filled cart, knowing that my black mood was more evidence of my shrinking heart than the non-existent poverty I was claiming as my own.  A hand reached over and touched my hand just as I grabbed the generic peanut butter jar.  I looked up into the smiling, pale-blue eyes and acne-scarred face of Harvey staring at me.  I knew him - sort of.  He was one of my ex-husband's colleagues, a strange guy, quiet, bookish and yet, somehow, had managed to become a good salesman over the years.

He greeted me briefly, handed me a card and said,  "Hope this helps you and the kids a little. I know you must be going through a rough time."

Harvey waved again and disappeared into the mall.  My heart grew a little bigger.  It wasn't the size of the small gift card he had placed in my hand, although it would make a difference to the ones I loved the most - my children.  The tears I experienced were tears of gratitude for someone who noticed that average me - not poor me, not underprivileged me, just me - could get through another day, another week and many years fueled by the joy handed to me by a man who was almost a stranger. His act of kindness was timed perfectly.

There are so many Facebook posts about this phenomenon.  Like many I nod my head and maybe tear up a bit and go on with my life.  I say that I know what it feels like to be that one on the receiving end.  I have even experienced the extreme joy being on the giving end.  Either way, I never get tired of reading or watching these scenarios.  That is the basis of who we are as human beings.  And I remember once again, it is not necessarily the biggest, most visible gift that makes the greatest impact but a series of well-timed, simple kind gestures paid forward every single day that may lift up an average single mom struggling to make ends meet even when she really isn't poor!

Five Mind Games to Annihilate Boredom in Retirement

Most of the time I write from the Mountaintop of Satisfaction rather than the Valley of Disgruntlement!  Today I am taking a different approach as it occurred to me that no one lives on the mountain top every day!  Many can coast down pretty quickly and I thought, maybe, while I was down here visiting the doldrums I might figure out some witty, unique ideas to dig my way out - at least to the surface of Ho Hum.

Due to some recent health issues in our little family of two, I re-jigged my retirement from self-centred to temporary caregiver.  This was a willing and loving choice and I would certainly make it over and over again if necessary.  I found myself suddenly in charge of all decisions - shopping, cooking, cleaning, deciding, communicating, and supporting, encouraging and coaching.  I realize there are many out there who do this on a regular basis and I salute you - truly.  I have been reminded that I am so blessed to have a man in my life who loves to cook and clean and anything else I leave undone.  We have fallen into a rhythm of sorts "putzing" in our areas of expertise, seeking out our creative endeavors separately and spending evenings hanging out with each other or family or friends.  That all changed last week.

I discovered that I actually enjoyed cooking again (in small bouts) and shopping was slower when I did it but oh so much more interesting.  I had great chats with the Superstore staff as they rushed to assist me in the bulk foods aisle or point me to the coconut milk in the Asian food aisle. I loved searching through recipes and planning the day`s meal based on my recent purchases.  I even liked my solitude as my significant other napped.  I felt in charge!  Drunk with it, actually!

This week, he is feeling better, my control-freak, manager role has been re-engineered to official cleaner-upper and bed maker again and, sorry to say,  I got grumpy, people.  I slid down off that mountain top of control and I didn`t know how to put the brakes on! As per usual, I slid past the Plateau of the Usual and landed somewhere in the basement!  So I have come up with five activities (or mind games!  You decide!) anyone could use to confront boredom when you dive bomb into something less than Ho Hum:

1.  Embrace your strengths.
Take a look around you and figure out which tasks/skills you are great at and which you would willingly give away.  This obviously would have to be a negotiated state of existence if you have a significant other who is great at the same tasks.  Of course, if you are in a long term partnership with established roles and responsibilities that have evolved over many years, you may be in for a much longer discussion than someone like me with only five years under my (our) belt(s).  I am actually good at organizing, finessing, fussing, perfecting - really.  So I will finesse well this week!  Just saying!

2. Enhance your performance.
When I arrived in my new, retirement abode last year, my partner had been here for one month alone.  Everything was arranged to his liking.  The pantry, the kitchen shelves, the storage areas, and, of course, the garage - all were done.  In My view - temporary; in His view - permanent!  We eventually sorted out the yours/mine/ours of homemaking.  Now, with the break in our ten-month old routine last week, I felt like I had to find my place again.

I delved into my former role of cleaner and polisher with abandonment.  I reveled in the shiny surfaces, the super clean kitchen counters, the perfectly made bed.  It fulfilled my OCD leanings fully.  This week I added a new floral arrangement so I could doubly enjoy it.

3. Feed your creative genius.
I have been missing my twice weekly water colour painting classes!  I found that those two days a week of focused learning and experimenting multiplied into hours of painting and reading about painting.  It took over from my writing fever a little and filled me with child-like excitement - adding a sense of adventure to my week.  With that gone - now what? The emptiness I had filled with shopping and cooking last week felt emptier now.  The silence shouted at me.

I reminded myself about my writing, my blogs, my slightly wonky interest in some decorating DIY's and I felt my spirit rejuvenate.  There is truly something to be said about feeding your creative self.  So, fellow retirees, go out there and create: paintings, pottery, beautiful gardens, artisan breads.  You will feel RENEWED!  I will be out there with you this week!

4.  Play
I have only recently found my inner child and sometimes I still shove her back into the dark corner of my soul instead of inviting her to come out and play.  My partner truly showed me the joy of liberating this rather unruly little girl only five years ago.  It has been so fun to be that child again, play tricks, do silly things, verbalize the funny words that gurgle up inside of me at the oddest moments.  It is also the first thing I shut down when I hit the basement.  Make sure your inner child, the fun one - not the tantrum throwing one - gets to come out and play every day!  Mine surfaced finally last night as we danced a waltz in our kitchen to my personal rendition of "At Last."

5. Talk
So, words are my medium - right?  I love words.  I love how words can paint pictures so vibrant that they live inside my mind even when my eyes are closed.  Words paint emotions for me like colours write stories for others.  It is so important to use my words to share my thoughts, my day, my little corner of the world.  I could write someone a much better letter than share a conversation on the phone.  Words live on paper; they disappear over a wire.  However, it would be difficult to carry out all conversations that way - although I have seen many a teenager attempt that!  So, this week, I will focus even if it takes effort, I will smile, I will speak and share my day, my hopes, my dreams.  I will spin stories and future plans and, yes, even have difficult conversations about who will cook next week.

And that, my friends are the five steps I decided on that would carry me back up to the Plateau of Usual.  Why, I think I might even make it up a few more levels if I can just find the pictures to insert into this post so I can get it published!

See you on the mountaintop!

Retired Introverts

I woke up this morning (a good thing!) thinking about retirement now that I have reached my one-year anniversary and realized I am still learning how to be retired.

My first observation in the wee hours - retirement is like starting a new job.  New employees don't start out as the expert on Day One - it takes time for them to figure out the "corporate" culture and how they can maximize their position and contribution within their new surroundings.

Because I am a researcher/analyzer type of person, I naturally spent many hours digging into other's comments - written or spoken - on how they "do" retirement.  Like the new employee, I took to heart most of those comments and felt pulled in many different directions.  I pulled back and hid out for awhile (thankfully no one fired me!) and feared I would fade into the woodwork permanently those first few months.  This morning, I read an article about introversion - one of those "13 ways to make the introvert in your life feel loved" kind.  Thank goodness these two blogs together finally shot a dose of realism and clarity into my blood stream.  Made me look at how I was loving the introvert within my own skin!

Without the distraction of a busy work schedule, I have been embracing my introversion in a way I feel I couldn't while being the best in my work of choice.  Work pushed me into social situations where I learned to be the extrovert social diva to promote and educate and market - all at a cost to my energy and motivation to do more and more.  Fortunately, these times were balanced out with my other tasks that tied me to the computer, working within my comfort zone, writing and crunching numbers!  Ah!  Balance!

Take me out of the "have to" scenario and I flounder - like a fish out of water!  Give me eight months and I finally figure out I am not a fish after all!  The guilt surfaced - how my social activity was being sidelined, even avoided at times.  Wise words (some of them mine!) reverberated in my head:

"You need friends - girlfriends, couple friends, casual friends and especially face-to-face friends."
"Get involved in the community.  Volunteer.  Bake cookies.  Go to events."
"Go to the local coffee shop and meet people. Walk up to a table of seniors with an empty chair or two and ask if you can join them."
"Walk around your neighbourhood.  Talk to people.  Get to know their names."

Can I just say that some of this was great advice and some of it was even great advice for me, but some of it (go to a coffee shop!) made my throat constrict in terror!

My moment this morning realized that my happiness quotient goes up when I stay true to myself,  being authentic within my own heart.  I have taken up solo types of activities like painting and writing to my heart's content.  Learning to paint works - joining a class gives me the kind of beneficial social connection I love while I pursue my creative side.  Joining a writing group puts me in a whole group of introverts! Knowing this even encouraged me to venture out and make my first meeting with them a lunch in a restaurant before I had even met one person!  Volunteering looks different for me than the cooking, baking, kind that I think many of my advisers had in mind.  I volunteer at the local art gallery, meeting and greeting complete strangers but in a setting that houses one of my passions - art.  Instant conversation starter plus I can capitalize on my "being in charge" character from years of management.

Social activity is very important, but it looks different for everyone.  Just like the many home choices (style and location), travel ideas (mode and destination) and financial situations (frugal or on the edge!) differ from one to the other.  Retirement is not a destination but a continuation of the life you started sixty or so years ago - true to character with lots of room to grow and explore and finally with the time and opportunity to relax into it.

Retirees don't morph into something they are not, but for this retiree, at least, they continue to become who they really are.  Free time opens up the opportunity to explore some of those neglected corners of a busy, working, parenting life and infuse light, life and colour back into them.  I was a child who loved to create, read, write and hang out with a few special friends.  I am again that child - just a little wiser and freer to pursue all of this and more!

Reading, 'Riting and 'Rithmetic

Growing up in the 50's and 60's the standard education was based on the three "R's".  I was triply blessed as I loved all three!  Now that I look at this, I realize that I still do.

My love for reading was embedded in my DNA.  I have read many articles on how important it is to instill the love of reading in your little ones.  I would shock many moms today by saying that I had few books as a very young child.  I only remember one significant one as a preschooler and that was a book of nursery rhymes - a BIG book but only one book.  I pined to be able to read it myself and begged any older sister available to please read me the rhyme about the old lady going to market.  It was never my mom or dad (busy bakers) - just a sibling and when I finally learned how to read, I was rarely without a book in my hand.  Everyone who came to my 12th birthday party gave me a book as a gift.  By fifteen I had read every book I was allowed to read in our small town public library and was granted permission to choose from the adult books (with guidance - it takes a village to raise a child!).  Now I never travel without my Kindle and love, love, love the one tap purchase convenience for any and all new and old releases!