A Grandmother's Journey into the Winter Years

     Sometimes I'm at a loss for words. Throughout my life I have realized that when I feel verbally challenged, it's better to get prolific in other ways. I'm posting a couple of digital collages that show a beginning of a process emerging in the past couple of weeks.

     When I feel stuck, I do self portraits, or collages. I have joined the two this time.  It's not because I'm so in love with myself that I engage in this practice of self portraiture, but because first, I'm the only model around that will sit still for a couple of hours, and secondly it's been a way to access unconscious feelings I have about myself, or unfulfilled dreams. Believe me, as I get older, it is more of a desperate act than one of vanity, but I do find that I start to love that image. It's not because it is an icon of beauty in the conventional sense, but because I begin to feel the inner beauty. I begin to embrace this realization, and treat it accordingly.

     I think most people at some point just accept the hand dealt to them in life. Every human vehicle is a gift. Whether we think we're too ugly, too fat, too skinny , too hairy, too bald, or even just too beautiful (some people actually complain about that). Every incarnation, every human possibility has its gifts, and cost. The best way is to receive the gift, and pay the cost, is to stay spiritually aware. Being a  humble servant of the truth is the best option for staying happy in this world of endless possibilities.

     Much love to all of you my friends.

 It is odd having a father that died so young. I'm coming very close to doubling his life span now and I have had my way of taking risks. My dad never knew what it was like to become a grandfather, to deal with aging, or losing his parents. He preceded both of them on that account. It was just his time for whatever reason, and the lesson of loss learned early for my brother and I. That's just the way it works out for many of us.

My dad's memorial site.

Recently, I celebrated another birthday.Yes, I'm now 57 years young.  Usually I have a couple of weeks of emotional upheaval before the birthday, but this year, it came after. There has been a lot of foot-dragging for the past week, but also, a lot of gratitude for the many wonderful things I have in my life that keep me going. I'm not quite sure, I could go through these dark times without my loved ones. It's not that they do anything special. It's just knowing they are there.

For nearly all my life, I have suffered from depression, and while I recognize it is a very common experience, I still find I buy into it for a couple of days when it first hits. Many things can trigger it. The wrong food,too many sweet things (alcohol is definitely a no-no), or even a minor argument with a friend....and even though I know many things that help turn it around, sometimes, the hopelessness renders me unwilling to do these things. I get angry. I'm not the type to feel justified in taking it out on others so I internalize. As the days go by though, I begin to step back into sanity, realizing the futility in indulging it. I read spiritual books, involve myself with artwork, throw myself into projects, whether it be cleaning the house, or doing a favor for a family member or a friend. Even writing this blog for my family and friends, is a way to step out of the fog depression tends to create in my life.

I have come to realize that at the bottom of this depression, is an unwillingness to accept life as it is appearing in the here and now. I feel out of control, helpless to change. Part of me knows that I just have to ride it through, and trust that my innate intelligence will find a solution, if I just keep showing up for my life the best way I can.

What triggered the episode this time was being too tired and an incident at a family gathering to celebrate my birthday and mothers day. One family friend, insisted on going over a litany of why he is worthless, and while I am sensitive to his dilemma, I felt once again I was cast as the reluctant caretaker. In short I felt invisible. Somehow the festivity had become about my friend, and not about celebrating my life, and the life of the friends, I had invited to share it with.  And while he may have been insensitive, it is not a criminal offense. I was very strong with him, and told him, that he always had a way of making conversation about himself, instead of an open exchange of ideas.When I finally stand up for myself, and take care of myself, I feel guilt.  If I wasn't so hard on myself, I would have an easier time showing strength and setting  healthy boundaries.  I forget to appreciate the growth it has taken for me to be honest.  I don't want to go into overkill, and give him more fodder for his "all-the-ways-I-hate" myself list. After all, he has a many wonderful qualities too. We all from time to time need wake up calls about being self involved. I think part of what was difficult for me, is that I feel the same way that he does about myself, but the difference is, I know that giving voice to the litany of all the ways I am worthless, digs me further into the mire of self loathing. So when my friend does this, it's like a negative mantra to a false god, and I find it difficult to keep my equanimity worshiping  the low self-esteem deity.

So here, I am taking a step out in the open. Today, I cleaned the house, prepared presents for friends and family, and wrote here, to you, "my dear, and best beloved." (as Rudyard Kipling would put it.) I am so grateful for living in a beautiful place. The trees are that lucid green. The evening is breezy and just cool enough. The people passing the café, I'm sitting in, are eating ice cream, and smiling at their children. An acquaintance bought me a latte today just because I laughed with him. My daughter left me two Trader Joe Chocolate bars (unsweetened on the end of my bed). My grandson kissed me this morning, and a friend sent me a heart in an email. While I know there will be tragedies, minor setbacks, dreams unfulfilled, life is good, and worth the pain. Perhaps,  I'll send the old friend I mentioned, my heart in an email.

My grandchildren awe me. I feel consistently out-shined by their brilliance at times. A few days a week I take care of my grandson. Our mornings are easy together. We visit our games on Facebook, he eats waffles, I eat oatmeal, and sip my morning coffee. As he plays with cars and blocks, I get busy with chores, stopping to answer his questions, and perhaps help him with washing his hands or brushing his teeth.

As I was vacuuming yesterday, he approached me. I turned off the vacuum and said, "What is it, Zane?" He asks: "Meme, can we clean Daddy's room?" Daddy has a closed off porch he retreats to relax in evening. For the most part we leave it untouched for my son-in-law to deal with as far as cleaning and decorating. I was so touched by my grandson's care that his father have a nice room to come home to, that we spent an hour sweeping and dusting. My grandson was present for it for every step of it. His father was so pleased when he came home, my grandson was so pleased that he could do something for his father, and I was so pleased that I could witness this child's generosity. 

Zane turned 4 last November. Sometimes though when I watch him in all his child delight at life, I see this old wizened soul here to teach us all.

Last night I dreamed an old friend was dying. He was lingering, almost trying to pretend it wasn't happening. His spiritual teacher, Samaraj Adi Da (who had just passed on a little more than a year ago) called him on the phone, and said, "Just do it now". He calmly went in the other room and allowed the process. It was a strangely funny and beautiful dream in spite of the theme. Maybe death can be just like going in the other room, and not coming back to the the one you were in before.

I skipped a week on writing in my blog for a pause to reflect on my intent for creating this . I was pondering on the question to myself of "how honest do I want my little online web log to be?" I have started to realize that writing is a clarifying process. It brings issues to the surface, that I wasn't even aware I buried which leads me to the topic of "regret". Believe me, I have plenty of it. Is it useful to dwell in the realm of "regret"? No, not particularly.


The only usefulness of regret is that it points to an area of growth that I need to embrace. When I find myself hanging out in the purgatory of regret I notice it points to several things. First of all, I'm not living in the present moment. Choosing sanity means doing the yoga of attention which means taking a deep breath, looking around, and seeing what is possible to be done in the "here and now." One of the definitions of the word yoga is to yoke oneself to God (aka; pure consciousness). There are many forms of yoga. Hatha is the one we are more familiar with. Usually a series of physical poses we put ourselves in to restore us to equanimity, and a sense of well-being. In Jainism yoga they consider the total of all activities—mental, verbal and physical.


The best I can offer to this blog, is uniting my words with the present moment. It's not my intention to be a "poser". I won't pretend to have any advanced yogic skills, but I can practice telling the truth to the best of my ability. Life has persuaded me that nothing can come from denying the truth, about myself or anyone else for that matter. It is liberating for me to consider this. Even in criticizing someone, I cannot find separation, for the only way I can come to any insight about anyone else is that I have come to see these same qualities in myself. This doesn't give permission for me to hammer others, or myself with these perceptions.


Recently, and old acquaintance contacted me just to say hi. I didn't have particular fond personal memories of our "relationship". As a child they had tormented and scorned me, but I did have other memories of them. The person was a particularly talented vocalist. I remember attending school performances and being completely awestruck by their tremendous gift. It put me in a bit of a quandary. How could these two experiences of the same person coincide. I tended to think as a child it was because I was inherently un-lovable, or they were just being hateful, and not understand that this was just someone who I needed to learn from. My old school chum was a child like myself, just learning how to negotiate in a less than safe world. After all, it's not as if I had never been unkind. I think as children we experiment with all kinds of behaviors. Experiencing pain and regret are ways that show us actions that aren't working for us. Unfortunately, I have often continued this conduct in spite of these signals. I have a strong feeling that this is at the crux of addictive, and self-defeating ways of life. Many of us want life to bend to our whims and not "accept life on life's terms." My point is that I had a lot of regrets about my childhood. Taking teasing too much to heart, and then lashing out with my own cruelties. my relationship with my former school friend was not a comforting one, but one that helped me see that I can not depend on the understanding of others. Finding peace with myself is an inside job.


I have a favorite Jazz song I often listen to: "No Regrets" by Roy Ingraham and Harry Tobias. There have been many singers that have done this song. Billie Holliday being the most famous for it. The tone of the song is so upbeat and lyrical that I always feel my spirit fly when I listen to it. The lyrics go as follows:
No regrets!
Although our love affair has gone astray,
No regrets!
I know I'll always care though you're away;
Somehow our happy romance ended suddenly,
Still in my heart you'll be,
Forever mine!
No regrets!
Because somebody new looks good to you,
No regrets!
Sweetheart, no matter what you say or do,
I know our love will linger when the other love forgets,
So I say good-bye with no regrets!
No regrets!
Because somebody new looks good to you,
No regrets!
Sweetheart, no matter what you say or do,
I know our love will linger when the other love forgets,
So I say good-bye with no regrets!


Now while this is a song about romantic love, there is a sentiment in it that is just astounding. Love without jealousy, without holding on in the face of departure. The lack of taking that departure personally or as an act of un-love is just a beautiful response to the challenge of clear loss. This song has become very iconic to me. At 56 years old, romantic love doesn't hold the appeal it once had. I wasn't one of the ones who found a life partner. I used to think I was unlucky, but now, I'm at peace with what I have been given (and what I have created)". I am looking at an opportunity to take these autumnal years to prepare for the last days of winter, and make them a journey of learning more about authentic love. There are so many kinds of love, so many kinds of relationships that are equally deserving of my attention. Even though the body ages the heart is eternally young. Who knows I may find someone to share the journey with, but I'm no longer looking. I'm not without love, just without marriage. I could regret not learning to let go, be kinder, and more tolerant with those around me sooner than I have but that would be missing the point. If I assumed love in all moments I would have no sense of betrayal, and none of the torture of regret. I could just as easily sing this song to my old schoolmate to open my heart in the midst of experiencing the painful memory of a difficult childhood. Learning this lesson is an ongoing process.


Living without regret, without resentment is a choice we make everyday. This doesn't require me to live a life being a doormat or expecting that I am going to live up to some lofty ideal of perfection. I just need to be willing to take the time to connect with the bigger picture whether it be through meditation, or embracing an art form. I think there are many ways to connect with reality. For now, the practice of writing and art, and remembering to carry the beautiful simple song "No regrets" in my heart.