Fifty is the new fifteen, or how I am aging backwards by being more myself
Two days ago, I turned fifty. It seems absolutely impossible, but it’s true.
It’s completely liberating.
I’ve loved my life up until now— I’ve experienced and enjoyed so much. When I was 21, I was living in Kenya. When was 25, I met the man I’d marry. When I was 30 we bought a house. When I was 40 we paid off that house and I quit my teaching job that had served and inspired me for 16 years. At 41 I hiked the whole Appalachian Trail. At 45 I became a certified life coach. At 47 I joined my first dance troupe. In between all those milestones there have been so many little wonders. Tons of travel, exploring, camping, learning, reading, being, dancing, playing. Of course there’s also been grief, sadness, worry and anxiety, but there’s been far more joy.
The older I get the more I’m interested in simplicity— in less doing, more being. I'm learning to be fully present in any situation, rather than constantly surveying the horizon for the next opportunity or experience. I'm looking internally to decide what's important.
I'm writing this from the beach in Destin, Florida, here for our annual Thanksgiving trip. My friend Amy stayed with me last weekend - we have known each other for 28 years, more than half our lives. We reminisced and remembered younger, sillier and sometimes wilder days, and also allowed ourselves to feel young and silly and wild.
I baked homemade rainbow-colored cupcakes and Amy impulse-bought me a giant fuzzy caterpillar at the grocery store.
It was the perfect gift at the perfect time. Amy says I still look like I'm 12 and she can't understand how that's possible. A friend wrote on a photo I posted yesterday, wearing my new rainbow flowered swimsuit ideal for a teen, (see pic below) that I looked "15 and 90 - radiant and wise." What a compliment.
There might be many reasons for this. One, I've been very lucky to live a relatively easy life. I haven't been aged much by trauma and outside circumstances. And then there's something I can't quite describe or understand, but I feel young inside. I always have and maybe I always will. I'm not much for pretense or putting on airs. I'm pretty much a truth-teller. I used to worry that I needed to be more "grown up" to be seen as "legit" by colleagues and clients, but I'm no longer so sure.
Being myself seems most real and most genuine. And now that I'm 50, I'm excited to step into the power of being completely me, even more. I can't wait to see what that looks like.
What to do when every day feels like Groundhog Day
You know the movie, of course. Bill Murray wakes up to the same day every day for a very very long time.
Ever feel that way in real life? Like if you have to wash that pot, clean that sink, choose an outfit, go to the store again(!) or even bathe, that you'll lose it? Ever feel tired of the routines of daily life?
Ever clear out your in box only to find it full twenty minutes later and wonder what the heck the point is? Like when you reply to all the people you've been putting off replying to, and then they REPLY BACK and you're right back to where you started?
Ever wonder how to get to the main thing, the big ideas, the real meat of life, when so much of your time is spent simply going through the actions of general subsistence, like eating, sleeping and keeping yourself generally presentable?
Ever feel like you've done enough for one day by 8:30 a.m. and now it should be nap time?
I get it. I crave a day of catch up for every day of life.
But that's not how it works. So when you're feeling groundhogged out, try one or two of these easy strategies to reboot and refresh. (You know them - this is just a reminder, because I need a reminder too!)
Embrace the mundane. Stop to really smell the dish soap, hear the water running. Feel the warm suds. See the squeaky clean plate. Use your senses to bring you to the present moment. Close your eyes and listen. To voices of kids, coworkers, sweethearts. To breezes. Feel textures, temperatures. See the colors around you. Locate the light. Breathe. Try it right now for just thirty seconds.
Slow down even when you're sure you're behind. Catching up isn't really attainable, because there's always going to be more. So slowing down and enjoying might work just as well. Trees don't say, "Oh good, I'm caught up photosynthesising, finally! Now I can relax."
Pretend you're an angel for a day and that your only job is to radiate gratitude, love and kindness. Whether or not you get to your in box. Or tackle that pile of projects, laundry, whatever. Remember how Bill Murray gets kinder, happier, and more pleasant by the end of the movie? And you realize he could have chosen that option from the start? Choose it.
Abandon your productivity goals and go outside. Take a five minute walk. Ask the sky, birds, trees or flowers for some advice. Chances are it's going to be good, and that it involves something about paying attention, gratitude, grace, happiness or love.
Notice that you are FINE right now. You're breathing. Your senses work. You are not in danger, most likely. (Unless there's a land shark ringing your doorbell...) Breathe into your okayness. Notice if you're actually better than okay. And even if you're sick, or close to death, or really really sad, or just fighting the common cold like I am today, remember that fundamentally, in this exact moment, you are still ok.
Do something different. If your routines are boring you, shake them up. Wear something you don't usually wear. Go somewhere you don't usually go. Talk to someone you wouldn't normally talk to. Ask for something you don't usually ask for. Choose a radio station you wouldn't usually listen to. Comment on something you wouldn't usually comment on.
Clear your space. If you're overwhelmed by clutter, just sweep off a big area - a shelf, your desk, your nightstand -- and make a space. Ahh. Now you can see and think. And decide one by one if whatever you cleared gets permission to return to the space or whether it's time to let it go.
Do it now. Do something. Take some action, even if it's not perfect. Sometimes the best way out of a Groundhog Day-type rut is just to do something. Set the timer for 15 minutes and get started. Notice how great you feel and see if the momentum helps you continue.
Try again later. Yes - it's the opposite of do it now. Sometimes the best thing you can do is step away, abandon it all for an hour or two-- or a day or two-- and then come back with clear eyes. Pick something pleasant to occupy your time in the meantime. A nap, a walk, a piece of fruit, time with a pet, time to gaze out the window and watch the weather.
It's just life, people. It's ok to drop the desperation for accomplishment and just savor the moment. You know it, so let yourself feel it and really do it. If you're Bill Murray, you might even get the girl!
Rethinking "your one wild and precious life"
You know the quote, right? "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" It's from a poem by Mary Oliver called "The Summer Day". And it's everywhere, including a version in the name of this blog. Here's what's interesting:this line, taken out of context, sounds like a prompt to get rolling. Get going. Do something for goodness sake! Be more productive! Be more! Do more! Succeed! Achieve! Go places! You only have one life after all! YOLO and all that!
However, the poem has a very different tone. The question comes at the end of the poem after Mary explains that she's been sitting watching a grasshopper and strolling through the grass all day, "idle and blessed". The poem seems to challenge the reader to tell her what would have been a better use of her time. Take a moment to read the poem here. Or listen to Mary herself read it here.
Do you feel too busy? Do you feel like your whole calendar is mapped out, weeks or months in advance? As the warm weather of summer arrives, do you wish for time to savor it?
You have a choice. You have a choice to stop to notice the clouds or splash in a puddle, watch a lizard or greet the songbirds. You have a choice to go walking in fields or woods or suburban streets. You have so much more time than you think you have.
So with that in mind and summer at your doorstep, do you have a different answer to Mary's question? What do you want to savor during this wild and precious summer? Email me or share in the comments!
Need some help savoring? Check out Pie in the Sky, my quick and fantastic summer class that will teach you how to savor summer and get some stuff done, too! It's all recorded and ready to go for you, with lots of goodies! Spend just one hour and gain tons of savoring ideas. Details here.
Permission to live an ordinary extraordinary life
There's a reason why Pippin is my favorite musical. Pippin is seeking an extraordinary life. He sings about it and he searches for it throughout the entire show. He tries everything. War, sex, revolution. Being king. Nothing is right. In despair, he's taken in by a widow with a young son and he lives an ordinary and happy life on her estate for a year, until he leaves again, convinced that there must be something bigger and better out there - some way for him to do extraordinary things. With one last chance (spoiler alert) to go out literally in a blaze of glory, he balks. He ends up on stage alone without sets, makeup, costumes or music. The widow and the little boy come to hold his hands. And he sings, "I wanted magic shows and miracles, mirages to touch; I wanted such a little thing from life, I wanted so much." The last lines of the song are, "It never was there - I think it was here." It's ridiculous how it hits me. It chokes me up every time. It's a cheesy simple story, but I get it. I get Pippin's quest for a meaningful life, and I get his discovery of the meaning in simple things like love, family and just existing.
There's so much beauty and happiness in the ordinary. Today, a fire in the fireplace. Hot chocolate. King cake to celebrate the beginning of carnival season. Puffy clouds. Yellow sycamore leaves. Sunshine. Smiles. Simply being alive.
We're bombarded every day by stories of extraordinary people. People who have raised zillions of dollars for clean water. People who turned ten bucks and an idea into a multimillion dollar business. People who are changing the world in giant ways. It's downright overwhelming.
There are so many choices today. So many options. So much possibility. Even if you have an ordinary life, maybe you become famous because of your cute recipes. Or your Instagram feed. Or your memoir about your dog. Or your Youtube video. If you're not famous, you should still be doing something that's interesting to someone and sharing it somewhere - Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest - oh my goodness, Pinterest! Land of ten thousand ideas for a cupcake!
I ran into a former student at the grocery store the other day. She's amazing, intelligent, and has a great job as a writer for a local publication. And she shared with me how she feels like she needs to be doing more. How she feels this pressure to have made something bigger of her life by the tender age of 24.
Wow. What is happening? When did it become not enough to be a generally good person, make an honest living, take care of one's family, smile at the neighbors, and vote responsibly? Now that we have the capacity to reach nearly everyone on the planet with a tweet or a blog post, and the ability to read about nearly everyone in our assorted blogs and news websites and Facebook feeds, I see a lot of people (clients, myself, friends) running into "compare and despair." Now it's not just the Joneses next door you're trying to keep up with, it's all of humanity!
It becomes more difficult to figure out what you want. There's research to back up how people don't choose when given too many choices. They can't decide where to begin. The brain just shuts down.
Next thing you know, two hours have gone by while you've been scrolling through fascinating articles about amazing people, peppered with funny cat and dog videos. So what do you do?
Give yourself permission to live an ordinary extraordinary life. Focus on your interactions with people in the now moment. At the grocery store. With your family. With your friends. Savor the king cake. Notice the softness of the cat. The dance of the leaves falling from the trees across the street.
Sure, you can still have visions of extraordinary-ness. I have my delusions of Oprah (I'm going to be taping for TV again this Friday! - no, not Oprah!!) I would love to figure out how to do something really big to change the world for the better.
But you know, I like being home. I like talking to one or two people at a time. I like napping. These things make me happy. And they don't destroy the environment. And the Dalai Lama says that if each of us simply strives to be happy, it's one of the best ways to change the whole world.
I'm teaching tonight about money. And here's a hint about what I'm going to say. All those infinite choices? They screw with our money situation too. They cause us to lose focus on what we really want. It's like when you go to a buffet and you end up with a plate full of weird food that doesn't go together. You're surrounded by food and yet you feel yucky and empty.
Get still. Listen. Listen to you. Give yourself permission to lead the life you want. Simple as you want. There's plenty of extraordinary in the ordinary.
What do you think? Leave a comment and let's keep the conversation going!
Savoring Summer
Every year, when I think about summer, I notice this big competition in my brain. On the one hand, I picture all the good stuff from my childhood - a blank expanse of days to do with what I want, run around in the sprinkler, go to the pool, eat popsicles, ride bikes until it's too dark to see, read endlessly without interruption, and go camping! On the other hand, the adult part of my brain stacks up a bunch of projects and tasks that are going to get done "this summer". Like my brand new website. And cool programs I'm working on. And lots of writing. And house renovation stuff. The list can get pretty long. And worrying about or avoiding what's on the "adult" list or slogging through too many projects in one day both can cut into my ability to enjoy the fun stuff. If I've worked all day I'm resentful that there wasn't some lovely pool time, and if I've avoided or worried instead, maybe "sneaking" some fun in like a marathon reading session of a book I can't put down, then I'm also kind of miserable, because I didn't do my work. This summer I've decided to change things up. The first thing I realized I needed to change were my unreasonable expectations about what I can actually accomplish in a summer. Summer is not infinite, even though it seemed that way in early June back when we were seven years old. The other thing I realized is that I was tired of not enjoying the "fun" things because I was only half there, the other half of me worrying about the big projects that were sitting untouched. So I decided to get gentle with myself. I sat down and created a beautiful vision board for summer with lots of relaxing pinks and blues, and words like "gentle", "short and sweet", "easy" and "celebrate".
I decided to prioritize a couple of extra-fun things for myself. I'm studying French! I'm practicing French every day, something completely new to me, and it is such FUN! I'm also making sure there are plenty of excursions, big and small, this summer. About two days after I made this board, I headed out on the Appalachian Trail for a week, and look at what I saw on the first day!
It's like my vision board came to life before my eyes, with the exact same colors. The woods were full of pink rhododendrons and fluffy white mountain laurel. The clouds and sky were lavender and blue. Truly magical.
Oh, and the couple of big projects like my website and programs? Now that I've given myself some space and permission to have some real and unobstructed fun, they're happening too, in a reasonable and happy way. Free (mostly) of angst. I know - it sounds kind of pie in the sky. But it's amazing how some tiny mental shifts can make such a difference.
If you're in a similar boat and want a little more help getting your summer straight and having it be a tasty mix of fun and getting stuff done, you're invited to my one hour class called Pie in the Sky! It's on Tuesday, June 25, 7:30 p.m. Central, on the phone (recorded if you can't make it live), and it's going to be fabulous! Pie recipes will be included! We'll figure out how you can savor your summer instead of slog through it, while still getting some major stuff accomplished. Details and sign up here. Come join if it feels delicious!