A crumbling infrastructure lies dotted with askew orange cones and mounds of dirt. Evidence of badly needed repair starkly reminds us that patience and unavoidable delays exist as part of travel. Because I like to go places, I usually curl up with my book or drag out my knitting and endure it, but today I reached for my ever-handy pad of paper and a pencil, feeling thoughtful. My husband/chauffeur cranes his head out the window to figure out the delay and pounds the wheel a time or two before he accepts the inevitable. And it leaves me wondering: in our life’s journeys, what kind of restructuring takes place and how do we respond?
Many of us find the well-worn paths in our lives need resurfacing as unfolding seasons and new challenges signal us to slow down. Ponder these changes. Participate in the process. Staid patterns require chipping out the concrete of being set in our ways. Cherish the memories but let go of the past. God’s graders level out imbalances where we let pleasure absorb time meant for reflection. Adjust with more time in the Word. Too often we allow ourselves to get rutted in paths of least resistance. Re-examine assumptions, set goals, remove from the calendar everything extraneous. Pot holes of doubt now make travel through dark times more difficult. Add more prayer time to the daily routine. We need those orange cones of humility to remind us we remain a work in progress.
The mandate before us is to participate in the demolition. Live with patience. Accept change gracefully. Remember we may feel 45, but the mirror unfolds the truth. As we age our daily lives need resurfacing in accordance with allocated days and dwindling energy, so we can focus on things that matter. We need to pour out from our lives the stories, testimonies, wisdom and faith that leave a blessing for our children and fellow travelers in their own journeys. We either embrace the process or time marches forward without us. Period.
The cars before us now zoom forward and I lay my pencil down, but with a resolve to increase my daily Scripture reading, set goals, adjust my activities, pray more often, and write down stories for my children. How will you participate in the process?
Whether the bane of adolescence still dots the landscape of your face or you want to embark on self-improvement, blemishes never feel welcome. We look at furniture, and scour the surface looking for blemishes that either add character or decrease value. That summation really says it all.
We subsist in a surface value kind of world. Blemishes rarely add value, unless they’ve been added with chalk paint and stain. The shabby chic crowd seem to prefer these self-inflicted blemishes on their furniture, but a scratch on a modern piece nixes the sale. They aren’t really blemishes in the chic world we admire, we think of them as art.
Blemishes, sadly never garner an ounce of respect. The first inclination when one surfaces, either on the face or in one’s life, always, is a grimace. Only with practice do we learn to appreciate the story and then the meaning and finally the value in a blemish. A story too horrific to talk about leaves a scar on the soul, but realizing the truth learned and survived gives new meaning to that blemish scarring the heart. Growing grace for grace equates with living and learning, and I’m all for that. I just also believe in accepting the process.
The face, particularly, remains a canvas where we eliminate blemishes. I’m right there with you on that! I tried this new Posh product on a thirteen-year-old grandson whose face was dotted one morning with all kinds of pimples. One application. That’s right. One application of a dot on each one brought noticeable improvement. By day’s end each one was drying out and many faded completely.
You can find this amazing product on my site, at http://www.madaboutposh.com. Look at COLLECTIONS, specialty face. And as for the blemishes in your life. Either learn to assign new meanings or embark on self-improvement. I love art, though, don’t you? I’m a shabby chic lover at heart.
If you’re staring at the gaping maw of 70, change is no stranger in your life. I first discovered the insignificance of science when I learned that the human body has 48 chromosomes. A few seasons later I learned that the normal human body has 46; the original data came from studying individuals with Downs syndrome. And just like that, it hit me! Science is fallible. These all-knowing researchers spout their hypotheses like little gods wielding truths, but their “truth” changes with each new discovery. As a population of oldsters, we doubt just about everything and believe in conspiracies everywhere. Eschewing the establishment became a way of life for many of us.
I bring this up because I see with growing alarm the idolization of knowledge, an infatuation with innovation, the marriage of our lives with technology. We boomers remember the mighty pen and paper; we still write in cursive, for goodness sake! We came in peace, but have been met with the constant and utter destruction of simple pleasures. The unfolding of a crisp newspaper with well-written support of profound truths has supplanted by sensational snippets on Yahoo masquerading as journalism. A simply brewed cup of coffee now requires a dictionary at Starbucks. I still haven’t mastered the art of brewing Folgers in a Keurig machine. I admit I meet each new change with dismay, no doubt a sign of my age.
But I firmly believe the nobility of science will one day cause the downfall of our way of life, and where will our children be then? Listen, I read One Second After, and I believe it! Pass on your anachronisms. Your children may need them sooner than they think. Bill and I often lament the loss of knowledge when Aunt Grace and Uncle Paul died. They knew so much about surviving on the land, and we didn’t harvest that knowledge responsibly. Mom and Dad died knowing things about living through the depression, little quirks we found charming, but now we really wish we’d .paid more attention.
So my message is simple. Be strong in the face of ridicule. Wear your age proudly. Relish being out of step with this plastic world surrounding us. Our quirks may one day save our children’s lives. Remember how to live a simple life.
Retiring Boomers face a world with fewer parameters, so my question is, what happened to sleep? Research deems restorative sleep, cycling through all five waves of the sleep cycle, as essential for brain health. And that’s the big cheese we’re talking about here! Make way dementia, because sleep’s gonna’ kick your butt!
According to the REST (Retirement and Sleep Trajectories) study, Boomers go to sleep about 30 minutes later each night post retirement. Their wake times increase by 60 minutes. In other words, the Boomers’ golden years, on average, appear to be restful.
So why are they napping so much? Admit it. You know an aging parent who naps off and on all day long. Or you’re looking at a retired spouse napping through a program on TV. Being a Boomer and married to a Boomer, and being part of the burgeoning Boomer population, I know things. Uncorrected napping threatens to become a Boomer national pastime. Let’s rule out sleep disorders and chronic diseases. SeniorHealth365.com sums it up in one word. Ever watch Never Cry Wolf? My favorite line, “Boredom, Tyler, boredom!” That’s right. Too many Boomers lack meaningful engagement.
In a world crying out for help, opportunities abound. First and foremost, find a side gig. Your wallet will thank you. Then start with service to your family, neighborhood, or circle of friends. And finally, look at our dysjunctive, dysfunctional, disturbed-bordering-on-pathological world, and fix something. Every week our home rocks with minions who need our love and attention. They take a lot of time, sap our energy, leave messes in their wake, and we love it! I immerse myself in a side gig that lends income as well as a lot of pleasure and influence in the lives of others. Find that purpose in your world and in return, earn a solid 8. You’ll rest better, I promise.
Brazil nut harvests are diminishing, which requires protecting the trees throughout South America. It makes Brazil nuts a prized commodity. Most folks could care less…until they realize why this simple nut grown in pods, harvested with machetes, and transported to a location near you is an antioxidant of growing interest.
Selenium just recently got promoted from being lethal to a non-toxic, beneficial, and then necessary element for the human body. Oh yes. It supports everything from heart health to testosterone production, and a host of needy body parts in-between. It enhances metabolism of fatty acids, which makes it an important antioxidant in conjunction with Vitamin E. Joint lovers, listen to this! It serves as an anti-inflammatory agent as well. Amazingly, longevity diets include healthy portions of selenium because it restores youthful elasticity of the skin. And where do you get it? Well, meet the little-touted but mighty Brazil nut!
Studies offer conflicting reports on the efficacy of percutaneous absorption of selenium, but it nevertheless stars in its namesake, Brazilian Bombshell, a Posh body butter. Yup. Pharmacists use selenium to treat folliculitis (hot tub syndrome) and some yeast infections. It combines with sulfur to treat dandruff. But in Posh, the essential oil of the Brazil nut creates a wonderful fragrance. It wafts over me when I apply it, and I close my eyes, smelling a beach. It’s just that wonderful. And selenium? What a great bonus!
Do I want elasticity of the skin? Well, yeah! Am I interested in longevity? Well, yeah, I’d love to be around for my grandchildren’s weddings. I didn’t think I liked the taste of Brazil nuts, but chopped up and added to things, they aren’t half bad. Better yet, I like absorbing its benefits through my skin. Long live Brazilian Bombshell, the Posh-lover’s favorite!!! (You can find it at http://www.madaboutposh.com and clicking on COLLECTIONS, body.)
I’m starting a new revolution. Forget Peace and Love. Ignore the rude world of politics. Boomers, join my new movement, which I call Make Mondays Great Again! Monday is my favorite day of the week. I know, I know, some of you, with stones in hand, prepare to destroy such heresy here on the spot, but bear with me.
Monday got stigmatized long ago by people who hate their J-O-Bs. Pure and simple. Let me list the dazzling facts surrounding Mondays for you proselytes.
- Mondays symbolize “new beginnings with no mistakes in them,” as Anne-with-an-E stated so poignantly. I know, she thought she was talking about tomorrows, but I’ve got her covered here. She meant Mondays. Truth. Everyone starts over on Mondays, each allotted an equal chance of weekly greatness. Gotta’ love it! Vote for Mondays!!
- The madness of insane weekends disappears on Mondays. Weekenders, be they hip hop night-life lovers or Sunday go-to-meeting devotees, all end Sunday feeling just a little on the whipped to well done side of the platter. Gotta’ love Mondays! Inhale. Take a deep breath. Smell the fresh morning dew. Vote for Mondays!!
- Mondays begin in third gear. Everyone stumbles out of bed, reaches for the joe, and tiptoes into the week. That laid back entry, as opposed to the Tuesday being thrown to the wolves dynamic, just makes me smile. Gotta’ love Mondays. Yes, vote for Mondays!!!
So, Boomers, unite! Spread the word. Hang posters. Write editorials. Let’s Make Mondays Great Again. If Monday is your Nemesis, think of joining me. I make Mondays fun!!!