1 800 CLAPPER

“I’ve been thinking a lot about mobility” is a helluva accurate way to say you’re over 50 without saying you’re over 50.

I was around a lot of family members with mobility issues this week. Some of these folks were experiencing good old fashioned degeneration that comes with age, albeit a tad early. Others’ issues were due to more lifestyle choices along the lines of ‘use it or lose it’. I don’t know how inspiration works for you, but I’m more often motivated by what I DON’T want than what I want.

I’m also not much for regret. Because I have personal experience, I believe humans are capable of dramatic change. I have a way of being (enneagram 7ness) that I don’t dwell in the past, present me with any turd and I can polish it to a shiny jewel, and I have a strong desire to mitigate any future regret. There is a downside to this (I can pretend I’m above consequences) but for the most part, this has served me well.

(As an aside, for years I drank beverages that made me fall down but I *just remembered that and that is proof of my superpower ability to spin.)

For instance, I birthed my daughter at an ‘advanced age’ but she motivates me to pursue vitality and yes, mobility. I even told my husband while out on one of our many weekend walks, “If I couldn’t do things like our 12 mile hike in Big Bend this summer, I’d really have to consider if this {gesturing wildly} is worth it all.” Dramatic much? Or not?

I woke up before sunrise this morning in a disturbing lucid dream state and wrote straight in my journal, “Why does not having mobility scare me so much?” Is it because I’d have to put a cap on my options, like never learning to tango in Argentina? Or spend days wandering the Louvre? Or walking the Camino de Santiago? If the possibilities that could make life amazing went away, then I’d just have to accept my average life. Why does that sound excruciating?

Next week: More on The Average Life ™

PS. Well, due to very life-y life last week, including a middle school graduation, a parental visit, a cousin grad party and numerous games of Scrabble, I was unable to list all of my new items in my Marketplace. However, I did manage two new silk fabric cuffs. Making these are a way to use up scrap bits and bobs and exercise a sort of creative improv: I never know how they’re going to turn out until I’m finished. I call them art for your arm!

An Invitation

I’ve recently embarked on a large writing project that had me going through all of my journals started since sobriety. I came upon one that I’d yet to revisit, my attempt at consistent Morning Pages in my second year of sobriety. Such tender and earnest expressions, I was so happy to have captured that as I hardly remember the feelings from that time. At the time, I’d been re-reading Marianne Williamson’s classic, A Return To Love. I only copied down a few quotes, one being “The truth doesn’t stop being the truth just because you aren’t willing to look at it.” Of course I was resonating with that sentence as a reference to my drinking, as I’d just accomplished the big one year milestone. But as I was reminded of that quote now, I began thinking about what current of truths I’m unwilling to look at today. There are many. Instead of addressing the parts of my life that were intolerable, alcohol dumbed me into submission, aiding me to simply tolerate aspects I was unwilling to change. Recovery gave me space and strength to slowly reassemble the parts of my life previously intolerable, the truths I’d been unwilling to look at, but it was like Sondra with a fresh year of sobriety under her belt invited current me, approaching fifty years on the planet and five years of rebirth, to take a look at all the things I’m still only tolerating.

“A miracle is a shift in perception.” —M.W.

How many times had I said that to myself in the early days. I know what that looked like then, but now I’m wondering what that even looks like for me today. I think it looks like continuously challenging your own hardened stories, the ones you are so convinced are true only because of their insistence and longevity. Because IT JUST IS. The questions I’m currently asking myself are: Am I really too old to start this thing? Has my ship really sailed? Can I figure this out? Can I do something I’ve never done before, even if I don’t see many examples of it in the world? I have come so far since those Morning Pages and I celebrate that, but I need to keep examining what else I’m just tolerating.

The truth is, I am turning fifty this year and I’m not denying that, but it’s also true that most days I feel better than I did in my thirties, so why deny that truth either. I was so self-conscious my whole life, fretting, editing myself as an attempt to control how others perceived me. It’s a tough exercise to retrain your brain to a place where you have zero inhibitions, but one of the gifts of aging is that it just happens, like you are retreating to childhood, aging in reverse. Do you ever look at those lists, the ones where people found their personal success much later in life, like Laura Ingalls Wilder, Toni Morrison, Julia Childs, Martha Stewart, Vera Wang, Lucille Ball. Now, do you imagine your name there? If you’ve followed my blog since the beginning, you’ve probably noticed I don’t talk about the work of getting sober anymore, it’s evolved as I have. If you are like me, you’ve been challenged by motherhood, sobriety and now mid-life where society may be telling us we’re done when we feel like we’re just getting started. I’m adding my name to that list.

Change begets more change. That’s just how it works. Being all in on something elevates you, from mood to consciousness and science has proven it, even though I don’t need science to tell me. Artists do a better job, in my opinion. Thank you, Marianne Williamson. Thank you to the female artists who never stopped creating. Thank you, Sharon Olds, I do in fact feel very lucky.