Well, two women I loved and the “Pearls of Wisdom” theme the non-profit I work at has going on to celebrate our 30th year of serving the senior citizens and adults living with disabilities in our county. Because the traditional gift for 30 year anniversaries is pearls.
The two women I am referring to are my grandmothers, who both passed away years ago, when I was a young adult.
Both of my grandmothers were named Pearl.
Recently, I found what is surely the only photo in my family’s history of the three of us together. I, aged 8 or 9, in my red, snazzy, and bedazzled dance costume flanked on either side by a Pearl.
I’m so bummed that I cannot find that photo for the life of me.
But I did find these two:
Me, in my baby goblin era, with my dad’s Mom, Pearl.
What I’m certain is the last photo with me and the other Pearl (my mom’s Mom) when I was 19.
The two Pearls were very different from each other. Like, very.
One tended to stay awake late into the night playing solitaire.
The other read tarot cards in her younger days, which my Grandpa was vehemently opposed to. Something about it being “devil’s work”.
One was a great cook. The two things I clearly remember her making on the regular was chili with big chunks of celery, stewed tomatoes, and spaghetti. It was more like soup, but my mouth waters whenever I recall how delicious it was. The other was white cake with chocolate frosting. I remember there always seemed to be one of those cakes sitting on top of her washing machine (why there is beyond me).
The other Pearl comes to mind when I smell Noxema. The woman used it religiously. Speaking of religion, she was a believer of the evangelical pentacostal variety. She donated gobs of money over the years to the Billy Graham/700 Club nonsense. She was a teetotaler.
My other Grandma Pearl loved to laugh and socialize, (though I don’t think she was laughing when our family accidentally left her at Disneyland during our one-and-only big cross-country multi-family vacation in about 1974. A stellar moment in our family).
The other Pearl was a bit misunderstood and under-appreciated. I, along with several of my family members, believe she was living with an undiagnosed case of manic-depressive or bipolar mental illness. She could be super silly but also super not. We never knew what version of her to expect when we came to visit. One famous story from my mom’s youngest sister was when her friend Ruthie came to hang out after school, Grandma Pearl, for whatever reason, wanted her gone. She told Ruthie, “why don’t you go home and get acquainted with your own mother?” My aunt was mortified!
I’d really like to learn more about my two Pearls. Perhaps I will bite the bullet and sign up for one of those ancestry dna sites, so I can learn more about their lives before they became my Grandmas. Maybe that’d give me more of a notion of what their “pearls of wisdom” would be if they were still here with the rest of us.
Please don’t hold back with sharing your “pearls of wisdom” with me in the comments. The more original, the better!
In a work setting, have you ever had to participate in an exercise, individually, then gather as a group later to discuss the experience?
I have. It made me super uncomfortable. Which I suppose is the point of these kinds of things.
It happened when I was working for a non-profit that served senior citizens, which is the population the agency I now work for serves.
The exercise was about uncovering our unconscious bias. Individually, we were directed to view images of different sorts of people. Hispanic, Black, Young, Male, Old, Asian, White, Female, etc. You get the gist. We were to, without thinking, select which of two images before us that we preferred (to work with). To just go with our instincts, suspending self-judgement.
A tall order.
The most disturbing result, for me, was that my preference skewed towards young people. I was working at a place that served old people, folks. It made me question everything. Am I an ageist? Am I not supposed to be serving senior citizens because of my unconscious bias? Should I switch paths and become a teacher, like my Dad always thought I should?
I was beside myself for a bit.
But, that was then and this is now. In the ensuing years, my perspective on aging and relating with older people has evolved. I’ve certainly moved past feeling terrible about this revelation.
It’s true that I love interacting with young people. I’ve got a grandson who just turned 10 and I embrace being his grandma. I find him, as well as plenty of other people younger than me, inspiring. Being in the company of youngins invigorates me. It often gives me hope for our collective future as a species.
It’s also true that there are plenty of people older, in some cases, quite a bit older than I, who I greatly enjoy being around. Those elders I find interesting, wise, and inspiring. Not only do I have the great fortune of having a pair of second parents (Mr. NOA’s mom and dad) in my life, but I also get opportunities to interact with other senior citizens in my work life (clients and volunteers) regularly.
These people model for me generosity of spirit. Generosity of wisdom. Generosity of their time and their money. I wholeheartedly respect and appreciate them for that.
And, it’s not lost on me that I am a Gen X’r (who is actively pondering what that even means to me personally) who is a senior citizen herself. I mean, most senior discounts are given once you turn 55…and I’m 2 years beyond that now.
I guess my point is this (and yes, this makes me sound like the seasoned crone I am): age, smage. I’m more interested in other characteristics of those I work and spend time with, such as their senses of humor, their talents and skills, and their outlooks on life.
As a nation and a world, we are living in interesting times. We all have our unconscious biases, whether we participate in exercises that reveal them or not. Ageism is but one “ism” that we ought to be honestly and openly discussing, don’t you think?
Later this month, I’ll be turning 57. I’m closer to the end of my life on this earth than I am to the beginning of it.
I realize that sounds dramatic, but it’s true.
This is why I feel a sense of urgency to get on with living a fuller life. I want to have the experiences that, and conversations with people who light me up and expand my worldview. I say this of course for self-serving reasons to an extent, but my true, ultimate goal is to leave a positive mark on the world when all is said and done. When I am said and done.
Yes, that was a bit on the dramatic side too, but it’s also true. Another truth: I waver between taking myself too seriously and not taking myself seriously enough.
This urgency I feel is the crux of why “growth” is my word of the year. I can’t expect the things I want to happen to actually happen if I don’t grow.
Bottom line for me is that time is a precious commodity that I’ve gotten really good at wasting. And I’m done with that baloney.
I have come to the understanding that being in my 50’s is pretty rad.
Do you all remember the actor Justine Batemen from the 80’s sitcom “Family Ties”? She inspired me to re-think aging, back when I saw this video in 2023.
The one thing I love about being in my 50’s is the wisdom I’ve gained. As Justine said in this clip, I’ve never been smarter and never had more connections now that I’m older. It’s true. It’s true for all of us who are in our 50’s and beyond, don’t you think?
Not that I couldn’t be smarter or have even more connections. That’s yet another reason that “growth” is my WOTY.
At almost 57, I’m more confident and aware of the skills I have which were gained through trial and error. I am more aware of my shortcomings but, and this is the most important part: I’m not as obsessed with them as I once was.
I recently joined Threads, after exiting the app previously known as Twitter. I’m enjoying it so much more and here’s an example of why that is. I was scrolling it this morning and came upon a quote I’d never read before from Betty Friedan. It encapsulates how I’m feeling about aging.
Your comments on this blog post would be much appreciated, because I believe our attitudes about aging ought to be examined. Who’s with me?
Unsurprisingly, I still have Christmas on the brain.
And today I’m going to spit it all out for your reading pleasure. And it’s Tuesday, I’m off work, and the most important (in my mind) of the holiday-related tasks have been completed for me and mine.
Also, I don’t like feeling like I’ve over-promised and under-delivered to you, my kind-hearted readers, as it’s been about two weeks since I told you that I was going to publish more posts than usual on account of my festive-ness.
Ha! I crack myself up sometimes.
If you have someone you still need to buy a Christmas present for I have a solid recommendation. And since you’ve only 5-6 days in which to make this brilliant purchase, that means you’ll need to get yourself out of the house and shop local (small business local, not your local Wal-Mart. I say this because I personally could not find this particular item when I was there recently).
No time left to order it on Amazon, folks!
Before I reveal my last-minute-perfect-Christmas-present-that-you’ll- get-at-your-local-independent b8#$store, after stopping at your favorite cafe or bistro for a scone or piping hot coffee, let me say this one little thing about this item: it’s a book.
It’s a book in which, on page 43, the author writes about how disappointment, per research, is one of the most frequently experienced emotions, and one that is experienced at a high level of intensity. She goes on to talk about “stealth expectations”: meaning those ideas that come into our heads that we let play out like a mini-movie, which we often foolishly keep secret from everyone around us.
Stealth expectations. Something I’ve often had but never had a term for. It was mind-blowing for me to re-read this section of this book one late night earlier this month. It completely reflects how I’ve been going about life, in particular the holiday season, year after year.
That’s why I’m going to let (Christmas related) things be. If I don’t get around to making those pretzel rods dipped in chocolate, re-purposing those old Christmas cards into works of art with my 9 year old grandson while we sing Christmas Carols and eat cookie dough, if I don’t find the right Christmas-y cocktail to make for our guests…it’s all good.
Now, if I can carry this warning about “stealth expectations” into how I operate into the new year, I think I just might continue to be able to say “it’s all good”.
Ok, now for my perfect Christmas present for any adults still on your list:
“Atlas of the Heart” by Brene Brown. It will teach your recipient so much. That’s a Christmas promise from me to you!
Now, for a little collage of my Christmas decor (the most fun personal holiday task for me) for your viewing pleasure.
Merriest of Holiday Wishes to you and yours this season!
In years past I have ushered in the new year with gusto. With great big plans, ideas, intentions. Not so much this year.
That said, I do remain an optimist. I don’t foresee that ever changing. However, after 2020, I’m a little wiser. More cautious. More realistic. More measured in how I approach things.
So I’m not going to tell you all about the 4 things I intendam determined to do wish to have the time to master in 2021. I’m keeping that to myself for the moment.
I’m going into this year with my head on straight. As if I’m walking into a dark room I am unfamiliar with. Keeping my wits about me. Taking careful, slow, steps. Lowering my expectations to prevent disappointment. Using all of my senses to navigate this new year.
The one thing I am going to be intentionally focusing on now that the new year is upon us: doing my best each and every day (from the book “The Four Agreements” by Don Miguel Ruiz, which I wrote about here but not about this particular agreement, but whatever).
I think it’s worthwhile, as one who is taking the agreement of “doing your best” seriously, to ponder what that looks like. What does it mean for me personally?
One of my most inexcusable faults is that I am rarely on time for anything. I consistently fall into this weird mind trap, when I’m getting ready to go somewhere, of believing that I have time to do just one more thing before I hit the road. And I’m wrong about that 99% of the time. So I’m ‘fessing up. I know it pisses some people off when I waltz in 5 (or more) minutes late. It calls negative attention to myself and I need to Cut.It.Out. I’ve started focusing on getting places on time for real in the last couple of weeks. I think thus far I’ve made it on time about 25% more frequently than before. Give or take.
There are other areas in my life, well really all areas in my life, where I must do my best each day. Like putting in my best effort at work. Not putting any tasks off until “tomorrow” that I have the time and energy to do today. Listening to others when they speak and not hesitating to ask for clarification to ensure I understood what they meant.
Thing is, doing my best each day is within my control. And if I can look back on my day and agree with myself that I did my best, regardless of my mood, if I felt rested, or if I was tested-well, then I won’t have any regrets. And peace will reign within me.
Remarkable. That is the word I would use to describe my 2018.
In 2018, my Dad passed away. My brother in law did as well. My mom’s health declined. Our oldest spawn went through a hellish year with her possibly soon to be ex and we did our best to provide her the support she needed. Our grandson celebrated his 4th birthday here with us in Colorado, and started Pre-K in September.
He gifted us with this original creation, which Hubs and I found in our half-bath upon coming home from driving them to the airport to fly back to Wisconsin after our wonderful visit.
These nine little rocks shall remain atop this candle for all eternity
Our youngest spawn continued on their quest for self-improvement. Continued using their artistic gifts. Deeply contemplated their spirituality and became more emotionally intelligent and mature. I’m very proud of both our spawn. As 2018 comes to a close, I am cautiously optimistic about their futures.
In 2018, Hubs and I had lots of company and did a good bit of travel ourselves. We continued to engage in our church life and participated in community activities. In 2018, Colorado began to truly feel like home to us, and not just an extended pit stop on our journey as married empty-nesters.
While Hubs continued to practice regularly on his yukelele, his one and only New Year’s resolution (Yay for Hubs!), I continued to blog. Some experiences I wrote about on my blog, and some I didn’t (see note above about the spawn). For better or worse.
2018 was my first full calendar year as a blogger. I published 49 posts in that 12 month span of time. During this magic week between Christmas and New Year’s, I’ve had the time and energy to read and contemplate every single one of them. I thought it’d be a worthwhile exercise for me; a way to gather some insight into how things went on the whole for my blog this year. To start plotting my blogging path for 2019, make some decisions about topics I should continue writing about and topics that may not need to be covered going forward.
This blogging thing continues to be a work in progress, just like me.
Below, in no particular order whatsoever, is my subjective reflection on the top 10 published posts on Pollyanna’s Path in 2018. Meaning this isn’t entirely based on the number of likes, views, or comments each post had. It’s also based on 1) if I thought it was brave, 2) if I thought it was cohesive, and 3) if it revealed my heart.
This post was me essentially whining about my struggles as a blogger. Surprisingly, it got the most likes of all the posts I penned in 2018. I think perhaps I struck a chord with my fellow bloggers with this one. I also made mention of the new Facebook blogger’s group I had just joined and got gutsy and asked for comments, for which I was (gratefully) rewarded. I think the take-away here is that I need to do a better job of compelling readers to comment in 2019. I am open to suggestions on how to do that, fellow bloggers!
I think that this wacky post was the one I enjoyed writing the very most this year. I had such an interesting experience that day at the “Metaphysical Fair” and I wanted to take a shot at telling a true-to-life humorous story. And now that I’ve reviewed this post, I know that in 2019 I simply must have a session with a medium (not necessarily involving Tarot cards this time).
My most emotionally vulnerable post this year was written by my heart. I was so raw and struggling to make sense of my feelings and what our family had just gone through as I wrote that. However, the process of sharing tidbits about my Dad, the things that made him who he was to me, was cathartic.
Once in a while, because I am truly a “foodie”, I am compelled to share a recipe along with personal anecdotes about my relationship with the food I love, as I did here. Going into this process of evaluating my posts from 2018, I thought it likely that one of the topics I would cease to write about on this blog going forward into the new year, would be food. However, I have changed my mind. Cooking, eating, and sharing recipes is part of who I am in my real life, and having a platform to write about all things food (when the mood strikes of course) is just too hard to say no to.
A few times in 2018 I got brave, like I did here. I have yet to see this movie, truth be told. Now that it’s available on Netflix (or is it Amazon Prime?), I will surely see it before long. I like the creativity of this post but more importantly, I like that it was both a bit ballsy and 100% honest.
Speaking of being honest, I did not follow through on any of the activities mentioned in this post. I am such a slacker. Nevertheless, it garnered a decent amount of likes and it felt good (not in a comfy way by any stretch, mind you) to actually for the first time, make mention of fictional characters I intend to write about some day in 2019. I’m crossing my fingers that this blogging community will hold me accountable on this one!
My sweet, loving, hard-working, honest-to-the-core, and greatly missed Dad inspired this post. My intention when publishing this one was to inspire my readers to quit being so darn hard on themselves. And this funky retro sign with this simple but so important sentiment hangs on the wall in our office, right underneath my vision board (note to self: update this thing in 2019).
This post is one of my personal favorites. I was thrilled when I realized that it actually was well-received enough that another blogger included it in one of their posts! That is something I get a kick out of with this blogging thing-putting out a message, in a humorous way, that encourages people to do something positive! Like donating good, non-or-not-too-expired-and certainly unopened food to those in need.
I don’t think I realized until now, as I’m winding down my “Top 10” blog posts for 2018, just how much my Dad meant to me, how much he inspired me. This post is another tribute to him, and one of the favorite posts I have ever penned.
It’s important to me as a blogger, and an almost 52 year old woman, to have a good attitude about aging. To be real about it and embrace it. To not let your age put limits on life’s pursuits, whether it be re: your career, your hobbies, your sex life, the way you dress, whatever it is. That’s why I wrote this post about the women I know who inspire me on the daily.
My personal hope for 2019 is that I will grow my blog, make new blogging friends, and surprise myself (and the world?!) with my ability to tell a good story.
I don’t know the origin story for this sign. I can only imagine that it was something someone made back in the early 70’s and gave to my parents. I just remember it hanging on the fiberboard walls of my dad’s beloved garage while I was growing up. I can only assume that my mom couldn’t find quite the right place to display it in our house. Or she found it tacky.
But my dad had an appreciation for this sign. It meant something to him. It was hung on those fiberboard walls next to scribblings from family and friends from near and far who were visiting our house for one celebration or another. Dad got a big kick out of having guests sign the wall in the garage to commemorate various celebrations. He was quite the sentimental guy.
Yes, I christened myself the cutest “chic” that ever came here. I was a brat that apparently couldn’t spell.
I think first and foremost, this sentiment, these words, apply to the important concept of self-care. I think it’s easy to go through our days mentally haranguing ourselves about how we could have done “this” better, or how we shouldn’t have said “that” to whomever, or that we should have reacted differently in a particular situation. Something I’m trying to do lately is to put my self-defeating thoughts on pause for a moment and ask myself if the negative thoughts about myself would be something I would actually say out loud (or even under my breath) to a close friend. The answer is always, emphatically, “no”. I think this sign is an excellent reminder to be gentle (aka kind) to oneself.
I also believe if we have any hope of ushering in a kinder, less dysfunctional, society, not only for the benefit of those of us living in the here and now, but for the generations coming up behind us, we should endeavor to heed these words in our day to day interactions with others, whether they be strangers or friends.
What does this look like for me? I think it’s more what it sounds like, in my case. When I am frustrated with another person because they are jumping on my last nerve, if I’m being honest, these not-so-positive feelings are evident in my tone of voice. If I can be cognizant of this fact, in the moment, I can hit the pause button for a hot second and make the necessary adjustments. I think one simple tool is to slap a smile on my face. Then when I open my mouth to speak again, the words cannot help but come out in a kinder, gentler way.
Tell me, kind and gentle readers, do you think this sentiment has value as I do? If so, what does it look like in your life?
It feels to me as if the term “self-care” is being tossed around a lot these days. It’s “trending”, which I take to mean the concept will, before long, peter out. It will lose it’s meaning, it’s importance. People will tire of it, finding ways on social media to mock it and render it irrelevant. They’ll find another term to latch onto.
Ironically, I just googled “self-care” and on Merriam Webster, front and center, there is an icon of lightening next to the word “trending”. My point is thus proven.
Before this concept is indeed no longer trending, I’d like to add my two cents about self- care. I can only speak from my own perspective of course, recognizing that many people in the world are struggling mightily to survive another day, physically and/or mentally, so finding the time and energy to even ponder what self-care means let alone practicing it eludes them. Which really is a damn shame.
Bottom line: I am grateful that I have enough quiet time to myself, along with the mental energy to both identify what self-care looks like to me and the physical and intellectual ability to regularly engage in the activities that promote it. Especially during those times, like right now, when those people near and dear to me are experiencing life challenges that are weighing on my mind and heart, causing me to feel utterly helpless.
I think that in order to practice self-care in any sort of meaningful way, it’s necessary to define for yourself what it specifically looks like to you. However, taking the time to recognize why practicing self-care is beneficial for you should be your first task. My personal theory is that if I choose to not practice self-care, my ability to be emotionally present for my loved ones will be dwarfed. I will feel put-upon, frustrated, tired, and stressed out. By not practicing self-care, I will lessen my ability to find the silver linings in things as well as hindering my ability to be the best version of myself. By regularly practicing self-care, my chances of being effective at providing emotional support to those I love greatly increase.
Now, while I am admittedly an over-thinker, I cling firmly to the K.I.S.S. mantra (the Keep it Simple, Sister version) when it comes to what self-care looks like for me. I don’t believe any self-improvement endeavor is worth much if there are too many steps.
Let me share some of the self-care tactics that work for me. I urge you to consider what yours are and then share them with me and our blogging friends here in the comments, if you feel comfortable doing so.
I keep a regular sleep schedule and make it a priority to get enough sleep (8.5 hours per night has proven to be ideal for me).
I listen to my Soul Song and other playlists daily as they bring me joy. I find that listening to my music each morning puts me in a positive mindset for the day ahead.
Regular grooming of fingernails/hands and toenails/feet. As in, at home manicures and pedicures. Taking care of my physical appearance in this way boosts my confidence as I am out and about in my day to day life. And it’s a very relaxing activity for me, especially when I’ve got my favorite tunes playing in the background.
I regularly make to do lists, which gives me a sense of order and purpose. This tactic calms my anxious brain and is a valuable tool that boosts my focus on my priorities for the day, or week. I also get a little kick every time I check something off on my to-do lists.
I lay out my yoga mat and stretch my body and do a few strengthening and toning exercises every single morning. I follow that up with some prayer time. Expressing gratitude and connecting with the Spirit helps me clear my head and gives me good mental energy for the day ahead of me.
I ignore people that only have negative things to say as much as I possibly can. You know who they are in your own life. We all do.
I strive to remain mindful as I go through my days. For instance, really listening to people instead of thinking up responses to what I think they are going to say. Also, limiting the amount of times I check my cell phone throughout the day allows me opportunities to see and experience what is going on in my environment. I think it’s healthy to keep FOMO (fear of missing out) at bay.
I mentally pull out a phrase or mantra that speaks to me if I’m feeling stressed, such as “This too shall pass”, or “Let it Be” of course in song version because that is how my brain works.
In honor of it being Wednesday, and on account of having a head full of snot (I hab a heb code at the bobent) along with a shit-ton of half baked blog post ideas in there as well, I write this post today. True focus is eluding me.
There. I have successfully lowered your expectations. Now things have nowhere to go but up, right?
Like all of us, I am a work in progress. I am also subject to change. Call me flaky. Whatever. In my 50 years on planet earth, I have nonetheless developed some amount of wisdom.
I always enjoyed Oprah’s column “What I know for sure”, which was planted at the end of each monthly magazine her empire churned out. It may still be a feature, but for whatever reason, I no longer subscribe. Anyhoo, here’s my own personal take on it:
What I think I know for sure:
That we all need something to look forward to. It helps motivate you to get out of bed every morning, put one foot in front of the other, and navigate the ups and downs of daily existence. Even if that “something” is just a cupcake you’re going to enjoy on your afternoon break at work. Or a dinner out with friends. Or a family barbeque. Or a church picnic. Okay, secrets out. Food is indeed my biggest personal motivator.
That not all my blog posts are as good as I think they are as I hit that “Publish” button. Which sucks. But it also pushes me to pen a better post tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.
That regular exercise, even my moderately paced 25 minute walks around my neighborhood, makes me feel better and more capable, both mentally and physically.
That children in preschool and elementary school should be taught compassion in schools. As an actual part of the curriculum. We need more of that wonderful shit if we are going to have the good future we all want for this world.
That it is of extreme importance to me as a creative writer and human being on planet Earth to maintain my sense of curiosity about all things, big and little. My feeling is that if I lose this essential part of myself, I will cease to exist. Because I would die of boredom, of course.
That I will never regret starting this blog. I figure at the very least, it will be considered a legacy for my spawn and any spawn that have spawned or will spawn from my spawn. And if I made anyone laugh, that’s just the frosting on the brownie.
That the most depressing phrase that seems to be trending is the following: “It is what it is”. The only upside, according to me, is if you allow it to turn into this one: “Let it Be”. Because sometimes that is the best and most simple thing you can do in a situation in which you feel you have little to no control.
That the concept of a “Gap Year” for 50 year olds, of course should most certainly become a thing. I speak from experience. Nothing could have been better for me, upon moving to Colorado one year ago, than pressing the pause button on my career. I’ve had time to work on improving myself through reading, volunteering, and creative writing via this blog. I can see much more clearly now.
Okay, my song brain has kicked in, so I will just leave you lovely folks with this…and you can sing along because the lyrics are attached!
Pollyanna's Path 