Tag Archives: Mental Health

Aging, America, Creativity, Dogs, Grandparenting, Home, Intentionality, Self-Reflection

8 Lessons from 2025

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Well, here we are, at the end of another year. And what a year it was. It was chaotic, tumultuous, disappointing, and challenging. It was also inspiring, delightful, meaningful, and full of great lessons.

Here are my top 8 insights from 2025:

This is truly going to be a mish-mash, so bear with me, my friends.

  1. There’s nothing like the birth of a new baby to bring unbridled joy and hope into a family. The birth of our latest grandson in June was the highlight of my year.
  2. I have the right to invest in myself as a creative. In fact, I’ve learned (thanks to The Artist’s Way) that it is my duty. Yours too, by the way.
  3. I learned this year that America as a whole has the unfortunate ability to become severely morally injured. This, of course, is due to the rot in American politics and governance, which surely began decades ago. It is in 2025 that the cancer began to fully reveal its gory self to the masses. God help us.
  4. Adopting a second dog was an unexpected but wonderful development. Yes, it’s doubled the work for us, but more than doubled our daily joy factor. Worth it.
  5. Aging is a trip. It’s rough and humbling. Note to self: get that referral for a hearing test, STAT! My eyes are already going to hell, and I don’t want my hearing to follow. I know, I know, I know (and you might too if you read that post), I published an essay on this blog about how aging is RAD back in 2024. But suffice it to say, 2025 has altered my opinion on the matter (though from an emotional well-being standpoint, aging is indeed still RAD).
  6. 2025 readied me for moving from being intentional on an intellectual level to being intentional also on a physical level (see above: aging combined with being perhaps a wee bit exercise-averse has caught up with me).
  7. I am home. A quick Google search led me to this quote that enchants me, from T.S. Eliot: “Home is where one starts from”. What a gem.
  8. Going from 2025 to 2026, there are reasons to be hopeful, and there are reasons to freak out. Life is a continuous ebb and flow between unpleasantness/misfortune/disappointment and joy/connection/love. There are times when your cup is overflowing and times when it’s dry as a bone. If we could all get more comfortable with that reality and aim to be thoughtful with our responses to both the good and the bad, I think we might just come out ok on the other side.

So, cheers to 2025 and a big, hearty welcome to 2026!!!

The song I’m sharing today is a beautiful and bittersweet one that came out this year from an artist Mr. NOA and I will be seeing live this year.

*Featured image from brainyquote.com*

Aging, Humor, Intentionality, Lifestyle, Self Improvement

I Feel Bad about my Arms

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Years ago, I started reading a book (possibly a memoir?) by Nora Ephron. When she wrote something to the effect of “I feel bad about my neck”, in that she felt it needed covering because as she’d gotten older the skin started looking crepey. I stopped reading after that line, because I just couldn’t relate. It felt like she was speaking to women “of a certain age” (aka much older than me at that time). And my neck was perfectly fine, thankyouverymuch.

Now I kinda get it. Only for me, it’s about my arms.

I was looking in the mirror a month or so ago and decided I didn’t like the appearance of my upper arms. They are flabby and jiggly and just overall unattractive. As I enjoy wearing sleeveless tops in the summertime, I decided to address this situation with intention.

Now, I’ve always had little upper-arm strength. I remember being one of maybe two or three other kids in middle school who were unable to do that thing where you hang by your arms on a metal bar. I also have hereditary peripheral neuropathy, which causes my limbs to frequently give me that oh-so-fun feeling of pins and needles, in particular when I stay in one position for too long.

I figured the simplest route to reducing my upper arm flab would be to incorporate doing push-ups on my bedroom floor during my regular morning yoga stretching/praying session.

Guess what? I can do up to 27 sit-ups now! Granted they are not the traditional, full-on push-ups; they are the kind of push-ups where I’m on my knees so that it’s only the upper half of my body weight in play. Then, I will do up to 4 actual, real push-ups. Well, real enough. I estimate that I’ve gone from moving 1/2 inch toward the floor to 1 whole inch since I began this routine.

This might seem quite pathetic to you all, especially if you’re the sporty type. But I see it as a baby step toward my goal of having less flabby arms and a stronger core. If I just remain consistent with it, I ought to get results.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

For your auditory enjoyment, may I present an uplifting, groovy little tune sung by a one-of-a-kind artist, Ray LaMontagne.