Winter Solstice 2010

This one is a doozy. Present tense. Felt it coming on for a long time this year. Some pretty rocky weather for a while, with moments of pure bliss along the way. Singing = good. Baby = good. Recovery time = good. The rest of it is shaking down.

Lunar eclipse. Heavy duty one. On top of a full moon. The rarity equivalent to the diamonds and rubies that poured from Princess Saralinda’s eyes as she cried for the suitors who were eaten by the Todal (James Thurber, I adore you for blowing a six-year old’s mind with The Thirteen Clocks). Oh, yes, felt that moon a whole gazillion. My body knew that was coming all year long. Craters on the moon. Approaching hagdom.

And it keeps going. O Fortuna really cranks me up this time of year, and lasts way into the new year.

On December 22, 1986, my dad, a minister and educator, took his life. We buried him on Christmas Eve. I’ve spent nearly a quarter of a century with that, and it’s OK now. Remembering daddy = good. He would appreciate that we have kids to celebrate with this season.

This year, an old friend came to visit. Coincidentally, or so it seemed, this is the friend in whose company I was the day my dad died. We will see this friend again, soon, in celebration, which is the = good = cheery side of the season. Nice circle.

For several decades, I’ve celebrated my birthday (Capricorn = right next door to solstice) as a movable feast. Birthday goodness is already simmering on a galactic stove somewhere on the edge of the universe. Somehow I seem to know loads of Capricorns, and although we’re not especially known as gregarious party peeps, I can do group festive. Winter? Stone? Saturn? INFP? Fun? Well, yeah!

Retirement celebration. The tree topper this year is surviving the retirement process. Body slamming the bureaucracy/paper-cyberwork retirement beast was the most intense thing I’ve done in such a short period of time since the forty-eight hour home labor and delivery of my darling daughter. The phenomenal gift of a child from that effort = the rising phoenix of the newer, annealed edition of Me having delivered myself of a straight day gig. Big thanks to Ronni Bennett for urging me to acknowledge this huge milestone. I'm glad I listened...

Retirement: Month Two

We're not in Kansas anymore, Linus. Platitudes build up like vascular plaque, to be scraped into two columns: 1) so very true, and 2) you gotta be kidding!

Best laid plans--(1) This was a crying shame. After having drifted through life as a preacher's kid, vagabond, following wife, and PTSD-zonked recovering co-dependent, I bit the bullet and put together a plan for getting out from huge debt from alcoholic relationship and settling down in one place long enough to scrape up a pension, I was stoked. Out from crushing financial burdens (and I count zero as a blessing), car paid off, and non-penalized, maximized retirement and social security. I had a viable, kick-ass goal. The State of Texas went "Aha! Let's yank that right out from under her." Massive sabot tossed into the clockworks.

Adversity makes you stronger--(2) No it doesn't. Solving problems makes you stronger, and sometimes adversity stacks up so deep you're drowning in alligators. You gain strength from learning HOW to solve problems, not get beat-up.

My friend and fellow elderblogger Ronni Bennett send a congratulatory note when she learned that I'd retired and signed up for Social Security. She wrote of the day she decided to march down to Social Security and officially begin this new phase in life. Ronni stressed the importance of celebration, which I must admit was way down the list of what I mostly felt during that time: stark terror.

She reminded me that all of life's great passages are to be celebrated and enjoyed. And so I promised her I would begin to envision how I shall celebrate this step along my path. I'm beginning to see Winter Solstice as a fortuitous date. Remembrances of Paul Winter Consort concerts in the Cathedral in NYC, Howleluja Choruses, the urge to push, to grow out of the caves, the earth, the crypts.

This is the first Halloween I've identified with in a long time. Not as trick or treat, no little kids will be coming to my house on Oct. 31. More the feeling that the ground is being prepared for the winter, and readied for spring and growing.

The first 2 months of my retirement have been in turns hectic, despondent, excited, hermitizing, singing, way too introspective, seasoned with books and film. Realizing that other friends were correct in warning me of the physical crash. Your body telling you that you were unbelievably stressed out, and now you have to take care of it.

Like being underground. Cracking open a geode to find something unexpected. Dancing to new rhythms. Anticipating the light.

The sublimation of Ronni Bennett

Ronni Bennett is retiring "Time Goes By," her ground-breaking, nationally known blog on what it's really like to get older. Authentic, warm, humorous, and intelligent, Ronni led the way for many bloggers over fifty, and was generous in sharing her knowledge and wisdom about the way things are for many of us as we age. She even shared her blog space, inviting elder bloggers to guest from time to time.

She crafted thoughtful memes for her readers and blogosphere to encourage them to engage with each other. In one, readers were to choose and visit a blog from her prodigious elder blog roll that was new to us, and report in the comments to that post.

Ronni created and will continue to maintain "The Elder Story Place," encouraging folks to write the stories in their lives, offering a space to record memories, or special wisdom we received from our elders.

Ronnie researched and wrote about global and personal issues on aging. You can count on Ronni to be rigorous and timely on the latest information. She did not flinch from the truth. She did not sugar-coat getting old. She did find and share vital facts, figures, comings and goings, inconsistencies, legislation, the whole nine yards, on the latest, expert reports about age, aging, and how the US treats its aging population.

She issued a call to arms to learn about and vigorously resist the insidious S.B. 1959.

Oh, frabjous day! Ronni has reconsidered! That doesn't change this post a whit. I am relieved that she is still with us on this journey into elderhood.

Thank you, Ronni!

Imagine my shock when Ronni Bennett, of Time Goes By, invited eight elderbloggers to cover for her while she was away at Gnomedex and on vacation, and I was one of the eight! She chose quite a variety of bloggers, each with a strong voice and writing style (according to her lead-in *grin), and the posts have been marvelous. I heartily urge you to drop by and sample the pinch hitters and get TGB on your "must-visit" list.

Ronni has become the "grande dame" of elderblogging, and thoughtfully articulates the various issues of aging, particularly in a societal context. She is a strong proponent of tapping in to the wealth of knowledge and information of the Boomer generation, and a stunning voice in assessing the disconnect among the generations and more importantly, the commercialization of the myth of "eternal youth."

That she presented at Gnomedex (not to mention SXSWi and other techie conferences) and turned heads to focus on how elders are labeled as un-persons is an indication of the depth of her involvement. That Gnomedex put other presenters up on YouTube, BUT NOT RONNI, leads me to think that they need to take her much more seriously. I may call up Gnomedex and take them to task for slighting her. From all second-hand reports, she was easily the classiest act there.

That she is generous and confident in her own self is evident in her invitation to share her space with other bloggers.

It was a huge honor to be tapped. Thank you, Ronni, for your generous gift and your tireless commitment.

Shifting paradigms

This is the post from my recent guest blogger inclusion at Time Goes By. Figured it wouldn't hurt to include it here as well...

Kokopelliwoman's paradigm

Working for a university these days is like taking one step forward and two steps back. We received a letter from the Prez saying that the Texas State lege budgeted precious few monies for the next biennium. Then I had to "choose" our single remaining insurance plan. Next week staff dial-up internet goes away. None of this is inherently negative or bad. It is rather disconcerting, however, to realize that my Golden Years may be more modestly funded than I had planned. Prompting a reality check that paradigm shifts come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Some appear in a blinding flash; others span decades.

There's a growing flood of elders who cannot afford to retire, regardless of whether or not we enjoy our work. This is not a matter of stopping all meaningful work to embark on some completely separate, magical journey; ceasing work that you truly love, that helps you remain productive. For me, this means remaining at my current job as long as possible, and supplementing with a side gig.

I tried that for close to a year. Selling and relentlessly/endlessly folding infant and toddler clothing in a high-end retail store for 20-40 hours a week on top of my day gig. Brutal. I fell asleep every time I sat down. Paradigm as rug yanked from under you. I did get an interesting scar...

That was several shifts ago. Lately, the frequency seems to be increasing. I'm beginning to believe that aging is a paradigm shift per se. The adventures never stop. This aging thing takes a lot of ingenuity, especially if you have limited resources. Acting against my instincts tends to attract negative shifts, so I've learned to depend on my intuition. The trick is to surf on top of the changes.

When I was six, my parents told us the Easter Bunny was too poor to visit that year. I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. In one fell swoop, all my childhood icons crumbled to reveal my folk's solemn faces in the dashboard light of our '52 Chevy. I swallowed the revelation with good grace. A pleasant fantasy, nourishment for a robust imagination. After all, I was growing up, and that was good. I was satisfied with my new perspective.

Since then, I've racked up a few "aha" moments. For instance, I assumed that everyone lived by the Golden Rule. Wrong. Took years to sink in that the world is not fair, and that it was unrealistic to expect it to be so. About that time, I finally understood that the only person you can change is yourself. A little later, I lived in Sydney for two years. Australians drive on the left. I actually felt the shift when my brain reversed directions. Driving was easy--when you see oncoming traffic, you'll automatically move to the left. It was much harder to adapt when walking. The childhood habit of looking right-left-right before crossing the street goes deep. Takes longer to make the flip. Oddly, walking didn't shift back when I returned. I continue to move left with oncoming pedestrians.

Recent shifts involve health issues. We've all been there. Some not especially good news that rips through your denial and turns your lifestyle upside down. That cold ball of fear in the pit of your stomach that tells you this paradigm shift means business. You are closer to death than to birth. Death and birth are cyclical, in a benign interpretation of that particular paradigm.

Some shifts sneak up on you. Think back to the early 1970's, and to the groundswell of concern about oil and the environment. We predicted that in thirty years we would be in an oil crisis. I allowed myself to be distracted. I lost that urgent drive to save the planet. Look what happened. The mess is worse than we predicted. We're hardly batting an eye while the current administration burns the house down with everyone in it. I guess some of us were not so distracted, and got busy manifesting that which we most dreaded.

Here's a happy shift: I don't care if anyone finds me attractive or even likes me. Great for reducing stress and saving money. I don't have to listen to commercials, read advertisements, or be bombarded with exactly why I'm not OK with the rest of the world. Makeup ads don't move me. IMHO, "looking younger" is a fantasy, and a complete waste of money. I'm not saying one shouldn't feel good about ones' self. That's part of being healthy.

Listen up--aging is not a sin or affliction--much in the same way that pregnancy and childbirth is not an illness. It's just life, folks. Growing old is cool, considering the alternative. Replace those worn-out, shallow paradigms with making someone's life a little better, take a trip to Prague, or write poetry.

Good or bad, I'm in for the ride. From daily minutiae to world-shaking events to mind-blowing revelations, I'll take any lesson the universal gear box torques out rather than live with a brittle, closed mind. Shifting can keep you agile and increase your options. Have you had a paradigm shift lately? Let's hear about it.