The importance of being Patricia…

 

It’s no secret that getting old is just a bitch. It’s ironic, too, because the mere fact that you have bypassed all the others who didn’t get to be old, you might be the only one left who IS old…like I said, it’s a bitch. You might not be able to see well, hear well, walk well, hell, do anything well, but you are the one. The one here, who is old, but alive.

Now, how you choose to be alive is an entirely different thing altogether. Being a 50 something with a 90 something mother, and who had in-laws in the same boat, I see this dilemma (or not) as a predicament of sorts. On the one hand, there’s the person who fights. The person who is just pretty pissed that age has robbed them of the faculties that they have relied on to survive and thrive. And then, there is the person who simply gave up because, well, they were old…

Either situation presents a dilemma. A situation of despair on one hand, and a situation of struggle on the other.  If I were to choose, and I suspect I won’t have a choice due to genetics, I will be the struggler. I will be the one fighting to the end to preserve my intellect, my skills, my strength…whatever it is I value of my personal genius. And for that I am thankful.

There is great importance in being Patricia. She models the old we might all choose to be.   What IS old after all…? That’s it?? ok…well, then why the hell are we so worried???

-having lived for a long time; no longer young.

-belonging only or chiefly to the past; former or previous.

suffocation

The hot, hot summers of Texas present this possibility.
Suffocation.
Life, also, presents this in many scenarios.
Grasping for oxygen, we struggle for breath.
For sanity and legitimacy.
Suddenly revived, anticipating the next breathless encounter… 
suf·fo·ca·tion
ˌsəfəˈkāSH(ə)n/
noun
the state or process of dying from being deprived of air or unable to breathe.
  • difficulty in breathing.
  • a feeling of being trapped and oppressed.

bye..

Yesterday is yesterday.    And it was great! (mostly)

Today is today. And it’s great too! (mostly)

But, tomorrow is what I look forward to at the end of each today.

I know that each tomorrow is an opportunity to get it right and to make a change or a difference in my life and in others.

Walk through that door of yesterday and today’s yesterday and make tomorrow your next great today.

That’s my plan…

square peg, round hole

Do you know the old saying
“You can’t fit a square peg into a round hole?”
It has many inferences.
And, it is important to be intuitive enough to know when things are being forced to happen and when you need to follow the lines in the sand and stay on track. The wind will continue to try to blow you backward when you know that you MUST follow the lines and move forward.
Because it the right thing to do.

Sometimes moving forward doesn’t mean something new. It may mean moving forward where you are in that place that is stagnant presently. As oppositional as that sounds, it makes perfect sense. Sometimes the universe sends us signals that we ignore. Why? Well, think of how many times you’ve abandoned a project because: A. you forgot about it. B. You got frustrated with it. C. You got bored of it. D. It was too hard…
Well, as with most things in this life, unresolved projects, situations, relationships, don’t go away.

So, here I am saying, “Okay, universe, help me finish this project. I’ve never given up. Oh, yes, I’ve lost hope/faith, whatever, soooo many times, but I’ve never given up. Now I need your help, your guidance to complete this project and to make it whole. To manifest its intentions to the fullest”

And, with that said. The intention is now in full motion.
Are YOU on board?

We are our mothers…

’tis true. we can dispute it, I know you do! but especially as women, we ARE our mothers. In ways that are unrecognized by ourselves and yet are prominent in our thoughts, mannerisms and behaviours. (and everyone else sees it!) We fight it. We deny it. We rebel against it. Why? We love our mothers and yet we strive to be the antithesis. A strange way to honor the most influential and important person in our lives.

Does it need explaining?

In my mother’s day, you didn’t wear your “@%&” on your sleeves.

You just kept a stiff upper lip. I really believe there’s something to that.

It kind of goes hand in hand with our more recent explorations of “creating our own reality”.  If you live in your own misery, it soon becomes your existence.

that’s all…

In a fishbowl, we are

glug, glug

drowning in our own dirty water. unchanged. in need of clarity.

there seems to be “nowhere to run, nowhere to hide”.                                                  anymore.

we are at the mercy of intrusive onlookers, videobloggers, critics, judgers…no one is given a pass.                                                                                                                            anymore.

we are subject to abject criticism. we are exposed. and not necessarily truthfully.    we are not allowed privacy.                                                                                                        anymore.

well, I say NO mOrE.                                                                                                              anymore.

 

Don’t worry, be happy!

Looking back on this…ditto, bravo, and yay for me…

myblogisbitchin

I can clearly remember those insanely hot summer days where the only place to get cooled off was in the pool while my mother and her neighbor friends sat inside in the air conditioning playing mah johnng, and all of the kids splashed happily in the pool until the sun started to set. The 1960’s were a different time. Most mothers stayed home and fathers went to work. My mom was a “homemaker”. My dad was a highly functioning alcoholic. I guess I was happy. Probably about as much as anyone else I knew. But I did know that I always felt like my family had this big secret. When someone in your family has a ‘drinking problem’ it is the family focus. It’s the white elephant in the room. Of course, at that time, I had no idea that I wasn’t the only one. No one talked about this…

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