Shine (Stick Figure)

[photo credit:  Sarah]

So... I turned 70 years old this past Monday (August 5) and, through a bizarre yet synchronistic series of events, we celebrated in Ormond Beach.  Too complicated to retrace the details of our on-again/off-again MossFam cat-herding expedition, but it also included a visit on Saturday to Jupiter (Florida, not the planet) with extended family (Uncle Andy, Aunt Jeannie, Andy's sons Drew and John, and Drew's son Brian; it had been over five years since we'd all seen each other!).  At this point, we didn't know if we were driving away from Hurricane Debby or directly into it.  Yikes... 😲

Halfway to our destination, we continued on another two hours and checked in to the hotel about 9 p.m., delightfully surprised by our room's spaciousness, elegant simplicity, and oceanfront view.  The next four days alternated between drizzly, windy, sunny, and everything in between, which of course didn't stop us from beaching, pooling, jacuzzi-ing (or, as Colin says, shacuzzi... 😂), putt-putting, basketballing, ping-ponging, Ouisi-ing, bedtime-storying, etc.  Family-friendly as well as relaxing... 💥😎

Michele and her crew met up with us Tuesday afternoon and, as she said, it was so beautiful to watch our now grown-up children with their own kiddos, who got along swimmingly (pun definitely intended!).

And Rob found the perfect casual beachfront restaurant to celebrate me, and after dinner we went practically across the street to a cheeZy souvenir shop (in fact, this entire getaway was so reminiscent of our longstanding and long-ago Ft. Myers Beach family vacations), where I promised everyone $10 (Sarah added the extra challenge of "in 10 minutes") to locate a cool find for themselves, and darned if Colin didn't choose a sharktooth necklace, just like Eric used to get... every. damn. summer... 🦈

No surprise there were multiple Eric visitations: Three Little Birds art in our room... an owl whistle in NovelTea Bookstore/Coffeehouse (where Michele and I snuck away to Facetime with our dear friend Rox, and to open presents)... a rainbow... perfect playlist at the restaurant, including Slightly Stoopid, Rebelution, and Stick Figure (Shine is my new favorite song of his; conjuring it for Saturday's concert... ✨)

Returned home about 4 Wednesday afternoon, but I pretended I was still on vacation the rest of the day, and only today allowed Real Life to intervene (unpacking and reorganizing and laptopping, oh my!).

I sat on my balcony this a.m. feeling waves of abundant Gratitude and Peace (the latter in short supply these last ten months) and, most surprisingly, Clarity.  It was as if all of my foggy brain cells since Eric's death conspired to unite in solidarity (like Swimmy)...

...the next level up from glimmers, to crystallize my inner vision and mend my broken heart.  The sun is shining through... 🌞

P.S.  All this to say:  I  need more Beach Time in my life... ⛱

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is the true joy in life, being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one.

Being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.

I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it what I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.” ~ George Bernard Shaw

SONG:  Shine by Stick Figure

BOOK(S):  Women Rowing North: Navigating Life’s Currents and Flourishing As We Age by Mary Pipher

How to Age Disgracefully by Clare Pooley

POEM(S):  

No one told me 

it would be like this— 

how growing older

is another passage

of discovery

and that aging is one

grand transformation,

and if some things become torn apart

lost along the way,

many other means show up 

to bring me closer 

to the center of my heart.

No one ever told me

if whatever wonder 

waits ahead

is in another realm

and outside of time.

But the amazement, I found,

is that the disconcerting things 

within the here and now 

that I stumble 

and trip my way 

through, also

lead me 

gracefully

home.

And no one told me 

that I would ever see

an earth so strong 

and fragile, or

a world so sad 

and beautiful.

And I surely

didn't know 

I'd have

all this life 

yet in me

or such fire

inside my 

bones.

~Susan Frybort

This Body by Joyce Sutphen

When I stepped ashore in this body

I was recognized at once

and given a name.

My bones were smaller, but the shape

of the cheek and the chin

are the same.

This is the only body I know: this color

my eyes, this color my skin.

Every scar is mine.

I have become as tall, as slim, as old

as I am. My voice has carried the weight

of what I had to say.

Words were scattered along the way: words

on gravel roads, in hallways and staircases.

Words on a wire.

Somewhere in a field, my hair. Somewhere in a lake,

my skin, some rooftop where my gaze rested,

some star, a wish.

This is my address on earth: temporary, fragile,

a name in the phonebook,

at the moment, alive.

Idea by Kate Baer

I will enjoy this life. I will open it 

like a peach in season, suck the juice 

from every finger, run my tongue over 

my chin. I will not worry about clichés 

or uninvited guests peering in my windows. 

I will love and be loved. Save and be saved 

a thousand times. I will let the want into 

my body, bless the heat under my skin. 

My life, I will not waste it. I will enjoy this life.

The Birth of Phoenix by Beth Weaver-Kreider

This is the story of the woman

who believed that happiness

lay in the sound of Anything-At-All

slipping through her open doorway,

who grew beyond bounds,

whose walls dissolved in a grey mist

to let in a garden,

a star,

and a small silvery snake,

who discovered the spiraling staircase

which led to the Aunt in the attic,

who plied that old woman with indecent questions

and robed herself warmly

in old woman’s laughter,

who carried the rage of the crone in her pocket

like a sculpted soapstone jackal,

who suckled that fury—that ravenous infant,

who knew a canary from plaster pretenders,

who built her own cottage of clay, thatch, and brambles,

who walked through the market,

unveiled by the eyebrows

of merchants and gabblers,

who swam to deep waters

alone like a manta,

who left the green waves for a road full of daughters,

who shaved off her hair,

to step naked and newborn

among glowing embers.

There Is a Girl Inside by Lucille Clifton

There is a girl inside.

She is randy as a wolf.

She will not walk away and leave these bones

to an old woman.

She is a green tree in a forest of kindling.

She is a green girl in a used poet.

She has waited patient as a nun

for the second coming,

when she can break through gray hairs

into blossom

and her lovers will harvest

honey and thyme

and the woods will be wild

with the damn wonder of it.

QUOTE(S):  "Do not grow old, no matter how long you live. Never cease to stand like curious children before the Great Mystery into which we were born." ~ Albert Einstein

“Just because you’re not doing what other people are doing, that doesn’t mean you’re failing or falling behind. You’re charting your own course and staying true to yourself, even though it would be easier to join the crowd. You’re creating a life you can fall in love with instead of falling in line. You’re finding the courage to do what’s right for you, even though it’s uncertain and scary and hard. Give yourself some credit, because these are all reasons to be proud.” ~ Lori Deschene

"When we are young, it’s the illusion of perfection that we fall in love with. As we age, it’s the humanness that we fall in love with- the poignant stories of overcoming, the depthful vulnerability of aging, the

struggles that grew us in karmic stature, the way a soul shaped itself to accommodate its circumstances.  With less energy to hold up our armor, we are revealed and, in the revealing, we call out to each other’s hearts... Where we once saw imperfect scars, we now see evidence of a life fully lived." ~ Jeff Brown 

“I try to avoid looking forward or backward, and try to keep looking upward.” ~ Charlotte Bronte

“And then there are the cravings... Oh, la! A woman may crave to be near water, or be belly down, her face in the earth, smelling the wild smell. She might have to drive into the wind. She may have to plant something, pull things out of the ground or put them into the ground. She may have to knead and bake, rapt in dough up to her elbows. She may have to trek into the hills, leaping from rock to rock trying out her voice against the mountain. She may need hours of starry nights where the stars are like face powder spilt on a black marble floor. She may feel she will die if she doesn’t dance naked in a thunderstorm, sit in perfect silence, return home ink-stained, paint-stained, tear-stained, moon-stained.” ~ Clarissa Pinkola Estés

"Drench yourself in hope

It is always on the horizon

The sun will arrive

Gravitating to you

Seeking you

Warming you

With the golden light

Of something new glistening"

~ Victoria Erickson