I'll See You in My Dreams (Bruce Springsteen)

To tell you the truth, I am not a fan of the Happy Heavenly Birthday greeting.  After 12 years of parochial school and a lifetime of Catholic religious upbringing (until I went away to college), I question the whole Heaven/Hell/Purgatory/Limbo scenario.  No one really *knows*, anyway... but, if I had to choose, my sensibilities favor the kinder gentler reincarnation theory.  Keep learning and growing with each cycle, being given the opportunity to work our way (up or down) the logical consequence of Karma.  

But I digress.

Today would have been Eric's 37th birthday.  Impossible to believe he's been gone almost two years (9/26/23).  I miss him every day and yes, there are times I fully expect him to step back into my life like he's never been gone... which seems normal because we incorporate him into so many things we do and say on a daily basis (especially through Sarah's Colin, E's mini-me).

To reprise something I wrote about Eric almost 20 years ago:  "My pregnancy with him was... unexpected... and he truly is a chosen child - he's been such a blessing, responsible for my gray hair, but all my laugh lines too. He's stubborn, witty, disorganized, kind-hearted, a know-it-all, generous - I must admit, when I get the most frustrated with him, I realize I'm exactly the same way."... 🤣

His life was going in such a forward-moving direction.  He had gone back to college and gotten his Business Administration degree.  He'd been dating a wonderful young woman, and left South Florida in March 2023 to be with her in Atlanta (saving up for a ring).  Found a great job up there too, which suited and validated his skill set.  Then, in the blink of an eye... 💔

Aren't I wise to have scheduled my monthly therapy appointment today?

SONG:  I'll See You in My Dreams by Bruce Springsteen)

BOOK:  I'm Not a Mourning Person: Braving Loss, Grief, and the Big Messy Emotions That Happen When Life Falls Apart by Kris Carr

  

POEM(S):  Make a Wish by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

 for JS

No cake and no you.

Still, I light a candle

on your birthday

and notice the way

one small flame

changes the feel

of a whole room.

I think of your light

and how many

gather around it,

how quietly you invite

the shadows to dance,

how gently one person

can change the world.

Loving the Gone by Sara Rian

happy birthday

they may not be here

to age another day.

but today we celebrate

that earth once held them.

because on the day they were born

so was one of the greatest loves.

At the heart of all grief is this:

I miss you so much my bones ache.

How do I carry all this love alone.

Please stop being dead

and come back home to me.

~ Nikita Gill

Love Letter from the Afterlife by Andrea Gibson

My love, I was so wrong. Dying is the opposite of leaving. When I left my body, I did not go away. That portal of light was not a portal to elsewhere, but a portal to here. I am more here than I ever was before. I am more with you than I ever could have imagined. So close you look past me when wondering where I am. It’s Ok. I know that to be human is to be farsighted. But feel me now, walking the chambers of your heart, pressing my palms to the soft walls of your living. Why did no one tell us that to die is to be reincarnated in those we love while they are still alive? Ask me the altitude of heaven, and I will answer, “How tall are you?” In my back pocket is a love note with every word you wish you’d said. At night I sit ecstatic at the loom weaving forgiveness into our worldly regrets. All day I listen to the radio of your memories. Yes, I know every secret you thought too dark to tell me, and love you more for everything you feared might make me love you less. When you cry I guide your tears toward the garden of kisses I once planted on your cheek, so you know they are all perennials. Forgive me, for not being able to weep with you. One day you will understand. One day you will know why I read the poetry of your grief to those waiting to be born, and they are all the more excited. There is nothing I want for now that we are so close I open the curtain of your eyelids with my own smile every morning. I wish you could see the beauty your spirit is right now making of your pain, your deep seated fears playing musical chairs, laughing about how real they are not. My love, I want to sing it through the rafters of your bones, Dying is the opposite of leaving. I want to echo it through the corridor of your temples, I am more with you than I ever was before.  Do you understand? It was me who beckoned the stranger who caught you in her arms when you forgot not to order for two at the coffee shop. It was me who was up all night gathering sunflowers into your chest the last day you feared you would never again wake up feeling lighthearted. I know it’s hard to believe, but I promise it’s the truth. I promise one day you will say it too– I can’t believe I ever thought I could lose you.

QUOTE(S):  "If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song." ~ Kahlil Gibran

"It's hard when you miss people.  But, you know, if you miss them it means you were lucky.  It means you had someone special in your life, someone worth missing." ~ Nathan Scott

"O Great Creator of Being, grant us one more hour to perform our art and perfect our lives." ~ Jim Morrison

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

Enjoy Every Second (Michael Franti & Spearhead)

Artwork: Thomas Eakins

Hello, Blogosphere!  Yep, I'm still around... even though it's been about six months since I posted here.  Oh [six-second-pause] well.  As we all know, Life Happens... and some of it's been challenging (🤐) and some of it's been joyful (Joni Jam in Seattle... 💖) and some of it's been balanced (☯) and, honestly, we wouldn't appreciate the ups without the downs, would we?  I continue to be grateful for every second I remain on the planet, hopefully effecting change, creating positive vibes, learning and growing.

Yesterday was my 69th birthday... and my initial plan was to read all day (have we met?... 😉) and I did, a bit... but mostly I had wonderful phone calls with my three amazing adult children as well as a few other friends and family... responded to birthday texts... and personally replied to each and every social media post (don't you just love birthdays on Facebook?!?... 🎂)

So, for this next trip around the sun, I vow, in true Leo I-want-it-all-and-I-want-it-now fashion:  MORE connection with family and friends... MORE reading... MORE gardening... MORE moving... MORE stillness... MORE beach time... and MORE Colin (I absolutely adore my just-turned-five-year-old grandson... 💞)

P.S.  I actually created a Birthday Fundraiser (a pinned post to my Facebook page) for the most fabulous True North Project; I am beyond honored to be a board member!  Please consider a donation if you're so inclined... 🧭

SONG:  Enjoy Every Second by Michael Franti & Spearhead

BOOK:  Daily Magic: Spells and Rituals for Making the Whole Year Magical (Witchcraft & Spells) by Judika Illes

POEM:  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.

QUOTE(S):  “You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.” ~ C.S. Lewis

“No, my friend, you are not ‘too old’. You’ve only grown into a hand-me-down lie. You are younger than your tomorrows, wiser than your yesterdays, confident in your now, centuries ahead of seconds, stronger for all you’ve conquered, and deserving of the levels you have reached. It’s about time to admit that you are timeless.” ~ Broms the Poet

Hymn to Her (The Pretenders)

"The old hag at her cauldron is perhaps the most enduring image of the Wise Woman and a remnant of a time when women were the healers of their communities. They were shamans, witches, midwifes, medicine women, and priestesses of the Goddess.

The Crone is a symbol of inherent wisdom that comes from experience. She has lived through love, sorrow, hope, and fear, coming out of it all a wise and confident spirit. Through these experiences she has learned the secrets of life and death and of the mysteries beyond this world. She has tasted death itself and watched those she loved make the journey before her. It is through her mourning that she faces death, grows to understand it, and becomes the gatekeeper between worlds.

The wisdom of the Crone comes only after learning the lessons of non-judgment and compassion. Through these lessons the Crone becomes the balancing scales between light and dark and between life and death. She is selfless, yet she loves herself. She is kind, yet she knows when to be harsh. She is free, she is compassionate, and she is wise. Only the Crone can complete the journey to the Otherworld and birth the Child of Completion.

The Crone is full of power. Her body is no longer fertile, but her mind is sharp and able. She no longer bleeds, keeping her power within her and owning it without shame or fear.

She is often seen as a healer, working in tune with Nature to cure ailments and guide those ready to leave or enter this world. She is the elder priestess of the Goddess; the Grandmother whose words are few yet priceless in their wisdom.

In myth the Crone is often seen as something to be feared. She is a representation of death and its mysteries. Things that are unknown are always feared, thus we work to know the Crone; to understand her wisdom and beckon her to impart the mysteries upon us. We surrender our fear and ignorance to the Crone and let her strike these overpowering influences down as a stalk of wheat with her shining sickle.

As with all aspects of the Goddess the Crone is not only found within the aged. She is in all beings at all times. She can be present in men and women, young and old; though age may very likely come before her lessons are fully realized.

The Crone is a cleansing force that sweeps through the world carrying away those whose time to live is done to make room for new life. She is associated with the element of water and the direction of west – land of the dead. She is the necessary force of destruction like the force of a wave on the shore; ripping away the beach and returning it to the sea from which it came.

She is the reaper, the comforter, the mysterious old woman who possesses the knowledge of all worlds. The next time a thunderstorm passes overhead take a moment to listen to the voice of the Crone. Feel the tears of joy and mourning fall upon your head and take the first steps to understand her mysteries." ~ Lee Hutch

Last week, for my 68th birthday, I was gifted with a Croning Party, which was just magical.  I could stop there but, me being me, obviously I won't... 😍

Backstory is that Cynthia teaches various classes:  Herbalism, Fermenting 101, Kitchen Medicine, Eat the Weeds, Homeopathy, etc.  She also offers one called Crone Me, Baby, Crone Me!... "for goddesses 50 and above. Learn to celebrate, embrace and ROCK the ages. We’re going to reclaim the word CRONE. We’ll learn what a croning is and how to celebrate the wisdom, love and magic that can only come from the growth we experience from the passage of time."  We of course are familiar with the three archetypes of Maiden, Mother, Crone (and years ago they added Matriarch between Mother and Crone to define the post-childbearing years when women come into their maturity, stability, and sexuality).  

So, back in July, I approached Cynthia about doing a class for my birthday, and inviting my friends; she could make some money, and we would have a fun as well as educational experience.  Cynthia looked at me, and said, "No... I would like to throw you a Croning Party!", and she was off and running. Sounded like a fun few hours of conviviality as well as wisdom; I was going to wait for my 70th, but one never knows what each year, much less day, will bring... and I am at a very good place in my life right now.

I love a good Worlds-Colliding event, so I invited five of my Besties (Nancy, Kathy, SusanP, Suzanne, and of course my daughter Sarah), all of whom I have known for decades... and then five of my gardening peeps, who I've only known for the last year (Alejandra, Claire, Kiana, Katy, and Kerrie).  For various and legit reasons... Suzanne, Alejandra, Claire, and Kiana could not make it, and naturally we missed them but it did not slow us down.

This took place at Cynthia's home, arrival time 6 p.m. and, when we walked in, there was goddess/Celtic music, lippia sage tea, and a reverential hushed ambiance.  Cynthia did an amazing job putting together a ceremony, and made a headpiece ("crone comes from crown, indicating wisdom emanating from the head") of olive branches and sweet red clover, which I wore throughout.  She told stories, did some prayers and meditations, and then the gifts began:  nothing store-bought, but all handmade, handwritten, hand-crafted.  There may have to be a Part 2 to this, because I want to honor these creative contributions in all their glory, each one more thoughtful and special than the one before, including beautiful words spoken to, and written for, me.  Unlike baseball, to paraphrase Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own, "there *is* crying in croning!".  Happy tears, yet tears nonetheless.

Leo that I am, I am really not comfortable being in the spotlight when it's about *me*.  I was a great emcee for my concert series because it was about the music; I could present a UU church service because it was about the spiritual message.  This was hard, and I got squirrelly with the love and attention, but I basked in it as well, because I took it in and radiated it outward.

Cynthia then led me into another room, where she'd constructed a Croning Tent (teepee-ish, with a beautiful butterfly fabric wrapped around it), and she anointed my legs with sandalwood, and my hands with frankincense, and placed a gorgeous shimmery purple scarf around my neck; we meditated some more, and she invited everyone else into the room to meet and embrace the Newly-Croned Me.  And then we sat back down and I was able to convey my gratitude to everyone for their presence in my life, and for accompanying me on this next step of my aging journey.

Then the wild and crazy playlist kicked in, starting with Respect (my karaoke song, if I did that kind of thing, which I don't), seguing to Helen Reddy and Kesha and Meredith Brooks, and I opened the champagne and we dove into the vegan spread of yummies that I brought, both sweet and savory... and we wrapped up about 9 p.m., everyone going their respective ways.  Oh yeah, and I made goodie bags for each woman... a poetry book, a magnetic bookmark, a Namaste (the divine in me honors the divine in you) candle, 2 packets of Yogi's Spicy Hibiscus Blossom Positive Energy tea, cute patterned footie socks, a sachet of my Bath Tea, and a link to a reworked/refreshed (segued from CD to Spotify) playlist. 

I am crying all over again just writing this down.  Such a dear, loving, wonder-full evening.  Dare I say magical again?  Sigh... 💖

SONG:  Hymn to Her by The Pretenders

BOOK:  Crones Don't Whine: Concentrated Wisdom for Juicy Women by Jean Shinoda Bolen 

POEM(S):  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.

A Manifesto for Aging Gracefully by Samantha Reynolds

Stand on top

of the heap of your years

like a mountain climber

on a summit.

Squint

and you will see patterns

in the scurrying.

This is wisdom,

feed it grace,

make time

to listen

to your crinkled thoughts.

Keep hoisting yourself up

or age will bury you,

a suffocating

futile

lament

for what was.

QUOTE(S):  "Considering the Crone. Not the one of decay and witchery. Not the old hag bent over and ignored. Not the invisible one who is relegated to the outskirts of society.  No not those subscribed beliefs of diminishing feminine power.  But the True ancient wise one who wears the Crown of light that insight, experience, and her true nature unfettered by the calls to behave and be quiet  provides.  Yes the Sorceress, Crone and Dark Mother which sit in the Northern, Earthen place on the wheel wielding the heart of the Elder, longing to be a contribution to her community by sharing her gifts of the medicine she came to impart." ~ Elizabeth Brown

“The Crone’s title was related to the word crown and she represented the power of the ancient tribal matriarch who made the moral and legal decisions for her subjects and descendants. It was the medieval metamorphosis of the wise woman into the witch that changed the word Crone from a compliment to an insult and established the stereotype of malevolent old womanhood that continues to haunt elder women today.” ~ Barbara Walker

Stay Gentle (Brandi Carlile)

[Art by the amazing A. Silivonchik]

First of all, I need to stop apologizing that I I haven't posted in two days, two weeks, two months.  Ack... and oh f*cking well!  Life has been blissfully, joyfully, delightfully... well... full... 😄

Case in point:  my 68th birthday was this past Friday (August 5).  I spent the morning in the Hope Garden, then most of the rest of the day at my laptop, and posted the following a few minutes before midnight (here's the fundraiser I created to benefit The Caring Community, which has changed my life over the last year.  My goal was $200, which has, only four days in, more than doubled... 💖):

" “There’s a particular feeling in your body when something goes right after a long time of things going wrong. It feels warm and sweet and loose... For a moment all my bees have turned to honey.” ~ Lily King, Writers & Lovers

Thanks again to my friends and family for contributing (via your posts and comments, text messages, phone calls, fundraiser donations, gifts, etc.) to one of the best birthdays I've had in a very long time.  Many of you know I deactivated my Susan Moss account in late-December 2019, meaning I went two years without fanfare, until I was encouraged to create a "ghost" profile (Daisy!) for my gardening presence.  Despite its many frustrations and glitches, there is really just nothing like a Facebook birthday!  I am grateful to you all for making me feel loved and appreciated... 🌼

This aging thing is not for the faint of heart but, so far, I still have my original knees, hips, shoulders... as well as eyes, lungs, and kidneys (none of which I take for granted).  I'd like to think I have also retained my generosity of spirit, my unrelenting optimism, my joie de vivre.  I can even get out in the garden every week, although this summer's heat has taken its toll on my endurance.  Biggest lesson:  Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate!

Actually, no; it's Expectations.  Inheritance from my mom + Leo tendencies = disaster.  One of my major life lessons in the last decade has been letting go of them (I have slips now and then), and I find that life is easier and I am happier as a result.  New Day, Tabula Rasa, Starting Over has become a mantra.  I am also working harder to re-set my boundaries, such that everyone's default is based on a respectful, loving place.  If we model it, they will come (around...  😍)

As Joni sings:  

"Calendars of our lives circled with compromise

Sweet bird of time and change, you must be laughing..."

So am I! "

And then this:

FREE WILL ASTROLOGY, week beginning August 4, copyright 2022 by Rob Brezsny

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): In the coming weeks, Leo, I urge you to always be confident that YOU ARE THE PARTY! Everywhere you go, bring the spirits of fun and revelry. Be educationally entertaining and entertainingly educational. Amuse yourself by making life more interesting for everyone. At the same time, be kind and humble, never arrogant or insensitive. A vital part of your assignment is to nourish and inspire others with your radiance and charm. That formula will ensure you get everything you need. I foresee bounty flowing your way! PS: Regularly reward your admirers and followers with your magnanimous Chesire-cat grin.

And this:  August 5 birthdays:  Neil Armstrong, Wendell Berry, Loni Anderson, Rick Derringer, Maureen McCormick, Mark O'Connor (to name the ones I recognize!)

P.S.  Cynthia is throwing a Croning Party for me next week, which will most certainly be blogworthy... ✌ 💥 💞

SONG:  Stay Gentle by Brandi Carlile

BOOK:  To The Women: words to live by... by Donna Ashworth

POEM(S):  Change the Way You See by Donna Ashworth

I don’t have crow’s feet,

I have happy happy memories of laughing with friends until the tears flowed.

I don’t have frown lines,

I have the marks of my frustration and confusion, which I battled through, smiling in the end.

I am not going grey,

I have shimmering highlights of wisdom, dashed throughout my silver hair.

I don’t have scars,

I have symbols of the strength I was able to find, when life got tough.

I don’t have stretch marks,

I have the marks of growth and the marks of motherhood. My womanly evolution.

I am not fat,

I bear the evidence of a life filled with abundance, blessings and good times.

I am not just forgetful,

I have a mind so full of stories, memories and moments there is scarce room to hold much else.

I am not old,

I am blessed, with a life of great length, something not everyone can say.

Don’t change the way you look my friend,

change the way you see,

change the way you see.

home body by rupi kaur

give me laugh lines and wrinkles

i want proof of the jokes we shared

engrave the lines into my face like

the roots of a tree that grow deeper

with each passing year

i want sunspots as souvenirs

for the beaches we laid on

i want to look like i was

never afraid to let the world

take me by the hand

and show me what it’s made of

i want to leave this place knowing

i did something with my body

other than trying to

make it look perfect

QUOTE(S):  “I want to live the rest of my life, however long or short, with as much sweetness as I can decently manage, loving all the people I love, and doing as much as I can of the work I still have to do. I am going to write fire until it comes out of my ears, my eyes, my noseholes, everywhere. Until it's every breath I breathe. I'm going to go out like a fucking meteor!” ~ Audre Lorde

"I was pondering yesterday why I am enjoying getting older so very much. I think it's because of this fact: That unless you are making a sincere effort to wake up early every single morning and work hard at staying stupid, then you are probably — just by sheer default — getting smarter as you age. (Because seriously — you've gotta REALLY not be paying attention to life, to not be getting even a little bit more wise as you go along.) All that I have ever wanted and longed for was to be wiser, smarter, more clear, more peaceful, more expansive, more prepared for life. The years are bringing that intelligence, my dears... the years are bringing it at last. (And not a moment too soon, may I add.) I look forward to all that I have yet to learn. I plan to keep paying attention, and to let it all in. Stronger by the year, better by the day. It's awesome." ~ Elizabeth Gilbert

Trip Around the Sun (Jimmy Buffett & Martina McBride)

Posting this at 12:10 a.m., August 5; today is my 67th birthday!  What a boring, nondescript number/age but, hey, I'm just glad to still be on this planet, not only doing well but Doing Good, as evidenced by my new ventures (elaborated on in my last few blog posts).

It's actually been a good year since August 2020 (of course the bar was low from last year's sh*tshow), as we celebrated the election of a new President and Vice President (Joe and Kamala!), and are having regular press conferences again (Jen Psaki!)... most of us have chosen to get the COVID vaccine (if only we could convince the hold-outs to step it up, as their hesitation has allowed the Delta variant to run rampant)... we're watching the year-delayed Olympics... we're in process of auditioning a replacement for Jeopardy's Alex Trebek (I have some favorites, of course, including this week's David Faber, who I'd never even heard of before Monday)... live music and hugs are back in my life, although cautiously, given the aforementioned outbreak... my grandson Colin has only gotten funnier, more verbal, cuter (as if that were even possible!).

Doing my first volunteer stint this morning from 9-11 a.m. in the community outreach garden (so excited!), have plans to get together with Rob and Sarah for lunch (the new vegan wrap at Pollo Tropical), and not a clue what's in store for the rest of the day, but I have no doubt I'll be pleasantly surprised with well-wishes of all types.

I am still without social media so, I would love to ask, as I did last year that, at some point, if you are reading this, could you please wish me a Happy Birthday in the Comments box below (moderated, so it might not show up right away!) and let me know what you're reading (or not... 😍 )

Thanks in advance for celebrating with me, and much love always... 💖

My NR:  My Autobiography of Carson McCullers: A Memoir by Jenn Shapland

Also, bonus horoscope overview; interesting reflections/predictions, and some of it is already happening!

Leo has a reputation for being self-focused, but this year you will feel as if the self you've so carefully constructed is being unraveled. The people you feel closest to will offer you reflections about who you are, and the truth may bring about a shift of radical proportions. 

New people will come into your life to assist you in uncovering more of your uniqueness and even eccentricities. Allow yourself to become a wilder, stranger version of yourself. 

With partners and close friends, there may be challenges as you learn more about what you need in order to feel loved. The key to success this year involves letting go of stubborn tendencies with regard to your significant others, and instead allowing more freedom and space between you and your beloveds. 

if you set love free, it could lead to even more security. 

Take time in late spring and summer to reevaluate your own aspirations and dreams for your life. Is the universe urging you to take on more of a leadership role in your community? Are you striving to live up to ideals that are unrealistic?

Are you too scattered to come up with a plan for the future? 

You are learning how to balance your desire for social stimulation with the need to make a lasting contribution to the world. 

Rather than than over-relying on yourself, listen to your chosen family and the broader community to see how your creative gifts may be best utilized. 

~ Rhea Wolf © Mother Tongue Ink 2020

SONG:  Trip Around the Sun by Jimmy Buffett (with Martina McBride)

BOOK(S):  Heart Talk: Poetic Wisdom for a Better Life by Cleo Wade

Shit I Can't Remember: Organizer, Log Book & Notebook for Passwords and Shit by Phil D. Organizers

POEM:  A Whole Other Stage by Judith Viorst

I've reached the stage where my lawyer, my broker, my allergist, and my president are all significantly younger than I.

I've reached the stage where I recognize, when I'm buying new living-room drapes or a new set of dishes, that they're likely to be the last ones that I'll ever buy.

And when I'm starting to tell my friends some really terrific story, and I ask them whether I've told them this story before, and no matter what story I've started to tell, they say yes,

I know I have reached a whole other stage.

I've reached the stage where I find that most of the spaces I used to park in are now too small for my car.

I've reached the stage where I'm no longer able to call myself middle-aged because that's what my children are.

And when going to see two movies at two separate theaters on the same day, followed by eating a sausage-and-anchovy pizza, is what I'm defining as orgiastic excess,

I know that I have reached a whole other stage.

I've reached the stage where a lot of the reading I'm doing is at the market checking salt-free and fat-free and expiration dates.

I've reached the stage where nobody bothers to look at my driver's license when I want to purchase tickets at senior rates.

And when I'm out of town and I phone my husband at six A.M., and I ring and ring but he doesn't answer the phone, and my first thought is not infidelity but cardiac arrest,

I know that I have reached a whole other stage.

I've reached the stage where the people with whom I once discussed Marcel Proust are discussing inheritance taxes and living wills.

I've reached the stage where I couldn't leave my house for twenty-four hours unaccompanied by eight different kinds of pills.

And when I have to admit that, offered the choice, I'd - unhesitatingly - give up a night of wild rapture with Denzel Washington for a nice report on my next bone density test,

I know that I have reached a whole other stage.

QUOTE(S):  "And so it is of human life the goal to seek, forever seek, the kindred soul." ~ José Martí

"To find what you seek in the road of life, the best proverb of all is that which says:  Leave no stone unturned." ~ Edward Bulwer-Lytton

My Shot (from the Hamilton soundtrack)

[Sarah's Besties gave her the "Rise up" bracelet a few days ago as one of her birthday presents; I bought the "How lucky we are to be alive right now" bangle for myself at the beginning of the pandemic!]

Recently back from an overnight getaway that was life-changing.  My daughter Sarah's 39th birthday was yesterday and, to celebrate, she wanted to check into a hotel on the beach, at first as a solo adventure but, when she decided she'd rather have company, she invited me!  Be still, my Mama Lion heart... 💓

It began as a west-coast-of-Florida plan (Marco Island or Naples), because of our memories of family vacation at Ft. Myers Beach as well as hopes for a sunset viewing; unfortunately weather reports on that side of the state were not favorable, so tag, Ft. Lauderdale Beach, you're it!

I told her I'd supply breakfasts, lunches, snacks (all vegan, of course!), and beverages (alcohol- and non-) for the trip.  A bit of backstory is that I helped her make a mix CD years (9?) ago for a friends' road trip to Key West, and I still had a copy (!), so I popped that in as soon as I picked her up at 10:30 a.m. Sunday.

We got to the hotel about 11, and our room was ready so we were able to check in immediately (small Mom-and-Pop place, clean, right on the beach, 6th floor ocean view), and were down at the beach by 11:30 a.m., Bloody Marys in hand, with yummy vegan quesadillas, and seconds on Bloodys.  The resort fee included lounge chairs and an umbrella, and we were smart to avoid direct sun most of the day.  Ocean was very calm the first day (people were actually paddleboarding!), and we took multiple dips to refresh and cool off.  We segued to grapefruit vodka with grapefruit seltzer, then Long Island Ice Teas (cheers to Connie/Mom/Mimi!), then chick'n salad on whole wheat buns, then another round of LIITs.

Came out from under the umbrella about 3 p.m. for some sun; throughout the day we segued from laughter to deep conversation back to laughter.  Beach Chair Man said he was collecting lounges about 5:30, at which point the sun had dipped behind the building, so we went for a walk, and Sarah got the low beach chairs out of my trunk, and we sat for another hour and a half, then went upstairs to shower and change.  Had some wine, followed by Fireball shots (accompanied by a hilarious video that will *never* see the light of day!).  I drank more in 12 hours than I have in the previous six months.  This probably goes without saying (if you've met either one of us), but we are both fun "drunks" (nothing sloppy, belligerent, slurring, repetitive, stumbling); as I said before, so much laughter!

At that point, we hadn't decided what to do about dinner, and decided to visit their downstairs open-air restaurant about 8 p.m.; Sarah had a lobster wrap (with a side of the best fries either one of us had ever had!), I had a yummy salad with black bean crumbles instead of lobster and, yes, we also had wine with dinner... 😄

Back upstairs by 10 p.m., snacked on dark-chocolate-covered pretzels and oatmeal raisin cookies, and in the bed by 11:30 p.m., thankyoujesus with two extra-strength Tylenol and, believe it or not, I felt great the next day!  Sarah went out running on the beach (it was now officially her birthday... 🎂), back to the room by 10:15 a.m., organized our stuff to be ready for a 1 p.m. check-out, and we were back down at the beach by 10:30 a.m. with our second cup of coffee and a vegan breakfast sandwich. As much as Sunday had been a day of decadence and ruination, we declared Monday to be all about detox and rehab, only imbibing water or flavored seltzer.  We stayed under the umbrella the whole time, other than another walk on the beach, and a dip in their pool; we both started new books and, lunch was leftovers from the night before.

 

Between the breeze and the lulling ocean sounds, I managed to squeeze in a 20-minute nap; sadly, all good things must come to an end and we thought it best to get on the road no later than 4 p.m. so as to avoid rush-hour traffic.  Oh, I forgot to mention that we were toasting throughout the two days, with Sarah insisting on a selfie each time (I learned the not-so-subtle art of the head tilt... 👵👸) and, when we got back to Sarah's about 4:45 p.m., we sat in the car and scrolled through.  More laughter!

To quote Angelica Schuyler in Hamilton:  "I realize three fundamental truths at the exact same time":

~ I am in awe of Sarah's kind, generous, smart, beautiful, thoughtful, wise self.  Even if she weren't my daughter, I would choose her for a friend  

~ I can still do everything I used to do; it just takes me longer to recover

~ Although the priority of this trip was obviously Sarah's birthday adventure, it was also a much-needed getaway, to remind me there is a whole world beyond the walls of my condo complex.  I can be carefree, d*mmit!

SONG:  My Shot from the Hamilton soundtrack

BOOK:  Badass Affirmations: The Wit and Wisdom of Wild Women (Inspirational Quotes and Daily Affirmations for Women) by Becca Anderson

POEM(S):  The Daughter by Carmen Gimenez Smith

We said she was a negative image of me because of her lightness.

She's light and also passage, the glory in my cortex.

Daughter, where did you get all that goddess?

Her eyes are Neruda's two dark pools at twilight.

Sometimes she's a stranger in my home because I hadn't imagined her.

Who will her daughter be?

She and I are the gradual ebb of my mother's darkness.

I unfurl the ribbon of her life, and it's a smooth long hallway, doors flung open.

Her surface is a deflection is why.

Harm on her, harm on us all.

Inside her, my grit and timbre, my reckless.

Daughter by James Lenfestey

A daughter is not a passing cloud, but permanent,

holding earth and sky together with her shadow.

She sleeps upstairs like mystery in a story,

blowing leaves down the stairs, then cold air, then warm.

We who at sixty should know everything, know nothing.

We become dull and disoriented by uncertain weather.

We kneel, palms together, before this blossoming altar

QUOTE:  "What greater aspiration and challenge are there for a mother than the hope of raising a great son or daughter?" ~ Rose Kennedy

"I tell my daughter every morning, 'Now, what are the two most important parts of you?' And she says, 'My head and my heart.' Because that's what I've learned in the foxhole: What gets you through life is strength of character and strength of spirit and love." ~ Viola Davis

Wondering Where the Lions Are (Bruce Cockburn)

FREE WILL ASTROLOGY, week beginning August 6 by Rob Brezsny

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): At times in our lives, it's impractical to be innocent and curious and blank and receptive. So many tasks require us to be knowledgeable and self-assured and forceful and in control. But according to my astrological analysis, the coming weeks will be a time when you will benefit from the former state of mind: cultivating what Zen Buddhists call "beginner's mind." The Chinese refer to it as *ch_x_n*, or the mind of a novice. The Koreans call it the *eee mok oh?* approach, translated as "What is this?" Buddhist teacher Jack Kornfield defines it as the "don't-know mind." During this upcoming phase, I invite you to enjoy the feeling of being at peace with all that's mysterious and beyond your understanding.

We're only one week into my Birth *Month*, and it's been glorious!  First of all, thanks to all who read my blog (many, many views!) this past Wednesday, and a special thanks to those who took the time to comment.  The outpouring conjured memories of Facebook love, and I am grateful for friends and family who know that we Leos need validation, not always but sometimes.  My body, mind, and spirit are in a good place, as I have made a renewed effort to take better care of all aspects of myself.  My skin is glowing (thanks, Origins!), my brain is stimulated (thanks, Broward Library!), my attitude is dialed back to lesser expectations (thanks, meditation and yoga... and maybe a glass or two of pinot grigio... 😄 )

Check out the list of presents/presence I received (so far), which reiterates that my dear ones have more than a finger on the pulse of my personality... 💖

~ dragonfly crossbody wallet and cellphone holder from Melanie
~ Michelle Obama Becoming Journal (made my first entry today!) and card from Michele
~ Nancy Pelosi Patron Saint of Shade clapback candle from Stephen and Jess
~ Zoom call Tuesday night with Nancy, Brian, RobbyG, Dave, and Russ 
~ Parlour Vegan lunch sent via UberEats from my daughter Sarah
~ phone calls from all my children
~ thoughtful texts, e-mails (from Laurie, sharong, and CT), and phone calls from friends
~ aforementioned comments on my blog
~ phone call with my sister
~ WhatsApp call with Sarah and Colin
~ Chinese food delivery
~ basket of vegan goodies (most of them homemade), card, and visit from Nancy
~ card from Roxanne
~ Zoom birthday co-celebration with Judi (whose birthday was yesterday); call with Nancy, Suzanne, SusanP, Sarah and Colin, Jennifer and Elowen, Cheryl
~ 864511320 bumper sticker (look it up!) and card from Judi
~ Family get-together yesterday at our old neighborhood park:  Lala-saurus Rex (purple!) T-shirt from Sarah and Colin; massager (for my sciatica) from Rob and Eric, And the Answer Is... (Alex Trebek memoir) from Chico, all with cards

Thank you, thank you, thank you.  I am feeling the birthday love, and continue to count myself lucky and blessed every day/minute/second.  "Some kinda ecstasy got a hold on me" indeed!

NR:  Father of the Rain by Lily King (three decades of a volatile relationship between a charismatic, alcoholic father and the daughter who loves him.  hmmm, sound familiar?!?  And, although my Dad died in 1995, today would have been his 90th birthday.  Synchronicity strikes again.)

SONG:  Wondering Where the Lions Are by Bruce Cockburn

BOOK:  The Lions of Fifth Avenue by Fiona Davis

POEM:  Leo (July 23 - August 22) Horoscope by Genie Graveline

You're very ambitious, you love to lead
You're driven to greatness and want to succeed
You're strong and dependable, honest, too
but showing emotion is hard for you
You're usually eager to give advice
When it comes to your temper, try to think twice
You're a lover of life with a childish side
Yet a loner at times, with a need to hide
You're quite independent, and generous, too
You set your goals and you carry them through
You need reassurance from day to day
And diplomacy, sometimes, is not your forte'
Your sign is fire and your planet's the Sun
When you take control, you get the job done
If you find the right mate, you're the marrying kind
You're Leo, relax, take the time to unwind

QUOTE:  "Becoming isn't about arriving somewhere or achieving a certain aim.  It's forward motion, a means of evolving, a way to reach continuously toward a better self." ~ Michelle Obama