Vulnerability at Any Age

I believe that you have to walk through vulnerability to get to courage.” – Brene Brown

Let me take your temperature on something. Do you think that middle-aged and older means that you don’t have to be vulnerable any longer? Emotionally vulnerable, that is.

After all, we don’t have to go door to door with our resumes looking for our first job. And many who have life partners have had them for quite some time. We know our hobbies and interests and don’t have to try a bunch of new things to see what fits. We’ve even developed our conversational patter so that anything that comes close to a sensitive spot can be deflected without much effort.

Here’s the discovery I’ve come to after many years of searching for the things that make me feel vital. Continued vulnerability is one of them.

When I believe that vulnerability is off the table, I’m unlikely to:

Move out of my established lane

Upset the status quo of “my success”

Market or promote my writing

Try to find love

Brainstorm wild ideas

Try new things

Make new friends

Learn new technologies/applications

Express my feelings in relationships that have gone on so long that it risks the status quo

State my opinion about politics or religion

Here’s what I’m afraid of. If we retire from life, we leave so much potential and wisdom gained from 50 years or more unsaid. The things we’ve learned through trial and error that we are passionate about? We fail to bring them up.

When I was in my mid forties and wanted to have children, I found it incredibly difficult to say out loud. In one respect, it makes sense because such a precious dream is fragile in its early stages. But when I managed to broach the subject with a few of my dear friends, the incredible support they offered helped to fuel the vision.

So for me, I think I want to keep pushing myself towards openness. But I’d love to know what you think about vulnerability at any age.

(featured photo from Pexels)

Signs and Mystics

If you were waiting for a sign, this is it.” – unknown

I would never describe my father as a mystic. He was a Presbyterian pastor through and through. His theology and rituals were aligned with the institutions he served.

But my mom told me a funny story about when he decided to retire. She reports that he came home and said, “I’ve decided to retire because the clock stopped working and the stapler ran out.

 Isn’t it interesting how we interpret the signs in our life? Something happens and it resonates with what we’ve been thinking, feeling, or intuiting. And often, speaking for myself, that resonation can have great power to shift what previously seemed immoveable.

Three things I need to align with the signs in life: quiet, curiosity about new ideas and ventures, and awareness of the world around me. I’m quite sure I’ve never seen a sign when my head is down, the blinders are on, and I’m marching towards a deadline. Or maybe I have, and just failed to take it in. Maybe mystics are simply the people who open to possibility more often than not.

One of my favorite signs comes from when I was in my late 20’s. I was driving to work on a sunny Spring morning with the top down on my little VW Cabrio convertible. I’d just broken up with a boyfriend and was wondering what to do next. I took the exit for I-90 bridge over Lake Washington and as the traffic slowed, Mt. Rainier loomed over the view. I thought, “I should climb that.It launched my amateur climbing pursuits that took me throughout the Pacific Northwest as well as Russia, Nepal, Peru, and Mexico.

Every time I see Mt. Rainier, especially from the freeway, I’m reminded of the power of signs. I get a powerful goose to put the top down, whatever my proverbial top is at the moment, and look around.

Refining Our Wishes

Stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone ought to be.” – Elizabeth Gilbert

I’m going the long way to solve a problem in my house. This is not an excuse for a long post – in fact the post is only 354 words. Just an admission at the outset that I understand there are more expedient ways to address the issue.

Here it is: Mr. D is in a phase where he wants a lot of things. He sees it on tv and then wants to own it. He’s quite tenacious at five-years-old for insisting on what he wants. Right now we have a “wishlist” for these things. It works to a degree but it’s too easy to just add and add and add to it.

So I came up with the idea to build a box that he could write every wish into (to practice his writing). And for every wish, he has to come up with an accompanying thing he’s grateful for to put in the box too.

I also wanted to show him how we can build things. So I started with the leftover wood I had after fixing my kitchen flooring and measured out and cut some pieces of wood to build a box. Two boxes really – one for nine-year-old Miss O as well so she doesn’t miss out.

I triumphantly carried these things upstairs so that the kids could do the work of assembling and decorating these boxes. But then, on the kitchen counter, I roughly fit the pieces together to show off and saw my mistake.

The base is 2.5” wide – the pieces are 1” thick. Assembled that way, the “box” is only a half an inch. It’s not that wishes won’t fit in there. It’s that they’ll never come out. 🙂

So, I set out to show that it’s okay to wish for things, but then we have to work for them. And I ended up demonstrating that sometimes when we put together the pieces of our dreams, it doesn’t work out the way we intended. But that’s okay too – because we get to refine and repeat.

(featured photo from Pexels)

Let’s Stick Together

In the middle of every difficulty lies opportunity.” – Albert Einstein

Last Thursday, I had a moment of chaperone panic. I was in charge of Mr. D and another 5-year-old, a little girl named, Lydia. She was a delightful little girl who wanted to name our team, Rainbow Unicorn. So she was exactly on message for her age group.

After seeing all the sights, playing the games, eating lunch and picking out pumpkins, I asked Lydia if she wanted to do the corn maze. She had said several times she wanted to do it. As we approached the entrance of the maze, it was just the three of us: Mr. D, Lydia and me.

We walked fifteen feet to the first intersection and Lydia yelled, “Let’s split up!

I bit back my scream of “Noooooo!” and eked out a mostly calm, “Let’s stick together.

It strikes me that spreading chaos is a little fun. Not that little Lydia meant anything by it. She was just injecting a little five-year-old energy into the event.

Maybe my panic struck a little harder than usual since it’s election season in the US. I’m tired of the divisiveness that stokes up fear and the conflict entrepreneurs that capitalize on it. Let’s stick together.

The Risk Factor

Take risks: if you win, you will be happy; if you lose, you will be wise.” – unknown

A couple of weeks ago, on the third time I took five-year-old Mr. D to the skate park, we ran into a fifth grader at school who is the boy that Mr. D admires the most. And this boy is a terrific scooter rider. Is that the right way to put it? I’m unsure of my skate park lingo.

This boy rides a scooter and can drop in to the steepest of the bowls, propel himself out, kick the base of the scooter around so it does a 360 and then land it, bringing all the energy to an elegant stop. It is truly impressive.

I watched Mr. D observing this boy and wondered if it would make him reckless. Mr. D stood quietly for a while just taking it all in and then he started scootering back and forth on the flat concrete practicing popping a wheelie.

On the next visit, he found the most gradual of the slopes and started practicing going down one side and back up the other. This sport is not in my wheelhouse so I’m of no help to him. But he figured out how to bend his knees at the bottom of the slope.

He keeps making incremental risks and discoveries with each visit. I remarked on this to my friend, Eric, and he quipped, “Even five-year-olds have a built in risk meter.

To which I’d add – “that works.A certain amount of risk is necessary in order to learn. We have to be willing to look foolish, expose ourselves as newbies, and try something in order to quit it. I mention that last one because it’s often my barrier – I hate quitting things so I often won’t start something so that I can prevent having to quit.

So, I’ll speak for myself when I say that one way that life becomes rutted for me is when my risk meter breaks. Everything new will peg too high on the meter so then I try nothing. I’ll claim my past risks as badges that insulate me from ever having to try anything new again. And then I stop learning.

The funny thing about risk is that it’s a little contagious as well. The next time we went to the skate park my nine-year-old daughter, Miss O, came along. Seeing her brother try the gradual slopes encouraged her to do the same.

So here’s to being open to taking the right risks in life.

Learning the Essentials

The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives.” – Albert Einstein

The other day my friend Eric asked my son, five-year-old Mr. D, how he was liking Kindergarten.

Mr. D said he loved it [thank God] and he was learning a lot.

Eric followed up to ask what he was learning.

Mr. D replied, “I’m learning about recess, the lunchroom, art, and music.

I know you are laughing alongside me as you read this.

Learning his way around the school, including the specialist classes (art and music), has been a huge part of the first three weeks. I can’t imagine how many neurons are firing just to create a mind map of this new experience.

But as you’re smiling, consider this. Aren’t recess, the lunchroom, art and music still a big part of your days today?

(featured photo is Mr. D’s line heading in to class on the first day of school)

Inculcating Sustainability

“We have not inherited the earth from our parents; we have borrowed it from our children.” – Wendell Berry

A while ago we were driving and saw litter by the side of the freeway. Mr. D said, “It’s not healthy for the moon to eat.” It started a rousing discussion of not only what planet we live on but also Earth sustainability.

A lot of the climate change messaging these days doesn’t seem to resonate with kids. First, it’s rife with fear and disgust – like humans strangling the planet because they are short-sighted and selfish. I’m not sure that resonates with grown-ups but I know for certain kids can’t grok the cynicism.

Second, they have a sense that grown-ups don’t know what to do about it so it feels too big for kids to take on.

Third, they are just developing their altruism muscles so giving up things when other people are not lands as unfair.

Fortunately, Seattle has a great recycling and composting program. In the winter, we’ve spent a lot of time at the dump (the transfer station) watching how it works and playing with the educational models (see pictures here). Inculcating some sustainability habits to go hand-in-hand, seemed to me like a good next step.

After trial and error, some climate change for kids books, and thinking, here are some of the things I’ve come up with to teach my kids:

One in, one out: We participate in hand-me down chains for toys, books, and clothes. We try to give away at least one thing for everything we get. I can’t claim we do this every time – but we try.

Involve them: I reuse a lot of containers – like hand soap. They love participating in refilling our containers.

Full life cycle: We grow strawberries, try to grow peas and pumpkins, visit pumpkin farms, and give away our plum crop to people who are food insecure. Even though we live in a city and are disconnected from where our food comes from, I try to connect them to the bounty of the Earth when possible.

Teach them skills: Things break and need maintenance and there are a lot of skills to repair and reuse things instead of just discarding them. I’m not much of a seamstress but I do know my way around drills, saws, caulk, and glue. Seeing that we can not only fix things but also make them better.

Selling our stuff and buying second hand: We have a great second hand kids shop in our neighborhood that makes it possible to sell what we don’t give away – and buy at the same store.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to oversell what we are doing. They are small efforts and I’m far from consistent and perfect on these things. But these things are doable and sustainable for us. They counterbalance the messages of judgment and fear that leave us feeling helpless. If nothing else, it convinces my kids that they can do something to help. And believing that might just make a difference.

Ring a Bell

There is within each one of us a potential for goodness beyond our imagining; for giving which seeks no reward; for listening without judgment; for loving unconditionally.” – Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

I’ve hung a yak bell on the inside handle of my back door for decades. I bought the bell in Nepal when I trekked to Everest base camp so I find it a pleasing sound for many reasons. It’s been useful so that my dogs can signal when they want to go out. Neither Cooper nor Biscuit before him were big barkers so it was pretty easy to train them to ring the bell when they want to go outside.

It’s a lot harder to train them to just do it when they NEED to go out instead of just want to go out. <Squirrel> But hey, I won’t complain about a system that works most of the time for canine to human communication.

Lately, I’ve been noticing that Cooper rings the bell for the cat. That is, if he sees her sitting outside the door wanting to come in, he’ll ring it. Or, if she’s sitting next to him and wants to go out, he’ll ring the bell. When I open the door, he sits back down and doesn’t go outside as if to say, “I’m just doing this for my friend, the cat. Who could do it for herself but doesn’t want to appear trainable.”

Who says chivalry is dead?

Riding the Rhythm Into the Comfort Zone

Each one must learn the highest wisdom. It cannot be taught in words.” – Smowhala Wanapum

We’ve just returned from two week vacation on the beach. It was an incredible privilege to be able to take that time. It was born of a feeling that Mr. D needed a break between his 52-weeks-a-year preschool and starting Kindergarten. But it turned out to be something we all needed.

We had lots of friends join us. My friend, Eric, was with us a good deal of the two weeks. Also, my oldest friend, Katie, my meditation teacher, Deirdre, my mom, and one of Miss O’s friends came with her mom for part of the time.

But we also spent a number of days just the three of us. For anyone not in this phase of life with young children, it’s a tricky thing to present children with a whole lot of unstructured time. Ah, who am I kidding? It seems to be problematic for most every age.

For us, it started out with some rough moments. Mr. D lost it a few days in a row. The things that set it off were so innocuous. Like the time he didn’t want Miss O and her friend to go out in the dinghy after dinner even though he was invited and included. It had to be something else bugging him.

And then we found the rhythm. Activity, break, activity, food, activity, break, food, activity, bed. For example, wake up, walk on the beach, and then take a break; go swimming and then break for lunch; then pickleball; take a break; dinner and paddleboarding, then have some downtime watching shows and go to bed.

Here’s the lesson I derived for myself – when life feels new or unsettling, find the rhythm. Often the rhythm gets us through even when we are outside of our comfort zone.

It’s like every new hike or mountain I’ve undertaken. I feel the anxiety of not knowing where I’m going. And then I shoulder my pack and start walking. Soon enough, I will find or experience the answers. I just need to rely on the rhythm of my pace until I get there.

The Lottery of Life

Some people are born on third base and go through life thinking they hit a triple.” – Barry Switzer

My friend, Eric (from the recent On The Bus podcast), and I recently made a lottery ticket pact. Neither of us usually buys lottery tickets. But we saw a condo for sale at the place we like to go to on Whidbey Island. We can’t afford it, so we decided to buy a PowerBall ticket and if we won, we’d buy it.

I know, a silly idea all around. But the funny thing was that once we’d bought the ticket, I was beset by the idea that I didn’t want to win the lottery because I wanted to earn what I have in life.

Following this stream of consciousness made me realize how many “lotteries” I’ve already won in life.

Being raised by an incredibly smart mom who told me I could be whatever I wanted as long as I was willing to put in the effort.

Having a loving dad that did the work to follow the example of Jesus to love and accept everyone.

Living at a time when women can get credit, buy houses, and use IVF to have children.

Benefitting from mentors who were willing to help me discern what is important, how to navigate adversity, and retain integrity.

Having technical skills at a time when personal computers, the Internet, and mobile technology emerged.

Being blessed with kids that were healthy when they were born and being able to afford good health care for me and my children to help keep us well.

Living in the Pacific Northwest where there are mountains to climb, beaches to comb, and summer weather so nice that most people just want to stay near home. At least for these five months.

Having incredible friends who have walked alongside me for ups, downs, and adventures.

And the list goes on and on. It makes me realize how much my independence and sense of earning is a tenuous construct. It reminds me to balance my dreams with not just what I want and need, but what I can give in thanks.

Or, to put it briefly in a phrase I learned from Dr. Gerald Stein: Tikkun Olam – repair the world.