Lately, I've been working hard and vacationing some. Still, I am aware that as with many of you, I need a better balanced daily life. I eat fairly well, exercise, faithfully (well pretty faithfully) attend my yoga and Pilates classes, have a great masseuse and sporadically meditate and work out with a trainer. So what's wrong with this picture?
When I was younger I had the opportunity to spend time in quiet spiritual retreats spanning a variety of eastern and western leanings. I have an insatiable travel gene and at times in my life I would have said "have suitcase packed, will travel." But, new needs are emerging. Is my priority to get on a plane to a distant land not yet visited or would a spa or even a retreat - perhaps a Zen retreat for 10 days of silence - be preferable? As I sage, these competing desires continue to call. Long ago I accepted that my own character was fairly intense. Perhaps it's genetic, environmental, familial, who knows? I've reached the s(t)age where I am less interested in explanations than living well within my own skin.
So, I invite you to journey with me as I sort out my variation of the same issues so many FiftyandFurthermores have. Yes, I loved my recent visit to Argentina and Buenos Aires, and there are so many places to see, but perhaps staying still watching the water from my own home might serve me better? Whatever path one takes at any given time is a prelude to next steps. Join me as I take mine, one slow step at a time.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Every Year is a Gift
My birthday was August 2nd. Usually I love birthdays and enjoy marking them for others, as well as myself. This one, though, seemed neither here nor there. 67 wasn't a biggie, on the way to 70, and how did I get here anyway? I didn't sleep well several nights prior to the big day. Dreams, thoughts and concerns wafted through my active unconscious, letting me know I was not at ease. Although I am excited by life-affirming possibilities, my very human worries surfaced. Did I need to revisit my will? Was my family OK? Would my own health checkups return good reports? Was I doing enough for others? Too much? Would the new book that I'm writing continue to flow? My husband needs a new car. Should I bug him to buy the hybrid that I thought wise for both us and for the environment? Or should I encourage him to purchase the gas guzzler that I knew he wanted? Who would win the election?
Large and small concerns ebbed and flowed into one another - all, I'm sure, part of an underlying scream that emerged as death's door opened just that much wider. The big day came and unexpected calls, emails, cards and yes, gifts arrived. Although still in my "this is not a big deal birthday mode," I appreciated acknowledgments, well wishes and the friendship and love that came my way. But, deep down, I wasn't my usual celebratory self. Until
My husband and I went out for the quiet dinner we had planned. We happen to have a wine locker at several restaurants including The Capital Grill in Jacksonville. Last week they called and invited us to have dinner there on my birthday. That's not uncommon for a restaurant to do when one is a frequent patron. I thought nothing of it. NOTHING! It seemed as good as anything we might do except maybe staying home relaxing on our porch and enjoying the view.
Then they didn't have our usual promised table. I shrugged. So what? And as I was gently guided into a lovely special room, brain dead and totally without a clue, Happy Birthday wishes engulfed me sung by many of my Florida friends. I, who am rarely speechless, was. Tears came. This was the first surprise party of my life. I looked questioningly at my husband still implying "but this particular birthday is no big deal." Lovingly he looked at me. "Hon, henceforth, every day is a celebration. Every day we look in the mirror and see ourselves is special and every year is a gift."
Amen.
Large and small concerns ebbed and flowed into one another - all, I'm sure, part of an underlying scream that emerged as death's door opened just that much wider. The big day came and unexpected calls, emails, cards and yes, gifts arrived. Although still in my "this is not a big deal birthday mode," I appreciated acknowledgments, well wishes and the friendship and love that came my way. But, deep down, I wasn't my usual celebratory self. Until
My husband and I went out for the quiet dinner we had planned. We happen to have a wine locker at several restaurants including The Capital Grill in Jacksonville. Last week they called and invited us to have dinner there on my birthday. That's not uncommon for a restaurant to do when one is a frequent patron. I thought nothing of it. NOTHING! It seemed as good as anything we might do except maybe staying home relaxing on our porch and enjoying the view.
Then they didn't have our usual promised table. I shrugged. So what? And as I was gently guided into a lovely special room, brain dead and totally without a clue, Happy Birthday wishes engulfed me sung by many of my Florida friends. I, who am rarely speechless, was. Tears came. This was the first surprise party of my life. I looked questioningly at my husband still implying "but this particular birthday is no big deal." Lovingly he looked at me. "Hon, henceforth, every day is a celebration. Every day we look in the mirror and see ourselves is special and every year is a gift."
Amen.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Pets Can Save Lives for FiftyAndFurthermores
Yesterday, Marjorie, who is 68 and one of my assistants, came to work sharing a remarkable story. She lives in the country surrounded by land and fresh air. However, she is also isolated from close neighbors. Three years ago she had taken in a stray cat. She named him Morris and they were good companions. Marjorie lives alone near her children and grandchildren and likes where she lives. She is a healthy, active and savvy lady who knows how to take care of herself. Half asleep she noticed that Morris seemed restless. Thinking nothing of it, she turned over to go to sleep. Morris jumped on her bed. Surprised and sensing something amiss she got up. Everything seemed normal and quiet. Back to bed she went. Again, Morris seemed unsettled. Again she got up. She heard nothing but looked out the window anyway and thought she saw a shadow moving, but again thought nothing of it. Morris paced again. Suddenly she heard a window crash. Someone was trying to break in. She screamed, called her daughter who lives nearby and dialed the police. The intruder ran and Marjorie, except for shaking from a bad scare and an extra dose of vulnerability was fine. The would-be intruder wasn't caught and she came to work having escaped a close call. Morris had saved her.
Now, we are all relatively familiar with the fact that dogs are known to protect their loved owners. But cats are generally considered to be less protective. Evidently cats too have territorial instincts. At least Morris does. We talked about the current literature that confirms that pets help keep older people alive. They offer companionship and structure as their needs must be met. Larger dogs also require walking which helps provide exercise to their owners. But a cat that saves lives, that is a bit unusual. I found myself wondering if I should make stronger recommendations to my FiftyAndFurthermore clients who live alone to become pet owners.
As my now grown children have left home, so have our pets, all passing from old age. My kids have wanted me to have new ones. My grown children worry about me and are well-aware of the benefits of pets for seniors. Because I travel as much as I do, I have chosen to remain animal-free. But perhaps this is not the best decision after all?
As our society becomes more isolated, pets have gained prominence. I do miss our last two residents dearly (Mr. Lucy, our final cat, and Bibi, our dog). But perhaps it's more than simply companionship and I'm in a bit of denial? What if it's more important to realize that having a smart four legged companion really could save my life?
Now, we are all relatively familiar with the fact that dogs are known to protect their loved owners. But cats are generally considered to be less protective. Evidently cats too have territorial instincts. At least Morris does. We talked about the current literature that confirms that pets help keep older people alive. They offer companionship and structure as their needs must be met. Larger dogs also require walking which helps provide exercise to their owners. But a cat that saves lives, that is a bit unusual. I found myself wondering if I should make stronger recommendations to my FiftyAndFurthermore clients who live alone to become pet owners.
As my now grown children have left home, so have our pets, all passing from old age. My kids have wanted me to have new ones. My grown children worry about me and are well-aware of the benefits of pets for seniors. Because I travel as much as I do, I have chosen to remain animal-free. But perhaps this is not the best decision after all?
As our society becomes more isolated, pets have gained prominence. I do miss our last two residents dearly (Mr. Lucy, our final cat, and Bibi, our dog). But perhaps it's more than simply companionship and I'm in a bit of denial? What if it's more important to realize that having a smart four legged companion really could save my life?
Monday, August 25, 2008
The John Edwards Affair - A Couples Issue
Extra marital affairs in American society are far more common than any of us like to admit. Some surveys have found that as many as 40% of married women and 60% of married men engage in extramarital affairs. The fact that John Edwards had an affair is not of particular interest to me. As a psychologist, I live in a world of secrets. And yes, even people's outright lies. Lack of authenticity is often fodder for an individual's pain. Helping couples mend or dissolve damaged marriages is much of what I do on a daily basis. Thus, for me, the most cogent issue is not what the affair says about this public man, but what it says about this public couple. The Edwards jointly chose to have John run for America's highest office. In this day and age of political paparazzi, the fact that neither of them considered that information about their relationship and their affair would become public knowledge well, that's representative of the couple's dynamics.
The Edwards have endured a very public ordeal surrounding the death of their son and Elizabeth's battle with incurable cancer. I believe that, in many ways, their 31-year marriage is based on old fashioned Southern values. These marriages are stereotypically filled with denial and the ability to look the other way when confronted with unwelcome facts. Often these marriages also take pride in having super human strength in the face of adversity. Living with no matter what can be an attempt to gain admiration. It can also be a defense against standing still and experiencing pain on a deeper level. In this case, given their endless public pursuit of "carrying on," I am left wondering if their marriage might be primarily reflect the latter.
I neither condone nor condemn the affair. However, I do make a strong argument for couples and families in trouble seeking therapy. I am not privy to whether or not the Edwards ever sought professional help. However, in my view, it would be wise for any family who has been through the death of a child to seek counseling. I also believe that the structure of almost all long term marriages is subject to change and, at various points, marriages need to be renegotiated. Clearly, as loving a couple as the Edwards may be, they are both responsible and have colluded, not necessarily in the affair, but in their willingness to jointly open their lives to the public scrutiny while at the same time knowingly acting in ways that undermine their credibility.
I honor Elizabeth Edwards' request that helicopters stop flying over their home. However, one cannot intentionally seek public office without anticipating that dirty linen will emerge. From a psychologist's perspective, I wonder if their mutual pain was so deep that the only way they could confront it was to risk a public viewing. By subconsciously inviting the public into their most private life, they must confront dark corners in their own lives as well as in their marriage, although one has to wonder what would possess a couple to do so in the harsh glare of the public eye?
I believe that in order to have an intimate, growing marriage, most couples have to confront unwanted issues at some point in their relationship. In that way the Edwards are no exception only their issues are more obvious than many.
The Edwards have endured a very public ordeal surrounding the death of their son and Elizabeth's battle with incurable cancer. I believe that, in many ways, their 31-year marriage is based on old fashioned Southern values. These marriages are stereotypically filled with denial and the ability to look the other way when confronted with unwelcome facts. Often these marriages also take pride in having super human strength in the face of adversity. Living with no matter what can be an attempt to gain admiration. It can also be a defense against standing still and experiencing pain on a deeper level. In this case, given their endless public pursuit of "carrying on," I am left wondering if their marriage might be primarily reflect the latter.
I neither condone nor condemn the affair. However, I do make a strong argument for couples and families in trouble seeking therapy. I am not privy to whether or not the Edwards ever sought professional help. However, in my view, it would be wise for any family who has been through the death of a child to seek counseling. I also believe that the structure of almost all long term marriages is subject to change and, at various points, marriages need to be renegotiated. Clearly, as loving a couple as the Edwards may be, they are both responsible and have colluded, not necessarily in the affair, but in their willingness to jointly open their lives to the public scrutiny while at the same time knowingly acting in ways that undermine their credibility.
I honor Elizabeth Edwards' request that helicopters stop flying over their home. However, one cannot intentionally seek public office without anticipating that dirty linen will emerge. From a psychologist's perspective, I wonder if their mutual pain was so deep that the only way they could confront it was to risk a public viewing. By subconsciously inviting the public into their most private life, they must confront dark corners in their own lives as well as in their marriage, although one has to wonder what would possess a couple to do so in the harsh glare of the public eye?
I believe that in order to have an intimate, growing marriage, most couples have to confront unwanted issues at some point in their relationship. In that way the Edwards are no exception only their issues are more obvious than many.
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