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On Being Older

October 28, 2023 by CoachBarbie

Ghost Ranch, Abiquiu, New Mexico

On October 3, I switched my phone to airplane mode and stowed my books, podcasts, and video games. Armed with a journal and pen, I gave myself permission to fully experience seven days at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico, where I attended a Rite of Passage Retreat entitled, “Choosing Conscious Elderhood.”

At 69, I finally felt ready to accept “being older,” and I longed for a deep dive into discovering what that means. During the retreat, I explored inner and outer landscapes. In circles with like-minded participants, I reviewed the details of my life, learning about my gifts, reinterpreting events, and releasing old stories that had outlived their usefulness. I focused on The Harvest, this time of life where I am able to gather the fruits of my experience and share them freely with others. In deep gratitude for all of my teachers, friends, and companions who taught and guided me throughout my life, I discovered my heart’s desire to be of service.

On day 5, each of the 7 attendees spent 11 hours alone in the wilderness, connecting with nature and the Great Mystery. In my memory, it seems I spent the entire day communing with Spirit, walking, talking, writing, playing, and laughing. Maybe that was a taste of Eternity. I lost all sense of time passing, and before I realized it, the rising sun had become the setting sun, and it was time to find my way back to my room.

In that place of solitude, I sensed that everything is in Divine Order, that all is interconnected, and that there is a Unifying Force at work throughout the Universe. I felt VERY small, less than a grain of sand in a remote desert on a tiny planet in a vast solar system that sits inconspicuously among millions of similarly vast solar systems comprising a single galaxy among trillions of galaxies in an ever-expanding Universe.

Who am I? A single life, connected to All That Is. My heart swelled with gratitude, love, and a desire to participate in this incomprehensible Miracle right here on this planet for as long as I live. Then I’ll happily move on to the next great adventure because I am Energy, and Energy cannot be destroyed. It simply transforms again and again and again. Deep in the fiber of my being, I felt the truth of it, the power of it, the love of it. And I still do.

So, don’t be surprised if I miss your call, if I’m slow to answer an email or return a text. Don’t worry; you can still trust that I will tend to the routines of human life. I will also be shifting my priorities. I intend to continue to grow and serve for the rest of my life. I want these final decades to be filled with connection and courage. I want each day to begin with an open heart and an intention to allow love to guide my steps.

I am forever changed by this experience. I am calmer, more peaceful, braver, and happier. My wistful look and hint of a smile are because I have glimpsed the most delicious secret; I believe I have had a tiny peek at the surprises to come, and they are all rooted in love.

And so my Elder Journey begins. (There’s so much more to come!)

For information about future Elderhood retreats, see: https://www.centerforconsciouseldering.com/events/

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Vacation Eyes

August 28, 2022 by CoachBarbie

Mississippi River near Hannibal, Missouri

Late yesterday afternoon, we returned from a two-week road trip to Nebraska for my 50th high school reunion. Traveling with a dog and a cat, we stayed at six different places. All I have to say about that is I TOTALLY understand why it is called LUGgage.

Of course, it’s good to be home. All the contents of the many bags, boxes, and crates have been put away. I’m feeling grounded and grateful, especially in the knowledge of where my morning coffee will be when I need it.

One of the most exhausting things about travel is the constant need to adjust to new places, surroundings, and ways of executing everyday tasks. There are more question marks and exclamation points than periods: Where is the dog’s leash? Here it is! … Where do you want the cat’s litter box? Under the bathroom sink! … How does the bed feel? Wonderful! … Is there a grocery store close by? Yes! … Is there coffee for that coffee maker? It’s all Decaf! What’s wrong with these people?!?!

After a couple of weeks like that, the siren call to embrace routine and sameness is enticing. It’s so tempting to turn off my churning brain and slip ever so silently into the warm bath of mindless habit.

I was up early and went straight to the cottage for my usual meditation, prayer, and writing time. Back to the house, I fixed breakfast and almost pulled out my tablet to catch up on the news, something I hadn’t done in two weeks.

Then I stopped. Something was missing.

Where was the heightened state of curiosity and anticipation? Where was that sense of ALIVENESS? Where were my Vacation Eyes? Where were those eyes that looked closely at everything, drinking it all in with pleasure and satisfaction? Where was my mindfulness? Oh, there it is, soaking in a hot tub of habit.

I took my steel cut oats and fresh fruit—oh, how I’ve missed those!—outdoors, leaving my phone and tablet behind. I sat there, looking, really looking at everything. I used my vacation eyes to spot a dozen different kinds of birds and my vacation ears to hear the cry of a hunting hawk. I heard the cicadas and the songbirds. I heard the squirrels and the distant traffic. The sky was blue, and I saw fog clinging to the treetops, slowly dissolving right before my eyes as the sun rose. The air smelled fresh, the breeze was cool, and the breakfast was the best I’ve had in two weeks

I looked at my familiar surroundings with the vacation eyes I used to gaze at the Mississippi River from the cabin deck in Hannibal, Missouri. I felt the same awe in realizing I was seeing THIS scene for the first time. Nothing stays the same; everything changes. Maybe it’s the same tree, but there are yellow leaves where green leaves hung two weeks ago. And the blue jay squawking now will give way to the chickadee chirping in a few seconds.

Familiarity and routine are comfortable and can keep life flowing efficiently. Choosing how and when to use them is the key. After flexing my mindfulness muscles for two weeks, I want to make sure they get a good workout every single day. So, here’s to the eye opening gifts of travel and the warm embrace of home.

Nebraska Sky near Neligh, Nebraska

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What’s wrong with me?

July 11, 2021 by CoachBarbie

Many, many years ago, early in my pregnancy, I confided to my doctor, “There’s something seriously wrong with me.”

Two years earlier I had quit my job and started my own word processing business. It was growing, and I was devoting a lot of time and energy to its success.

My doctor regarded me with concern and asked me to explain. I blurted out, “I’ve lost my edge! My motivation is gone. I no longer care whether I work long hours or not. What’s wrong with me? I’m just soooo laid back!“

He chuckled quietly and said, “It’s the pregnancy. Your body is flooded with progesterone, the feel-good hormone. No need to worry. You’ll be back to your Type A personality after the baby is born.” And for better or worse, he was right.

Over these past several months, my journal has been filled with similar ruminations. I’ve been wondering what happened to my drive, my stress, my productive angst. A couple weeks ago when I discovered someone had scratched my beautiful Mustang convertible in the parking lot, I thought, “Poor car. Next time I’ll park you farther away from the entrance where there aren’t so many cars.” That was it. No ranting. No rage. No swearing. Later, worried about my calm demeanor, I diagnosed myself as “apathetic. I just didn’t care any more.” I began writing in my journal: “What’s wrong with me?!?”

This morning I remembered my conversation with my OB/GYN. At nearly 67 years old, I know pregnancy is not an option.

Then it hit me: Oh! This is what peace feels like! After 18 months of daily practicing mindfulness meditation, my brain has slowly changed the way it processes events. I have gained an ability to RESPOND to circumstances, rather than simply reacting. Reacting comes from the ego and is all about protection and self-interest. Responding is a higher brain function, aligned with one’s values, integrity, kindness, and interconnectedness with others. In that moment with the car, I was able to bypass the angst and anger and go instantly to where I would have ended up eventually anyway: acceptance of what happened and taking responsibility to park differently in the future.

Instead of being stricken with apathy, I had chosen the peaceful waters of equanimity. It is a state I’ve been seeking for many months and years. I’ve read about it; I’ve thought about it; I’ve prayed about it. My meditation practice has always had a goal of increased equanimity.

Today I’m in awe and a bit amused, too. I achieved what I said I wanted, and then I didn’t recognize it. I instantly thought there was something wrong with me. What an irony!

As I write this, I know equanimity is an elusive state. My ego has had lots of experience reacting to what happens. Mindful awareness is relatively new. I will continue my meditation practice with gratitude and renewed hope.

Today I’m grateful to embrace a more peaceful state of mind, especially now that I realized there’s nothing wrong with me!

If you’d like to explore mindful meditation, I highly recommend the 10% Happier app. It has guided meditations, short educational courses, talks, and sleep meditations that really work! You can check them out here: https://www.tenpercent.com/ or email me, and I’ll send you a free 30-Day Guest pass (no credit card needed to sign up!) And for the record, I’m pretty sure I’m at least 15% happier since I’ve started meditating regularly.

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You’ll Cut Your Fingers Off!!!

November 9, 2020 by CoachBarbie

Yesterday I bought a table saw. I resisted this purchase for over a decade. While building the cottage, I used circular and radial saws. I have also used tile and jig saws, but when my son told me I needed a table saw to do the rip cuts on my vinyl plank flooring project, I balked. I was confident I could manage with a jig saw. And I did, for the few rip cuts required in the dining room and kitchen. But the hallway presented a challenge. Twenty-four, four-foot rip cuts. I did the first one with my jig saw and realized it was impossible to get the cuts straight and smooth.

Headed to Lowe’s, I did my best to quiet the ominous voice: “You’ll cut your fingers off!” Remember the movie, A Christmas Story? Remember the constant warnings Ralphie received? “You’ll shoot your eye out!!” That was pretty much what was going on in my head.

As I was unpacking the 10″ Craftsman table saw, I began to hear my father’s voice, “Don’t Touch! Don’t Touch!” As I turned the handle to raise the saw blade, my breathing got shallow, and my heart started to race. Gut wrenching fear. “Don’t Touch! Don’t Touch!”

I donned work gloves, sure that the blade would be so sharp it would cut off my fingers before I even knew what happened. Mind you, the saw was not plugged in. In fact, the cord was still encased in plastic and bound with a twist tie. I was not taking any chances that it might plug itself in, turn itself on, and come after my fingers!

The fear was so intense and so irrational that it astounded me. There was a part of me that was unpacking and assembling a much-needed power tool. There was another part–I’d say she was about four years old–that was reacting to her father’s admonitions to stay clear of HIS table saw. I know I was really young because in my mind, I could see a table saw high above me. I would need a step-stool to reach it. It seemed so big. The reality of MY saw, sitting there in front of me, was miniature and toy-like, by comparison.

There was a time when I would have said to myself, “Quit being so silly!” But I know better now. I am well acquainted with that fearful part of myself. She needs reassurance and understanding. She needs to feel protected and safe. I sat with her for a bit, reassuring her, calming her, and loving her. “I know Daddy said not to touch. We were young then. It was good for him to make us afraid. But we are grown up now. We can do this. We will be VERY careful. We will read the directions and follow the safety precautions. It’s okay. We don’t need Daddy to protect us. We know how to protect ourselves.”

So I did it. I ripped my first four-foot piece of vinyl plank flooring. Smooth and straight. Wow! So easy! Today I can’t wait for my capable, carpenter son to give me a thorough Safety Talk (via video chat from Montana) before I cut and lay the rest of the pieces.

I wonder just how many of my irrational fears were perfectly rational at one point in my life and then never got updated, much like an old software program looping in the background regulating a dial-up modem while I’m busy with a high-speed internet connection.

Updating internal software requires compassion and patience, not harsh disdain. Irrational? Now, yes. But not always. Honoring the original intention of the fear goes a long way toward releasing its hold. I’ll end with words I couldn’t image saying just a couple of days ago: “I own a table saw, and I know how to use it!”

This is me with my new saw … being as safe as my inner child needs me to be.

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