Okay, I was semi-young and in love. It made no difference at that point that I was also a semi-women’s libber, and had been on my own for more than a couple years (i.e., I HAD DREAMS OF MY OWN!).

Looking back, I can say with some authority that I did as my mother and her mother before would have done – and did, more often than not. But that did not make it right for their time nor our own. It didn’t make it right for any time, to be perfectly honest.

It was simply what had always been . . since the beginning of time . . a tradition.

But times change, and we grow.

Let Me Strongly Suggest

So, let me pass along some hard won insight. If you have adult or nearly adult children and haven’t done this yet, make it a point to tell your daughters and sons. Actually, make it a point to tell yourself as well:

> Do not do what I did. Never sacrifice your dreams for another. You will end up resenting either the sacrifice or the person to whom you sacrificed – or both. In any case, you won’t live happily ever after by putting yourself and your dreams last; and

> Dream sacrifice is not a sign of love. Nor is it a show of respect – certainly not self respect. The fact is, it shows only how little value you place on yourself and your own dreams; and

> Run as fast as you can from anyone who asks you – or even worse, expects you – to give up your dreams in favor of theirs. That isn’t love. It’s selfishness; and

> On all counts, just don’t do it.

> You are so much more than that! Both you and your dreams deserve better.

There. Done. Said it. Now let’s all promise to believe it, okay?!

And, before you start shaking your head and saying things like, “But I love him/her. I’m willing to put my dreams aside for his/hers. That’s what love does.” Let me say, “NO NO NO NO NO that is not what love does . . at least that that is not what REAL love does unless that person you love so much is just as willing to set their dreams aside and put yours first.”

And if that’s the case, enjoy your love-fest. And have fun taking turns with the dreams.

But that’s not how it usually works. It’s a competitive world. Someone almost always comes out on top – in the living of dreams as well as the living of life.

We women are typically the ones who do the sacrificing. And we do it so very well that is seems natural.

We do it for the one we love. Ahhh, sweet sweet love.

We do it for our children – whatever their ages. They’re our children. Maybe we can live through their dreams.

We do it for our aging parents. After all, they gave up their dreams for us, right?

We do it for our friends.What are friends for?

We may even do it for a stranger on the street if they touch our heart in that way everyone seems to know how to do. What’s  your own dream worth when some else needs you, right?

Umhm, sure. Just keep believing that.

Then again, think about it.

Your Dreams Matter MORE

I’m not saying other people’s dreams don’t matter. I’m saying they don’t matter any more than yours. I’m saying you benefit no one by putting yourself and your own dreams last.

I’m saying your dreams deserve equal time. In fact, they deserve more than equal time when it comes to your life and your world and your aging.

I’m saying your aging needs your dreams as much as your dreams need to be nurtured and recognized as yours.

I’ve truly come to believe that the most miserable among us – particularly among the old – are the ones who gave up their dreams along the way, and forgot where they’d put them.

Like anything else: Sacrifice a dream long enough, and you eventually risk forgetting it ever existed. Once you’ve forgotten you had a dream, it doesn’t matter how much you’re willing to sacrifice.

In my book of life: It isn’t old age that makes us unhappy. It’s having no dreams left to guide us and keep us company . . and challenge us as we grow old. That, my friend, is the true cause of unhappy aging.

You don’t want to go there.

I certainly don’t want to go there!

And, though I can’t speak for you, I can say that I for one am committed to NOT going there!

My Challenge To Me – and to You

I am committed to seeing how many of my dreams I can rescue from all the stuff in my past (i.e., That old-time-sacrificial-”I don’t really need my dreams because yours are so much more important than mine”-crap – on all counts), because no one else’s dreams are more important than mine!

And I am further committed to gathering up all of those wayward dreams of mine, and challenging myself to step out of my head games and let those dreams and my heart guide my aging.

BIG STUFF!

Certainly for me anyway.

How about you? Do you want to join me in the challenge? My dreams would love the company.

No dream sacrificing allowed, of course.

What fun!

And remember always: No one’s dreams are more important or worthy of being realized than your own! No one’s.

.    .    .    .    .

Can you promise to remember that? (No one’s)

Will you take the commitment with me?

Can you imagine doing it, even if you can’t commit to it? (Small steps are most wonderful!)

Please tell me what you think – what your heart and your dreams think.

Keep growing my friend,

Gail

©2009 Celebrate Aging. All Rights Reserved.

Some day I will be old.
And a voice that once was my own
Will speak of things I do not yet know.
Will my words fix all that is broken in this world that is my home?
Or will they go underground where they can barely change their own minds?
Will my elder truth ride gently, or roughshod on those who call my name?
I guess time will tell.

Some day I will be old.
And the meaning of all that I am will encircle me.
And we’ll spin, ever more quickly,
Until all that has ever been in my life takes new shape
And my story spills from from every corner of the rounded vessel
That is my becoming.
Yet, will any who come after bend to hear the song my aging soul would sing?
I guess time will tell.

Some day I will be old.
Will I still be looking forward to what lies ahead,
Eagerly awaiting the rest of this life I’ve created in my own image?
Or will my heart and mind be stuck in reverse,
Reaching only for what I already know to have been in the time of my grasping?
When? How long ago?
I guess time will tell.

Some day I will be old.
Will it be a good day,
A day of finishing what once was started,
And letting go to make room for what comes next?
Or will it be a day of sadness,
Pushing back the unknowns when all that I might know is unknown?
I guess time will tell.

Some day I will be OLD.
I guess time will tell.

.   .   .   .   .

What do you imagine of the time you turn old? What will your time tell? Please, share your thoughts, stories – and poems – here. I love hearing from you.

Keep growing my friend,

Gail

©2009 Celebrate Aging. All Rights Reserved.

After all, when we’re halfway, the glass is still half full by my measure.

Or, is that half empty?

In any case, we still have half. And seeing as the vast majority of us have 40-odd years to go after reaching that halfway measure, why do we waste so much time fighting against what it means to us?!

Then again, that’s not really the point, is it? It isn’t that solitary mid-point in time that gets people so tense.

It’s something about the second half:

> What the second half means to people;

> What our expectations are for what comes after the midpoint;

> How we see ourselves and those around us differently after the half;

> What we feel we’ve lost – and will continue to lose – in the passing of time; and

> Why, when all is said and done, any of this matters at all – if it matters at all.

And the simple fact that we live in a society that does everything in its power to negate, eviscerate, or otherwise overlook the gifts of life’s second half doesn’t help the situation. What’s THAT really all about anyway!

What Is It About Second Halves?

Then again, why do we assess the second half of our lives so differently from the second half of everything else?

(Okay, granted my life is far more personal to me than yours or anyone else’s. And what comes after the halfway mark in MY life is going to have more meaning to me, simply because it IS my life and I’m living it. It’s no different for any of us.)

But really, let’s think about this for a moment:

How many times, when you were reading a really good novel or mystery, have you jumped to the end – the good part – to find out what happened? After all, the middle of so many books is just boring chase scenes, love making, and filler, right?

And how often have you gone to a movie, and stuck it out through all the intricate under-weaving of plot and story, because you really just had to see the ending? How many times have you wanted to walk out of the theater, but didn’t, because “the good stuff” (what brought you to the theater in the first place) could be counted on to appear in the second half?

And what of music? How often have you gone to hear a favorite singer in concert just to hear that one song . . the one they wouldn’t play till they’d worked their way through all the new stuff . . the one that meant everything . . the one you could count on to be played somewhere about midway through the second half?

Are you seeing a pattern here?

I hope so.

Why is it, do you think, that we can barely wait for the second half of the things we like – the things we look forward to (like books and movies and favorite recordings), but look the other way when it’s our own second half under consideration?

What is it about the second half of those things we can’t wait for that makes them so different from our own second halves?

Why do we cherish youth and the stories of our youth, but push aging off to the side . . as if we hope it would quietly move on and leave us as we are? (We know, of course, it isn’t going to do that. But does that set us up for disappointment, or challenge?)

Is there nothing in that half full glass that bids us go deeper?

Is there no thrill left after the half that suggests the best part may still lie ahead?

The Best Part Always Comes After The Half!

Well, as usual, I have some thoughts on the matter. (Just cover your eyes and ears if you’d rather not be touched by them.)

The way I see it, we get to choose how we’re going to respond to everything that comes after the half – just as we got to choose how we wanted to respond in our own unique ways to everything that came before. Nothing’s changed here. We’re still in charge – of ourselves.

If you want to sit in your rocker all day, with the shades pulled down and the television blaring while you complain to everyone you see of how you’ve been marginalized by the rest of society, go for it. It’s your choice.

You can rot in front of the tube just as easily when you’re 20 as when you’re 68. It has nothing to do with how old you are. It’s all about choice and the attitude you bring to the experience.

Personally, I’d choose differently. But that’s me.

If you want to spend the entire second half of your life looking back to how beautiful and popular you were in high school, and how you gave everything of yourself to your husband/wife and children . . and now to your grandchildren – though it never was and never will be appreciated in the ways you feel you deserve, go for it. It’s your choice.

You keep looking to others to justify your existence, and blaming them when they don’t. But doesn’t that get just a bit tiresome? Wouldn’t it be far more interesting to stop worrying so much about justifying and trying always to fit some image you believe others have of you, and start looking around for some new ways to live the second half you’ve been given?

Personally, I’d choose the second option. But that’s me.

You see, you can live the second half of your life as miserably as you want. You can resent the life you’re living. You can become a bitter, crusty old fart biddy person, and miss out on all the good parts entirely. In fact, you can get so used to growing old looking for the bad that you don’t even notice there’s another way. Kind of sad, really.

The thing is: If that’s your choice, you’re going to miss the best part . . you know . . the part that comes after the half . . the part that’s filled with unknowns and unknowings . . the part where the real living – the real good and powerful drama – takes place.

Of course, it’s your choice entirely.

Personally, I’d choose living dramatically with all the unknowns any day . . over going through the motions and landing in bitter, crusty biddyland. But that’s me.

Or, maybe it’s you as well!

What’s So Great About The Second Half

When we’re young, everything is an unknown. And we accept the not knowing as an excitement-filled challenge.

Then we grow up, and the unknowns become less exciting and more scary . . more threatening to our status quo. The older we get, the less we seem to look to the unknowns for sources of meaning in our lives.

And that’s where I think we go wrong.

Somehow, or other, we get ourselves completely turned inside-out-backwards in the overall scheme of things.

We know that we gravitate to the second half of things we love.

> What if there were something in our own second half that drew us ever forward in it as well?

> What if, rather than focusing on all the stuff we don’t like about aging, we had something far stronger pulling on us to engage with the best part – the part that comes after the half?!

> What if the second half really is about engaging more deeply rather than disengaging and pulling back?

> What if the movies and the books we love have something far more important to teach us than we ever imagined – that the answers we’ve been seeking have always been waiting for us to catch up with them in the second half?!

It just makes perfect sense, don’t you think?

Actually, tell me what you think. Challenge yourself – and me – on this. Go ahead. Support me, or try to prove me wrong.  I love it!

Keep growing my friend,

Gail

©2009 Celebrate Aging. All Rights Reserved.

It never worked.

Perfection was too hard . . too flat . . too drab and empty a space for my youthful imagination to fill.

And so, over and over again I told myself I had failed. Over and over again, unsuccessfully striving to fit myself into the space inside the lines where adult thinking ruled, I let myself believe I had failed.

Yet how could that have been so, when I had no idea against what measure I was weighing such a heavy load?

Failure. Perfection. What about everything in between?!

How could “failure” have been the response when my childhood dreams simply over-shot perfection’s narrow purview of all that was right and possible?

Then again, they did overshoot . . time and time again. And each time, perfection reminded me how very wrong I was to imagine I was somehow better than perfection itself.

Perfection, I now have grown to realize, had a serious deficit in the area of self esteem. And being such, it had little need of anything that might threaten its status – particularly children’s dreams . . particularly mine.

Yet I was a child. I was a dreamer. My dreams were the greatest gift I could offer that most demanding god of all things perfect.

So, each time perfection rejected my dreams, I told myself I had failed. I believed perfection was what was expected of me, and I hadn’t delivered. I had been rejected.

Then again, what does a child know of things like perfection? To a youngster, what is most alive is perfect . . perfectly wonderful . . perfectly messy . . perfectly doable . . perfectly dream-able.

There is no “either/or” in a child’s mind. Absolutes such as those just can’t breathe in such places.

Perfection Is A Dream Killer

No. “Either/Or” lives in the world of adults. It thrives among straight lines and clean rooms (brain rooms as well as the boxes we adults construct around ourselves and live in).

Adults even create rules to support perfection.

(I know this to be a fact. I eventually grew up and became one. We all do. But don’t worry. It doesn’t last forever.)

And then these same adults – in their seeming all-knowingness and desire to help everyone else find the structured perfection they themselves found – make everyone else (particularly kids and old people) fit themselves into those rules . . those silly coloring inside the lines rules.

You perform as expected . . or you fail. Things have to be measured, you know.

Black or White.

Good or Bad.

Win 0r Lose

Right or Wrong.

Seems simple enough, right? Leave out all the colorful shades of gray where we can get bogged down in dreaming, and no one will get lost in the spaces between the lines.

Put your dreams and fuzzy thinking away, and perfection can reign supreme.

Then again, some adults get so caught up in striving for perfection that they seem to forget:

* It’s in those spaces between the lines and outside the lines where life happens and our dreams get born and grow; and

* Not even adults can live for long without dreams; and

* Trying to live simply within the lines – perfectly – can be very hard when what you’re actually doing is straddling two extremes, neither one of which was ever particularly simple.

Let’s Ask Perfection To Step Aside

You know, the older I get, the less value I see in striving for perfection. It’s so tiring. It’s so overrated. It’s so inflexible.

And what has the push for perfection ever done but create more problems, when what we need now are more and better answers – more wiggly lines on the uneven pages of life?

Besides, I keep finding myself being drawn ever deeper back into those shades of gray where the messiness that is my dreaming lives (not that I ever really left).

The way I see it: We need shades of gray to keep us from going mad!

That’s why aging is so very important. It gives us permission to go looking for meaning in the margins of life – the gray areas – where absolutes hold no sway.

Aging gives us permission . .

NO! . . . Actually, aging gives us authority to grow old outside the lines – beyond the artificiality of perfection – where life happens.

I can’t help believing that somewhere in each of our midlife lives, we are called to stand up and tell perfection to step aside and take a seat.

Somewhere after the middle, there comes a time in our lives when labels like perfection and failure no longer matter. It is a time when the uncertainties of life, the shades of gray, hold far more significance than the purest of adulthood’s absolutes.

But that’s a lot of gray! If you – like I – are somewhere past life’s halfway point, you may be wondering what’s left for you to do and to be in all that gray (i.e., the new spaces between the lines). What is aging asking of you? What is aging expecting of you!

What Is Your Next Step?

You haven’t forgotten how to dream, have you! (Of course you haven’t! Let go of the absolutes, and breathe some new life into that great dreaming of yours.)

You haven’t forgotten where you put your dreams back those many years ago, have you? (Go find them. See what they have to offer you now that you can look at them the with the more creative, less perfect, eyes of life’s second half.)

You haven’t forgotten HOW to turn your dreams into magic, have you? (It’s okay if you have. A little practice, and you’ll be right back where you were when the child that was you fought off  all your fire-breathing dragons with dreams. Now let the aging adult who is you put the dream to new use in fighting the real battles you see in life.)

Our dreams are patient, and most forgiving. Go ahead. Gather up a few and figure out how to save some small corner of the world – or a big chunk if you’re so inclined.

Back when we were young, we believed it was our time to show the world and make a real difference. But we were too young back then to know what our dreams were asking of us.

We’re older now. In fact, we’re old enough to join forces with our dreams and do something real – something that reflects who we’ve become and how much we have to offer in fixing some of the messes we created during that “Adult Perfection” phase of our lives.

Isn’t it time to stop waiting?

Isn’t it time to dream our legacies alive?

We must strip the labels away, and give our aging selves the freedom to dance with uncertainty . . for uncertainty is our constant companion as we grow ever older.

And once we learn to spin the meaning that defines our lives beyond all we imagine to be perfect, the gray areas of our aging will turn to brilliant color.

Perfection will hide its face.

And our dreams will guide us home.

.   .   .   .   .

Have you spent much of your life battling against the forces of perfection? How did you do with that, by the way?

What dreams have you set aside in the name of striving for perfection? What dreams are you now ready to give new life in the name of aging outside of perfection – aging into the pure messy creativity where real answers to real problems live?

And, how do you imagine your dreams might give your answers new form?

Please, share your stories and your dreams here. After all, we’re all dreamers. And we love to support each others dreams as they you figure out how to dance in the spaces between the lines.

Keep growing my friend,

Gail

©2009 Celebrate Aging. All Rights Reserved.

It’s true. Well, it’s pretty much true. The rest is artistic license. But follow my line of thinking anyway, if you would. It might actually hold something worth your consideration.

As I’ve mentioned here numerous times, aging is not a single point in time. It is a process. And within that process, contradiction rules.

Yet, for all the contradictions and all our many worries and questions, Aging has but one perfect response:

“Absolutely! And . .”

“Absolutely! And . . what?” you ask.

And Aging . . in its infinite wisdom, always answers back, “Absolutely, and YES!”.

I know. Aging loves to play games with us. Let’s forget about Aging’s commentary for a moment, and get back to its contradictions. The rest will work itself out as we move along.

In Aging, Contradictions Rule!

Contradictions. Opposites. Aging is full of them.

Just think of it for a moment, holding in each hand all the possible opposites Aging brings to your mind.

I’ve listed a few possibilities. They won’t all be true for you. Some might hold no meaning for you at all. I offer them just to help you stir your own pot. See what you think:

1. Old OR Young

2. To Have or To Gain OR To Lose

3. Wisdom OR Cognitive Decline

4. Strong OR Fragile or Weak

5. Perspective OR Loss of Sensual Acuity

6. Alive OR Dead, or Dying

7. Holding On OR Letting Go

8. One, Alone OR All, Together

9. Opening OR Closing, Shutting Down

10. Gaining, Getting, Having OR Being, Becoming

11. Control OR Sacrifice of Will

12. Authority OR Invisible

These are just a few of Aging’s contradictions – it’s “Either / Or’s” – that came rolling off my fingers. I’m sure you have many more.

But, what do they mean? And, why should they matter?

What does any of this mean in a world where we expect most things to make some degree of sense to us? At least, most things except aging . . which seems to make little or no sense in many of our minds.

Fair enough.

Re-Framing The Contradictions

What if we turn these 12 opposing concepts into something greater . . something really contradictory in scope? Would that help?

Let me reframe each of the opposing concepts I’ve listed above. This time, though, at them through aging’s lens of “Absolutely! And” rather than “either/or”.

See if you connect with the changes differently than you did with the comparative words alone:

1. As I grow old, I choose to remain forever young at heart.

2. Whoever I may lose through the years, I will always feel blessed in knowing how much I gained simply by having known at all.

3. Wisdom grows in the core of each of us, fully aware of our physical and cognitive decline. Wisdom is far larger than any of these things by which we value or devalue ourselves.

4. However fragile I may look in my advancing years, my will is stronger than that of one 10 times my size. Fear me, for my fragility is but an outer show and I will not cower before you.

5. Though my eyes may have weakened and my hearing dimmed, my perspective on life is stronger by far . . and any faint losses in sensual acuity which have made my abiding acquaintance will support me full-heartedly.

6. I grow older, day by day, fully aware that every moment I am alive I am dying . . but not yet dead. And that keeps me looking forward to what comes next.

7. The older I become, the more clearly I recognize that my grasp is finite. I cannot gather in and hold on to one thing without letting go of another, lest in the end I’ve no room to hold any.

8. I am one individual, aging alone as we all must age alone, a universe . . all (of me) together and complete unto myself.

9. As the years come and go, and I grow more clearly to know the deeper parts of myself, I find that I am ever more protective of my sovereignty. What does this mean? It means that I open myself to outside forces and shut down that which does not support me far more consciously and selectively than I did in my youth,

10. When I was young – and even not that long ago – life seemed to be all about gaining, getting, and having . . things, people, etc. The older I get, however, the more I realize the gifts to be gained not in having, but in being and becoming.

11. Control is not something we question in life’s first half. It simply IS. The older we get, however, the more our control comes into question as we are repeatedly asked – or even expected – to sacrifice our will to that of someone(s) younger than ourselves. Who might they think they are? And who, I wonder, do they think they’re dealing with?! Then again, might I not at the same time be in control while choosing to sacrifice my will to a greater cause than myself?

12. I fully intend to the end of my days that I might continue to have sovereignty over my self and my life. Sovereignty grants me authority, without which I might become invisible even to myself. Then again, authority that fits comfortable around us is just as invisible as the air we breathe.

Can You Age In Contradiction?

Sometimes, even that which contradicts supports a non-contradiction. And isn’t that just what our aging is all about?!

Many of us look so disparagingly upon aging. It’s seen as reducing and taking away from that place in our lives where we’ve dug ourselves a little hole and crawled in for comfort.

But life isn’t about being comfortable, is it?

No. It’s about living. It’s about change and adapting to change, and growing into and through change.

And if you aren’t doing that, it doesn’t matter your age . . because you’re dead inside.

Aging holds a contraction: There is no way to age well. But there are absolutely billions of individual ways to age perfectly . . . and!

“Absolutely! And”: Our Answer From Aging

.    .    .    .    .

What contradictions is aging bringing to you for your blessings as you move through midlife? And in how many of those have you found the “Absolutely! And” that it has waiting for you?

Please share your thoughts and stories in a comment on this post.

Keep growing my friend,

Gail

©2009 Celebrate Aging. All Rights Reserved.

Now, you may say that’s the case for everyone – idealist or not. And you’d be right, sort of.

You see, you and I have a bit of a dilemma that the others never face when it comes to aging. We have dreams that we’ve been dreaming for a long time – dreams about helping people and making real and significant positive changes in the world, but we haven’t gotten around to giving them life.

That’s right. Go look under your bed, behind the couch, back in the back of the closet, downstairs, upstairs, up in the attic. Some of your dreams may be quietly sleeping, others screaming for your attention. But they’re all right where you put them, and have been putting them all these years.

They never left that place where you told them to wait for you when you promised you’d be right back to give them life.

Ahhhh, but they were so to hopeful and shiny back then.

And maybe you have been coming back regularly – just to check and make sure they’re still there and healthy. Then again, maybe not.

Time and life kind of get in the way, don’t they?

So Many Dreams. So Little Time.

And let’s face it, at some point along the way – perhaps many points – we’ve all been told to buckle down and put the dreams away. Did you listen to that? It’s okay if you did. (There’s no guilt to doing what we’re told we should do.)

But like I said, time and life keep moving on. And even idealists grow older in step with the intertwined  movements of time and life.

So here we are.

Midlife idealists.

Aging.

And we have unexplored dreams – lots of unexplored dreams – waiting for our return.

Yep, sounds like a bit of a dilemma to me.

But there’s a catch. (There’s always a catch, isn’t there? That’s what keeps things fun!)

Dreams go on forever, but we don’t.

It’s true. A dream will sit and wait for you through eternity. But we – you and I – don’t have that long.

Our lives are much shorter.

And that means we have decisions to make.

But we’re idealists – dreamers. Decisions sound so much like taking action. That isn’t part of the idealist contract, is it?

You bet it is, baby!

We idealistic-types tend to get a bad rap for living in our own dreamworlds – “unrealistic” dreamworlds. You know: “Those who can, do. Those who can’t dream of doing.”

It’s not true, of course. We do a great deal of world-saving-type-stuff. Or, we think about doing it. Some do it – in great ways – and give hope to the rest.

Then again, thinking about doing counts, doesn’t it?

Sorry, not so much.

And that takes us back to that deciding part . . that deciding about doing part . . that deciding and then doing part.

So, here’s the thing: The world needs us. Our communities need us. Our little teeny tiny corners of the world need us. Even our families (however we define them) need us.

It’s time for us – aging idealists all – to do something very brave. It’s called, “Getting Off The Pot”. (Actually, most people call it something longer and more descriptive than that, but I’m not a potty-mouth.)

Regardless of how we choose to phrase it, though, this very old message is the same: “If you aren’t part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.”

Our Dreams Can Feed Our Legacy

If you haven’t done it yet, at some point fairly soon, you’re probably going to start thinking about how your life has contributed to making the world a better place – or not.

You’re going to start trying to figure out what your legacy is to those who are coming after you, and who matter to you.

We all do it. Even if we don’t have children and grandchildren looking to us to pass our life’s gifts down to them, we all still go through the process of assessing our lives.

In whose lives have I made a difference?

Who has been changed for the better by something I said, or did?

What did I do to save the world?

Yep, we aging idealists have decisions to make.

* We can go through the rest of our lives wagging our finger at all the many problems and injustices we know to exist, while continuing to do nothing but imagine how we would solve them . . if only . .

* Or, we can choose to hang out under the bed, behind the couch, in the back of the closet, downstairs, upstairs, up in the attic, and where ever else we’ve stuck our dreams . . chatting with them about the possibilities . . and promising to come back and give them life . . some day . . when we have the time . .

* Or, we can dust off those dreams and take a good, solid accounting of them.

How can I tweak this one to reduce the scope of that problem?

How might this other one help to turn around that nasty little issue in my neighborhood right now?

How could I put those two together and create something that would make these kids smile for a long, long time – or even a short time?

The really powerful thing about all those dreams we’ve been keeping is that we created them and we know what makes them tick.

And at our very core, we know what it’s going to take to make our dreams real in other people’s lives just as they’ve always been real to us.

In other words: We know how to give our dreams life.

Let’s Start DOING SOMETHING With Our Dreams!

We just have to start getting off the pot, and doing it!

How about it? You know your dreams have been waiting for just the right time and opportunity.

Isn’t that time NOW? And what better opportunity will you . . I . . all of us ever have?!

Let’s commit to doing something, damn it!

Let’s fix the cracks in the world, one dream at a time.

I know we can do it if each of us just takes one dream, and moves it one tiny step forward . . and then another . . and then another.

We’ve already dreamed the solutions into place millions of times over. Now let’s start turning our dreams into realities, before we’re too old and the cracks are too big.

What do you say? Will you join me?

One dream. One step. That’s all I’m asking, for now.

.    .    .    .

What problem(s) do you want to take on? And what from among all your dreams can you use to change just a tiny corner of it – or them – for the better?

Tell me what. Share your dream, and tell me how that dream can help.

This is exciting stuff, but only if we get behind it and make it happen. I know we can.

Keep growing my friend,

Gail

©2009 Celebrate Aging. All Rights Reserved.

And then this morning, I woke to music. Actually, this morning I woke to an old song that refused to leave me alone. (Yoohoo . . about that growing sleep deficit)

Good thing, in the long run I guess. Staying in bed all day would have created some major guilt issues.

About That Music

So, about that music: It kept playing over and over again, tapping me on the shoulder, and turning up the volume each time I tried to close my eyes and fall back to sleep.

Do you have any idea how annoying a song can get when it feels it’s being ignored?

Then again, do you have any idea how annoyed I can get when I’m trying to sleep and some song – any song – keeps pawing at my middle-aged brain?

Why am I asking you? Of course you do, don’t you!

I don’t remember inviting this particular tune into my thoughts. Apparently, though, this was a song that wanted to be heard in a major way.

It was a song with a message.

For me? Quite possibly.

For you? Wouldn’t be surprised.

For each of us in our own ways, in our own times, as we find ourselves questioning what it takes to keep our dreams alive and well as we grow through the years of midlife and beyond.

For whatever reason it appeared to me, this is song I want to share with you. It will take you back in time, in a very good way.

Do us both a favor, and don’t listen to it within a couple hours of going to bed. You won’t get rid of it, and then you won’t sleep, and then you’ll be blaming me.

Consider yourself forewarned.

Now sit back and enjoy. I hope it will make you smile as much as it did me.

And remember . . .

Whatever else you may believe about aging, know that the years cannot take away your dreams. Fairy Tales DO indeed come true when you’re young at heart!

.    .    .    .   .

Are there any songs that have special significance to you when you’re in need of a reminder about holding on to your dreams?

What songs feed your imagination and your dreams as you grow through life’s second half?

Please share. We can all learn from you recommendations.

Keep growing my friend,

Gail

©2009 Celebrate Aging. All Rights Reserved.

Are they under the bed, having tea and crumpets with your local dust bunnies?

Then again, have you been stuffing them – very unceremoniously, I might add – into that corner closet where you stuff everything else you don’t care to deal with right now, but figure you’ll get back to eventually? (When is eventually, by the way?)

They could all be breeding like flies in there, you know. I’d check up on them every so often if I were you.

Except you put them there because you don’t want to deal with them, right?

Okay, forget about the checking up. Just watch your back. Even good dreams can go bad when they’re stuck in the dark all the time.

And that’s why I’m talking to you now, so listen up.

Except before you getting even more confused than you might already be, let me set the record straight: I am not talking here about the dreams that show up in the middle of the night to keep your mind occupied when you’re sound asleep and snuggled down deep in REM-land.

And I’m not suggesting you might want to start taking more naps so you can sneak up on the antics of those same middle-of-the-night dreams that don’t expect to see you during the day. Just don’t do it. They get testy. And testy dreams are not at all pleasant.

Where Are Your Earliest Dreams?

I’m talking about the dreams that really matter to you. You know the ones.

I’m talking about the dreams you started building long ago – when you were young. You remember . . the dreams that were going to lead you to love, adventure, amazing places with equally amazing people.

Okay, so some from your earliest years aren’t exactly applicable now – at least not in their raw form. That’s alright.

You still have them. That means they still matter to you in some way or other.

And as long as you still have them, you can work with them. You can repurpose them.

My Childhood Dreams:

You know, when I was about 4 or 5 years old, I dreamed of heading out to California to live with “Truth of Consequences” TV show host Bob Barker, and his horn-honking chimp. I didn’t care about Bob Barker. I didn’t care about the show. I just dreamed about growing up with a chimp for a friend. How cool could THAT be?!

In any case, I packed up a small bag and toddled on down to my neighbor’s house to ask for a ride to the airport. They, of course – being much older and wiser – saw through my brilliant plan and called my parents.

So much for realizing big dreams in our early years.

The thing is, though: I didn’t lose the dream. (Obviously) I put it under the bed. And that’s where it’s been waiting for me ever since.

And, as you can see, I visit it every so often to make sure it’s alive, well, and still happy under there.

Who’s to say what it holds for me now? Who’s to say what new directions I might choose to take it, now that I have so many more inner resources and tools to apply to it?

Who’s to say, indeed!

(Just for the record, I also dreamed a little after that time of going off to live with Albert Schweitzer in Africa. Once again, it was about the monkeys. Don’t ask. I don’t know where in my heritage monkeys came into the picture, but there was a definite connection somewhere.)

Don’t Grow Old Without ALL Your Dreams!

And what of my later dreams? There have been plenty through the years.

Some I’ve followed to their ends – not always good ends, but ends.

Some I set aside – under the bed – for later.

Some will stay with me in their raw, unrealized, form.

Others will reach out for me when the time is right . .  when I know how and where to give them life.

Dreams are magic. We mustn’t grow old without them!

I know some people believe that dreams are the stuff of childhood. They think adult dreamers are misfits, losers, lost souls.

They fear more harm can come from trying on our dreams and learning that some aren’t what we think them to be, than leaving all of them under the bed.

I believe such individuals couldn’t be more wrong.

We need dreamers. We need to be dreamers. And we need to give life to every dream we possibly can – for our own sakes.

Deciding to live forever alone in one’s dreamland is not particularly bright nor healthy. It’s also rather selfish.

But dreams give us options we would never have known existed in pure reality-based thinking.

In The End, We Are ALL Dreamers

Whatever our age or our ilk, dreams stretch our imagination. They help us laugh at our limits and reach across the boundaries of what we know in our limited experience with the world to be.

And the older we get, the more our dreams show us of pathways to places in ourselves we’ve yet to travel . .  and experiences we’ve yet to explore.

Who among us can believe that the greatest of discoveries came from reality thinking? NO! Each and every one sprang first from dreaming!

And in a world and time where growing old is so often seen as shutting down, I see dreaming as the magic potion for capturing eternal youth.

There is no age limit to dreams. And there is no age limit to what can be created of and through dreams – if one has the opportunity to give their dreams life.

We all are dreamers, whether we admit to it or not.

And most of us will one day grow old.

I fully intend to give each and every one of my dreams a chance to breathe the air and feel the sun. (Okay, so some dust bunnies may get lonely. Then again, new dreams are always coming along.)

What about you?

What dreams are tugging on your heart to spend more time with them -  and their friends – expanding your picture of the world?

How can you heal some little corner of your world with the help of your dreams?

Play with the opportunities my friend. Share your dreamings and what they’re telling you to do and to become in the years ahead.

Promise yourself that you will let your dreams support your growing older just as you support their life.

Refuse to grow old without your dreams!

It’s all good stuff.

Keep growing my friend,

Gail

©2009 Celebrate Aging. All Rights Reserved.

What memories do we cherish?

Which would we prefer pick up their toys and leave us alone – forever more?

And what of the ones that just sit there, challenging us to become or to be . . . what exactly?

Yep, looking back can be hard work.

The Tough Side Of Reflection

Then again, reflecting back – and by this I mean really digging in and ruminating on what got us to the place we now are . . good, bad, and hard – can be downright maddening! At least by my count.

Were the good parts really as good as I once imagined them? Or, did I make them seem better than they were so I could feel better about myself when I was spending a little too much time kicking my inner self?

Then again, was my assessment of “good” not nearly good enough – given all that came after?

How do I judge one youthful experience against another of seemingly equal impact in my life, when most of those old memories have lost their edges and become shades of gray? Does that make their meaning somehow less than I’d have expected?

What do they have to teach me from among their fine ripples and distinctions? What are they trying to say to me if only I could hear?

Then again, why am I even rummaging through such nondescript memories? What do they have to contribute to my life’s meaning? Is non-description all there is of my life?

Or, are those even the experiences I should be counting? Maybe there are others that should have much more meaning for me in the long run.

On the other hand, maybe I’m just not digging down far enough to find the jewels hidden in the ever-shifting sands of my life. How can I tell?

Can I really be sure what I once labeled as “BAD” still seems that way, now that I’m able to see it as part of a bigger picture in my life’s tapestry?

And what of all the gup that just sort of filled in the drafty gaps of my life? Why is that the stuff that torments me and nags at me even more than the ultimate highs and lows of the life I remember living thus far?

Why, indeed.

Yesterday, in Part 1 of this short two part series, I shared some thoughts on the importance of reflecting back over our lives as we start at the midpoint and move onward through life’s second half.

Today, I’m ramping that up just a bit to take a quick look at some of the points in our lives we think of as being “Good”, “Bad”, and “Hard” when it comes to how we see them in our memories.

What makes some of them harder to reflect on than others? And why are those the ones we can’t seem to get rid of?

How is it that some that once seemed so good, can now carry a more bitter taste – if they’ve any flavor at all?

And how could it be that some we could barely bring ourselves to remember because of the pain they once inflicted, now seem to have softened and grown dimmer as we reflect upon them?

Let me show you how my memories have been coloring the experiences of my life. (I wouldn’t use my experience as a guidepost for your own, but maybe it will help you as you work on sorting through the experiences that made you the person you’ve become . . and continue to become.)

Reflecting Back

There’s just one thing I want to remind you before I get started: The deep, all important part of reflection happens in life’s 4th quarter. I’m talking with you from the 3rd, so I haven’t even begun to really dig for meaning.

What I do know and want to impress upon you at this point, however, is that each experience in our lives is but a speck in the overall tapestry of our being.

We put a great deal of energy into individual experiences, and they are important in individual moments in time. They just aren’t everything. Each experience – good, bad, and hard – connects with each other experience to move us along the path we’ve chosen for ourselves.

You, I, each of us is in control of what we do with the good, the bad, and the hard in our lives. We get to choose. And we also get to choose the meaning it carries for us.

Now let’s get going:

The Good

A lot of good comes our way as we move through life – even if there’s a lot of bad mixed in along the way. This Good forms the source of our later life stories . . the stories we rely on to define us, and our purpose in life.

In the earlier parts of midlife, much of what we remember are still the individual experiences surrounding the Good. Pure memory sits at the core, in brilliant colors. From that point out, however, both the strength of the memory and the strength of the colors that memory holds fade until they eventually become one with the rest of the nondescript gray matter which holds them in place.

Try as we might to recapture the experiences and stories that make up the gray, it doesn’t often happen. We’ve no room to remember them all. And so these lesser things come to form the basis of our forgettings.

(One or another might pop into consciousness every so often, but they don’t stay. They haven’t made a big enough impression amidst all the other Goods’ we’ve accumulated.)

A Couple of My Goods:

When I think back, certain days and times within days edge everything else out of the way in my mind’s movies. There’s no particular natural sequencing to the things I recall.

Maybe I unconsciously reach for one over another because that’s what I need at that moment in time. Maybe I’m just not experienced enough at pulling the memories to me yet to do it another way.

In any case, certain from among all my good memories hold privilege in my mind. They are but snippets – very good and cherished snippets – of things like:

A warm spring day in my childhood. I’m perhaps 4 or 5 years old. Picking violets on the hillside above our house. Amidst the soft hues of springtime, the brilliant violet purples offer themselves up to me, and I wrap my fingers round them with a hunger of youthful delight. Just a scrawny little kid with my fists full of the purple treasure, an offering greater than gold to my mother. And she hugs me as only a mother can. All is good, and warm, and right in my small world.

Nothing world-saving in magnitude, this is an experience I roll over and over again in my mind – with great tenderness and love. This is definitely one I will carry with me till my day’s end.

Or, another:

It’s cold outside, so my grandmother has come to spend the winter with us. It’s morning – early. The smell of my grandmother’s tea ring (her own special recipe) fills the house as nothing else ever could or has since. This is a smell of cinnamon, yeast, and love. It’s a smell of years filled with winters filled with cinnamon, yeast, and love. And when I think back to my grandmother, and her time with us in all those years I was growing up, it is that smell and the amazing taste it foretold . . and the warmth it shared with fingers covered in gooey icing.

Small things. Memories. Treasured memories of people long gone and the gifts they shared with me. Again, nothing world shaping. Or, maybe it was for one tiny corner of the world.

The Good.

Why do so many of the memories I treasure come from my earliest years? I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that I’ve had all the rest of my life to look at them, roll them around in my mind, and put them near the front where I can most easily find them.

The things I best remember as Good are also big picture in their scope rather than single events. They happened over and over again, so I could be reminded of their value to me over and over again.

It isn’t that other things aren’t important. They just haven’t lived in my thoughts as long.

The Bad

Ah, yes. We all have memories of bad experiences.

But, something seems to happen to the bad memories as we grow ever older. They lose their power over us.

When you look back in your history for the memories you intend to carry forward, are any of them bad from the point of still holding you captive to the pain they caused?

Or, have the hard and bad experiences of your life been transformed into teachings from which you could learn more about your self? I’m betting on the latter, at lease for the most part.

It isn’t about pretending the bad didn’t happen. We know it did. We said things. We did things. We hurt and got hurt.

My Bad.

When my marriage fell apart, I believed I was worthless . . unloved . . incapable of being loved . . worthless!

Was it true? No. But that was the memory I carried with me for years . . into every situation, relationship, experience I had. And that was the memory that colored my view of myself and all around me.

Yet, the memory lost its power as I gained my own. As I learned to trust myself, that painful experience lost its significance for me – as do most bad experiences – if we let them.

It became just one more experience stored away in the vault of my mindbank – to set aside or use as I saw fit.

And I have used parts of it over the years, as a great teacher of important life lessons.

It taught me I could survive the hard in life. It taught me to tap into the strength at my core, and to use that to hold myself up when it seemed nothing else could.

And it taught me to trust beyond myself again. A very hard lesson. But a necessary lesson for thriving in the real world.

Finally, it taught me to take care of myself and my needs first – above and beyond anyone else. Unless I am whole, what can I be for another?

The Bad in life is never easy.

It takes time to get beyond it.

But in getting beyond it, we learn from it.

Would it be better to have no Bad? Looking back, I can say now that I don’t think so. I wish the Bad weren’t so hard, but it isn’t as bad as we’re led to believe.

Sometimes the things we must learn in life can only come from tough teachers.

What have you learned from the Bad experiences of  your life?

How did you transform them and use them to your advantage?

And how will you continue to transform them as you move forward in remembering your life?

The Hard

When I peer into the whole of my life’s experiences – at least those I remember, I have to admit that it’s the hard ones that give me the most trouble. Of course, I’m still young.

More than experiences, the Hard are questions grown of experiences.

The Hard are the big questions that stall out our memory banks completely. Generally, they give us headaches.

The Hard consist of questions like:

What is the meaning of my life?

Why am I here? What is my purpose? Have I lived my purpose well? Have I even found my purpose? How will I know?

Why does it take so long to figure out the things that matter?

What part of my life is worth passing on – and to whom?

Could I have lived my life any better than I did? And, what can I change in the time I have left?

Who will remember me? For what?

When all is said and done, will my being here have mattered?

Yep, those are definitely some of the Hard.

Answering them requires serious inner focus. That’s why we don’t get to try them on for size will we’re in life’s 4th quarter.

Till you are, though, it’s important to remember that all the answers for your version of the Hard are already inside you. You have them. No long journeys or pilgrimages needed.

You just have to be on good terms with your memory.

And that’s why I’m telling you now: Don’t wait. Start reflecting back on your life early – in small steps to start. There’s no need to get overwhelmed with it. You’ll have plenty of time later.

For now, though:

Start gathering up and sorting your memories.

See what learnings they have waiting for you. Don’t go in with guns blasting. Instead, quietly ask yourself what you have learned from each of the different experiences you keep being pulled back to. There are learnings galore in there. Go looking, and see what you find.

Keep growing my friend,

Gail

©2009 Celebrate Aging. All Rights Reserved.

Quite possibly, back checking out old dialogue, reframing difficult experiences, and packing up the lessons that are still waiting to be learned from some old “home movie” I keep playing in my mind.

Or, maybe it’s just wandering aimlessly through my memory banks . . checking out who knows what . . and its possible application for something else.

You get the picture. You may even be in the picture, for all I know. After all, my mind movies are little if not welcoming of new character actors. We may have come across each other at some point along the way, and now there you are – in my head . . with no defining labels or tags to tell me where you came into my history or if you ever really left.

Then again, if you’re in there, I guess you haven’t left have you? So you still have a role to play. Okay.

Reflection: Aging’s Inner Work

Anyway, it’s all part of the inner work of reflection we take up in life’s second half. Sounds challenging, doesn’t it? (And you thought aging was a declining matter.)

Ahh, yes. The inner work. The reflecting. The thinking back. The recollecting of facts and judgments, and the re-ordering of inner priorities.

Heavy stuff. Wonder why it waits till after the half to really get started. I wonder a lot of things about it, actually.

For instance: Why am I being bothered with this reflection-type stuff now, in the third quarter of my life? Can’t I see how busy I am!

And how do I give it its due, without letting it take over my existence? After all, reflection is primarily 4th quarter work – not 3rd. So how do I dip my toes into that pond – where I’ll soon enough be doing back stroke while sipping mental merlots – without going too far in, or feeling a future chill and running in the other direction?

What should it mean to me when – somewhere after reaching the midpoint in my existence – I find myself spending more and more time looking inward and back rather than out at the rest of the world?

Then again, I’ve always been kind of inward-looking. Why would this be any different? Ramped up a bit, maybe. But hardly different.

(Okay, so what was named in childhood as daydreaming, is now a more accepted and refined “reflection”. Pretty much the same thing so far as I can see. It’s still the inside work it always was – just in heavier doses with social approval.)

Then again, this could be great! If everyone else starts doing what I’ve been doing all along, I might finally be part of the IN CROWD! How exciting can aging get!

Then again, that’s probably not what it’s all about, right? (Good try, though.)

The fact of the matter is that reflection is one of the principle calls to which we each must respond in life’s second half. That’s pretty much a given.

Why Is Reflection Such A Loaded Process?

Yet, the way I see it, that simple fact is loaded with some not so comfortable questions.

For instance:

When are we to start the more serious version of reflecting? At what age? At what point in our maturing . . in our ripening? (Always the Girl Scout, I hate not being prepared!)

Is there some internal clock who’s alarm will tell us NOW is the time!? And then what?

And what if you or I aren’t ready for that wake-up call?

You heard me: What if we decide instead to hit the “Snooze” button – over and over again – so we can keep on looking out at what we know and are comfortable with knowing – rather than opening a curtain and peeking in to that darker (scary-making) space where our feelings, beliefs, memories and our recalling have been living all these years?

Then again, if reflection is a primary driver in life’s second half, what does that mean for us? What does that mean in our society that lives its life facing outside itself . . looking anywhere but inside?

What awaits us?

What is the good? . . The bad? . . The hard we’re challenged to face as we journey inside ourselves?

And what if you or I are determined we don’t want to go there? They can’t make us, can they? (just kidding, sort of)

Of course, I’m no longer a child afraid of my shadow. I understand far more of myself and the world around me than I once did.

I know I did some things in the first half of my life that I’m not the least bit proud of. I know I hurt people. And I know there were many times I didn’t respond well to being hurt myself.

And I know that all that knowing is sitting in there – somewhere – waiting for me to dredge it back up for a more reasoned look at it.

(Personally, I’d just as soon it stay were it is as long as possible. Of course, maybe dealing with it and getting past it are exactly what I need to re-order it and move on. Damn!)

And I also know that I, alone, am in control of my thoughts. No one else can make me take those thoughts into places I don’t want to be with them. And there’s nothing those thoughts can do to me that I don’t give them permission to do.

That means I’m tougher than I look.

Reflection As Midlife Learning

And from that perspective, perhaps there’s something more to this refocusing of energies around reflecting on the past than at first it would seem.

Perhaps there’s actually something greater for me to learn by reflecting from the inside out – something vitally important for me to learn . . NOW . . with all the understanding, experience . . tools not available to me till sometime after the half.

And let’s face it: I am most definitely past the half!

So what is it about the looking inward – the reflection – that lies ahead on my and your journeys through life’s second half? It seems like such a big endeavor when looking at the whole of it.

Might it be easier to deal with it in smaller chunks? And what if we added some labels, and can kind of smorgasbord it through the good, the bad, and the hard memories that are waiting for our attention.

Now, that sounds like a plan to me.

Of course, if I were to just step out of my head and acknowledge reality for the briefest of minutes, I’d have to admit that none of this happens in a flash. We have a whole second half to reflect. And for most of us, that’s a long long time.

It’s just the getting started part that makes us all flummoxed. And the now knowing how part. And the not wanting to mess up part. And the not wanting to disappoint part.

For Tomorrow:

Tomorrow, we’re going to dig into the good, the bad, and the hard in all this midlife reflection we’re starting to do.

For now, just think about it a little.

Give yourself a little time to open the vaults and bring some fresh air in as you consider what’s waiting for you back there in your past:

What was the good within your life’s history – so far – that you want to bring forward in your memory banks to save and pass on to those who will follow you?

What was the bad in your life’s history – so far – from which you learned and grew, or have yet to learn and deal with before passing on the lessons it carried for you? (Don’t pull it out and wallow in it. Just dust it off and look at it. You’re much stronger now than you were back then. It can’t hurt you now.)

What was the hard in your life’s history – so far – that you may still be struggling to understand, learn from, and put away before sharing its teachings?

That’s all I have to ask of you today. Just think. Grab a flashlight and rummage around a little on those back shelves of your memory. I’m betting that’s where you’ll find some of these answers.

We’ll come back tomorrow and take a better look.

Till then, keep growing my friend,

Gail

©2009 Celebrate Aging. All Rights Reserved.