there are a lot of reasons to zoom through days, to forget about what is really important, to perseverate on things that make us unhappy, things that worry us, things that cause us to push others away, to not take time with others, not give time to others. much of the time we can convince ourselves – somehow – that those reasons are impeccable, that they matter. we can get ourselves all riled up and full of the shadow side of relationships and daily life. and then something wakes us up, takes us out of the dark.
it could be something really inconsequential, seemingly unimportant. the notice of a bird on the wing, the sunrise, dandelion seeds in the wind, a strain of music, a scent. it could be something way bigger – something that brings a sense of mortality, that brings you to a full stop and makes you realize that time is – indeed – passing by and that the moment that has slipped past is never again retrievable.
and suddenly we realize that they are all like that. all the moments.
irretrievable.
and love taps us on the shoulder and reminds us. to take the time, to give the time. to be aware of the things we want to do, the simple stuff that feeds us, the people we love and who love us. it reminds us that there is no time to waste – really, ever – no matter where in life we are. it reminds us we are not all-that and we don’t do this life alone. it reminds us it is flying by and by and more love is the only thing that will last and last – forever.
i felt compelled to tell him. the models in the bra commercial? they are not me. i do not resemble them in any way. not their perfect hair. not their perfect skin. not their perfect…yeah…anyway… “that’s not me,” i told him. he stared at me.
choosing things to wear – particularly to special occasions – is a big deal. we women take that seriously. it needs to be just right. not too much. not too little. not too overstated. not too understated. not too fancy. not too plain. not too overdressed. not too underdressed. there are just sooo many parameters, so many things to consider, so many unknowns…which adds up to much pressure.
then…drumroll…add to all that the factors of menopause and aging and whatever-perfection-there-was-giving-way-to-gravity and you have one helluva what-to-wear predicament.
so, this should never be underemphasized.
the grading curve of how-does-this-look is an absolute modifier.
particularly for partners of women who ask for an opinion.
we want the truth – don’t let us wear THAAAAT – but we also want some grace.
i mean, we are NOT the glamorous bra models in the commercials. we are real-life women who have had real-life physical challenges and babies and stresses and aging and a few too many chips and too few protein drinks, not hydrated enough and overly saturated with the emotions of modern day life, with chutzpah and flexibility and many, many plates spinning at the same time.
so, we wanted to watch a movie. you know, just a simple movie. it had been recommended to us by a friend and it was on our list-of-things-to-watch-someday.
we cozied up on the couch, ready.
he had the remote and the will.
but no power.
whatsoever.
we must have been through the “siri, find….” at least five times. we knewww it was out there. but, on what service? in what app? through what streaming? on what channel?
through the years we have had chromecast, a firestick and apple tv. our tv – itself – is not technically of this era. it’s from around 2008 and is non-smart. all these remote devices have helped. but a potato is still a potato and our vizio is still non-smart.
we persevered.
surfing through hulu, apple tv plus, netflix, amazon prime, youtube movies, spectrum tv, we finally found our movie on peacock. by then, i was already yawning.
but we still persevered.
we spent about fifteen minutes registering and signing in and purchasing and choosing.
i pined for the days of the tv across the room, connected to the antenna on your roof, maybe with a set of bunny ears on the tv stand to help. those days when you simply walked over, turned the dial and the tv came on. then you’d turn the other dial and three major stations would show up. and you’d pick from the shows on those channels, maybe looking up in the daily newspaper (laying next to the couch) for a description of the show or – if you were in-the-money – look it up in tv guide. then you’d settle in for a fine time with the folks in petticoat junction or with granny and jed and elly may and jethro in beverly hills. or maybe gidget or hogan or all in the family or three’s company or mash or happy days or mork and mindy or laverne and shirley or…. the list is endless. but it was all simple. walk to tv. turn on. turn channel dial. turn volume dial. walk back. sit down.
ultimately, we got there. it was like an everest summit. we watched the movie! the whole thing. without interruption and – miraculously – without falling asleep or having the remote ask us – having sensed no movement, no actions on our end – if we wanted it to “continue” and telling us to push “ok” (assuming we could find “ok” on the remote) to stay powered.
it was a personal triumph for us. a team effort. success!!
the other day we were at the library. we passed by stacks and stacks, rows of dvds. we both laughed, knowing we’d be back to check out some good old-fashioned movies. easy-peasy. put it in the dvd player and push “play”. unless, of course, your remote is switched to hdmi mode. in which case, good luck.
i’ve reeeally not been a nap person. napping in the daytime makes me feel kind of out-of-it, like i have to start the day all over again. but in these new days of insomnia…sleeplessness…big swaths of night wide-awake…well, the circumstances are a little different.
it is much easier for – him – to take a nap.
fact of the matter is, it’s much easier for him to sleep. any time. any where. sleep. sleep. sleep.
i’m not sure how he does it, but he lays his head down and he’s gone. meanwhile, i am tossing and turning and trying to figure out why his even breathing is so utterly annoying. yes, i know – i am simply jealous of his sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.
and so, i thought i’d give it a chance – a daytime nap. i knew it would never work. i knew i’d lay down and be wide awake, despite being utterly exhausted. i knew the daylight would prevent me from sleeping. i knew he’d sleep in a second and i would be yearning to just get-up and do-something.
she said it: “we’re 9 to 5’ers!” and i laughed. “so are we!!” i replied. and, most days, it is pretty much true. sleepynightnight time comes earlier these days – with exceptions – and so does the first coffee in the morning. much earlier. and i like it this way. there is nothing like the sunrise streaming in the window, spilling onto our quilt, dogga at our feet and hot coffee in our hands. perfection.
in life, though, neither of us has spent all our time as a 9 to 5’er – in the traditional sense. though we have both had positions in professional arenas, we have mostly spent our lives either working for non-profits or in entrepreneurial projects and ventures. neither of those are 9 to 5 jobs. they are whenever-wherever-however-you-are-needed jobs.
from an earnings point of view, these are usually not spectacularly paying positions. they are not laden with benefits; they generally do not provide any kind of annuity or retirement.
from a practical point of view, there are often not enough hours in a day to do all the work you invest in when you sign on with a non-profit. it takes a big heart and an absence of calculators and time clocks to keep moving the soul of an organization forward. one would be saddened to divide salary paid by hours worked. instead, it takes true joy and every good intention. because it is about service and about passion, patience and resilience. from indeed, “when working for a nonprofit, the work you’re doing is meaningful. instead of working to grow a company, you’re working to make a difference.” the bottom line is mission. 9 to 5 flies in the face of nonprofit anima.
it is what it is.
we drove – early morning – to milwaukee a couple weeks ago. in the thick of commuter traffic and travelers, i was reminded that this was somewhat unfamiliar for me. it was a little hard for me to grok the unhappy faces of drivers around us. maybe they were heading to the 9 to 5. maybe they were tired of the grind. maybe they were just tired. i don’t know.
it prompted conversation between us about the kind of hours we worked in various service organizations and institutions over the decades. always on some kind of salary, those hours weren’t etched in stone. there weren’t time sheets and – likewise – there weren’t end-of-year bonuses. there were giant ideas and creative collaborations, camaraderie developed through shared interests and abilities, dedication with real-live love at the core. that stuff isn’t etched in stone. it’s soul.
i laughed when kate said they were 9 to 5’ers, for they are now retired and volunteering up a storm. but i agreed. for we are as well.
early to bed and early to rise. we are – at long last – real-life 9 to 5’ers.
there are people who are immersed in negativity. they eat it, drink it, breathe it, live it. i have learned – that it matters not what truth is if they can convolute it into their own narrative, if they can spin it as negative, if they can lift themselves up by pushing someone else under water – or, in some cases – under the bus.
life
is too short for that.
is too much a gift for that.
is too interdependent for that.
is too precious for that.
has more potential than that.
and we can all choose differently.
we drove away from negativity. walked down the hill, got into littlebabyscion, drove out of the parking lot, made a right and a left and a right and drove on. away.
and behind us – far behind us – we left the scourge of scowling faces, of spinning stories, of agenda-riddling, of adversarial contention.
and we drove further, further.
away.
i opened the window of littlebabyscion.
the cold air rushed in and swirled around, pulling negativity out.
and i could breathe.
and my sweet momma – through the filament of dimension between us – whispered, “live life, my sweet potato.”
so much to think about. the middle of the night is a mashup festival of thoughts.
sometimes our level of profundity in the night is astounding. we converse and deep dive and solve all the world’s problems, quoting nietzsche and rumi and mary oliver and john muir.
and sometimes, it is less deep, less intense, less – well – anything at all. just random. and one of us – i’m not admitting to being the one – goes on and on, pondering, pondering, pondering – all aloud – convinced the other one of us – again, no pointed fingers here – is actually listening.
meanwhile, the dogga jumps up on the end of the bed – groaning – and yawns, falling into a deep slumber, his paws running, running, running, in dreamland.
sometimes nights are forever.
*****
and, speaking of random…that reminds me of a great 70s song that has nothing to do with this because we are both right here….still, great song!
the thing about being awake before the birds in this most-amazing-spring-like-february-roll-into-march is that you hear the birds start to sing. from the very beginning, the very first bird, that first tweet.
most of the time i do not sleep well. it appears that i am falling into the statistics of masses of middle-aged women – all of whom have insomnia, all of whom exhaustedly lay awake at night, all of whom ruminate and perseverate the night away, and maybe some of whom – like me – revel in the sound of first birds.
and this week? well, after a wonderful last weekend, the universe musta felt like we needed a little pounding. i know you know what i mean. sometimes weeks are like that. and sometimes…well, even the best cup of coffee in the world won’t get you out of bed.
as i write this – this very minute – i am …yes… sooo excited!! when your beloved adult children live far away, even a mere moment of a visit is cause for celebration! and so, we’re celebrating!
the lists kept me awake the last few nights. everything i wanted to get done before she arrives, before they arrive. most of it will go unnoticed, i know. and most of it is probably unnecessary. but for me, it’s all important. and pretty impossible. there is no way i will get it all done beforehand. but i will give it my best momma-try.
because there is nothing more profound than seeing your child when you haven’t seen them in a while, nothing more comforting than hugging your child when it’s been a longwhile since you have hugged them, nothing more sustaining than gazing at them – in real life – and memorizing it all until the next time. ❤️
reverse threading 