Peace of Mind

Something's clicked. I don't promise it'll hang around, but it's great for now.
Everything's okay with me.

That's a huge statement coming from an award-winning worrier. If worrying was an Olympic event, I'd have medaled every year since I was a kid.

So what's changed? Damned if I know. But suddenly I've just clicked into "chill" mode and everything that's swirling around me seems like no big deal - all just part of being alive and all small stuff in the big picture.

Money? It'll work out. The future? Who can say? It's okay now. My kids? They've got their worries and their concerns and I'm doing what I can to help, but they'll find their way. Selling the house? It'll work out. Moving into a different place that we like as well or better? We'll figure it out. All my aging relatives and their increasingly scary ailments? It's part of life. We'll be okay. My own future? I've done what I can to make it what I'd like and I'll continue to, the rest is kinda out of my hands.

I have a birthday coming up. The big Five Three. And maybe this is the Universe's gift to me - a break in my constant what-iffing, furrowed browing and restless nights. If that's the case, that's a great present. Thank you very much.

My guy, a stellar human being, is throwing a birthday party for me. I haven't had one in a gazillion years. I think this is going to be a terrific birthday. And I'm going to hang on to this serenity with a relaxed grip and enjoy every second of it.

I deserve it. We all do. So maybe for my birthday I get to wish that for you, too.



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Happy Birthday, Son

My son turned 23 yesterday. He's an immensely tall, lanky young man with a square jaw, a razor-sharp mind and a soft heart. He has been one of the great love affairs of my life, along with his equally exceptional sister.

His arrival changed me forever, as I'm sure it does most parents. Until that point I was the most important person in my life. But he began to move into first place even before he was born; with every kick I felt, every turn, I knew there was a person in my life now who was going to need me to be a far better person than I'd ever been before. He was going to trust me to take care of him, keep him safe and help him navigate this confusing world and I couldn't let him down. I had to grow up.

I was struck yesterday with just how surprising life really is. I was taking a walk on my lunch break, walking up the hill to the state capitol where all the workers in their suits were lined up at the food trucks. I'm one of them now; me, the bohemian who conformed even while she railed against it. I finally know it's just a costume, one I take off when I get home. You bet I can wear your high heels for awhile, pal.

I walked down into the neighborhood where my son's father and I lived when we were first married and looked at the brownstone that was our home. And I wondered if anyone had told me everything that would happen in the intervening 23 years if I'd have panicked.

"You'll have two children and you'll adore them. You'll worry about money a lot. Your parents will get terminal cancer before they're 75 and you'll take care of your father after your mom dies, you'll get divorced. You'll get back into journalism, meet a musician, fall in love and live together. You'll sing back up on his new songs and they'll be on the radio. You'll host and produce a syndicated radio show. You'll write a few books and finally get an agent when you write non-fiction. Then you'll get a swank press job in a building where you need a security badge to get from floor to floor. And you're not done yet."

Much as we try, we really can't begin to predict where life will take us. And if we live by the eleventh commandment, "Thou Shalt Not Bore God", it's going to be a wild ride. But nobody said it wouldn't be scary, that it wouldn't hurt.

I imagine hearing all that 23 years ago, as I sat in my hospital bed with my newborn son in my arms. I suspect I'd have hidden under the covers. It doesn't sound so bad when I write it down, but having lived it, I know that it was more than I would ever voluntarily take on. I have never been that grown up, though I do my best.

Back then, that small person with the surprisingly wide eyes was all the responsibility I could handle. And even that was frightening some times, when I worried if I knew what I was doing, whether I was choosing correctly, whether my mom instincts were enough to keep him safe as he grew into the remarkable person I knew he was.

No, back then it was enough to hold him close and watch William Shatner overact in Star Trek.

"See, little man? This is fun stuff. You're going to like it."

He does.

Another Year on the Ball

It's my birthday. It's my daughter's birthday, too, which I think is very cool. Not sure if she agrees or just placates me to be a good sport.

It's been another roller coaster year - trips to the ER, recoveries, symptoms of work burnout, awards. I've been here more than half a century now. I still don't have it figured out. But I have noticed one thing - changes, problems, miracles; they all come in groups.

If life is suddenly unbearable, you can be sure that whatever's bothering you is about to be complicated by even more stuff that makes you wonder why you were complaining before.

If you're in flux, just wait. That flux will morph into chaos in a blink and what was a small knot in your life will become a major tangle.

But the universe is even-handed. If something wonderful happens, be prepared for a wave of unbelievable and mind-blowing companion events.

What's that all about, anyway? Is it an example of quantum physics...energy accumulating and drawing even more similar energy? If you're religious, is it your deity either answering your prayers in abundance or testing your faith? Is it coincidence? That last seems least likely to me. I'm buying the first.

That quantum stuff is tricky - whatever you put energy into, whatever you concentrate on, is what you get. No value, no judgement. You put it out there, the universe makes sure you get it. So when life has you down and you're lying on the floor, just waiting for the anvil to drop from the sky, the universe will oblige. And knowing that doesn't make it any easier to stop expecting that anvil.

When blessings rain down and you're dizzy with gratitude, you're wide open to receive even more. Anything is possible.

But that quantum stuff puts it all directly in our control. We create our reality. I have to admit that I'm sometimes not pleased with what I create.

So I guess I have to figure out how to let go of the value judgements, be a little more Buddhist about it - it just is. It's not good, it's not bad, it'll change...it just IS right now.

I'm dealing with a little of the good and a little of the bad at the moment, probably a good balanced place from which to consider.

Happy birthday to me - another year to work on it.