Life in Reverse

I am behind in reading my O (Oprah) magazines.  I like them very much, but when a new issue arrives, I tend to read the “Contributors” page and one or two of the articles that really catch my attention and then the magazine gets hidden under other magazines, books or children’s toys and I forget about it.  Eventually my man adds the magazine to a stack in a basket where it sits for months.  Last week I gathered all those back issues with a pledge to read them ALL before the end of the year.  Today, I completed the February 2012 issue, in which there was an article named “You. . .In Six Words”.  This was the introduction:

“In November 2006, writer and editor Larry Smith issued a challenge to fans of his Web publication, SMITH Magazine. . .Smith asked his readers to describe their lives in six words.”

I thought, “That’s impossible!”  But, the article contained many examples that proved what I initially thought was impossible was, indeed, possible.   Here are some of the submissions in the article:

“Surfing life’s ripples, wishing for waves.” -------- Karen Barbier
“Might as well eat that cookie.” -------- Paula Deen
“I am more than a twin.” ------- Diane Campbell

I was inspired, but I am wordy.  How can I describe my life - 58 years of life - in six words, just six words?  Maybe 600, but six - I had my doubts, but I took the challenge.  

I started with individual words that I associate with myself until I identified an idea that captured my life as I view and define it right now.  In my head, the idea needed many more words than six, so I had to cut, trim and rearrange until I was left with a half dozen words.  Once I had the idea, the chopping block part was much easier than I expected and this was my final result:

Learning from living life in reverse.  

Recently, I considered how I am now, at the age of 58, undergoing so many experiences that most women have in their 20's or 30's, and when I was younger, I had experiences most don’t have until their later years.  I do, indeed, feel as though I am living life in reverse.

When I was a child and teenager, everyone thought I was at least 3 to 10 years older;  as an adult, people figure I am 10 to 15 years younger than my current age.  Living life in reverse.

My childhood home was in an rural area with only one other family with children within a mile.  All my other neighbors were adults 40 to 70 years old, and they were my companions.  On weekends, I rode my bike from house to house, sitting and talking with my older neighbors, playing board games with them, drinking lemonade, iced tea or hot chocolate, helping with their gardening and cooking.  At the age of 17, when friends my age were babysitting, I was working as a nurse’s assistant in a nursing home, surrounded by the elderly.  I felt more at ease with my patients than I did with most of my high school classmates.  During my child-bearing years, because my husband and I did not have children, we accepted the responsibility of looking after elderly parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles in our families.  When others our ages were changing diapers and planning play dates, we were picking up high blood pressure meds at pharmacies, sitting in hospital waiting rooms and taking garbage cans to the curb for those who could no longer do it.  It is just now that I am seeing people my age having those same experiences of elder-care.  Living life in reverse.

My parents were just shy of 40 when I was born and my mother died before reaching 40.  I experienced the death of a parent before I had a memory of that parent, but most people are in their 40's or 50's or even 60's before being forced to cope with the death of a mother or father. Living life in reverse.

In my late teens I experienced my first debilitating back injury.  During my 20's and most of my 30's, my activities were hampered by back pain.  At the age of 29, I sometimes walked with a cane to stabilize my spine.  At 58, my back feels stronger and I experience much less pain than I did 30 years ago.  Living life in reverse.

Most people my current age are resting after raising their children.  I did not have children and I adopted my daughter as a teenager, so I skipped the whole child-rearing experience, until now.  My daughter and her two small children have been living with me for more than two years and I am now having the experience of raising, well, helping to raise, small children.  I've changed more diapers in the last two years than I have in all my previous years combined.  I just had my premier tooth fairy experience when my grandson lost his first tooth this month.  For the first time, I am dropping off children at school in the morning and picking them up at after-school in the evening, telling bedtime stories, going to Christmas plays and planning birthday parties - all activities that most people experience before the age of 45.  Yes, I am a grandmother, but a grandmother learning to be a mother.  Living life in reverse.

While most couples in their early 50's begin making plans for their golden years of retirement, I was burying my husband (Yes, we were separated, but still married, when he passed) and figuring out how to make ends meet on one income.  Living life in reverse.

I owned my first home at the age of 21, and now, since the age of 50, I've been living in a rental house while most in my age group have paid off their mortgages.  Most people/couples search for their dream home during their 20's and 30's and it is now, at 58, that I have a goal of finding and acquiring my dream home - in Mount Dora, of course!  Living life in reverse.

General thinking says creativity is a product of the young, and most people I know experienced their strongest years of creativity before the age of 50, while I believe I am now entering the most creative phase of my life.  Living life in reverse.

With all of that said, my statement was actually “Learning from living life in reverse”.  What am I learning and why do my lessons come either earlier or later than those of others? That is the part I am still trying to figure out.  Although I did not realize it at the start of my Manifesting Mount Dora project, I now think one of the lessons of this journey is to discover why so many of my life experiences have occurred at non-traditional ages.

One lesson I can already identify is that age does not have to limit or define life.  Because of my association with older people in my younger years, I understand, respect and appreciate the age group I am entering.  Unlike many my age who feel their lives are almost ending, I don’t feel being over 50 has to limit who I am.  In fact, I believe I and my life are just getting better with each year that passes.  I may have slow down a little physically and tire a little more easily, but I meet these challenges and experiences that usually come at a younger age with all the energy I can muster and with a maturity and, I hope, wisdom that I did not possess years ago.  I appreciate the moments of surprise, tenderness, exhilaration and comfort in ways I could not in years pass.  The losses and disappointments and roadblocks in life are not as devastating as they once were and although I may be moving a little slower at this age, I pick myself up quicker than I did in my earlier years.

Living life in reverse does have its advantages and lessons.  I may be living a backwards life, but I am always moving forward.  

Miracle in the Night

It is a little after midnight as I write this.  About an hour ago, I was laying in bed, reading the last page of a book.  I closed the book, satisfied with the ending, and laid in my bed thinking of the story and feeling content and cozy.  Everyone in the house, but me, was asleep.  Silence engulfed me.  Even our neighborhood was unusually quiet for a Friday night.  I was ready to turn off my bedside light and go to sleep, but I couldn't. I sometimes experience insomnia, but that was not the case.  My eyes were drowsy and I was ready for a full night of sleep, but something was nagging me - this inexplicable feeling nudging me to get up and go outside.  Why?  I listened intently, but could not hear any worrisome sound and I could not remember any noise that my mind may have registered unconsciously as something of concern.  I breathed deeply - no smell of smoke or chemicals.   I could not identify a problem or a reason to leave the comfort of my bed, but still I felt compelled to go outside.

I tried to push the feeling aside.  I labeled it illogical, nonsensical, impractical and just plain silly, but it would not go away.  Finally, after ten minutes of unsuccessfully attempting to use logic to justify staying under my warm covers, I got up, through a sweater on over my pajamas, slipped on my sandals and tiptoed through the house so as not to wake up anyone with my silly nighttime prowl.  As slowly and quietly as possible, I opened the front door and ventured out into the dark, breezy coolness of this November night.

There were lights on in the three houses across the street, but no one and nothing stirred.  Other than some light traffic sounds from the busier corridor streets to the north and east of our neighborhood, I heard nothing.  I walked around my car and into the carport.  I looked around where our garbage can, recycling bins and charcoal grill are, but nothing was amiss. The plants that line the chest-high wall that makes up one side of the carport were all in place.  My wind chimes were still hanging in place and, since the nighttime breeze was coming from a different direction, they were silently motionless.

As I stood there feeling very cold and very foolish, I heard the soft grunting sounds that one of my rescue dogs makes.  I have two rescues, a 12 year-old mother and her 9 year-old daughter, who I’ve had for ten years and who live in our fenced backyard and sleep on our back porch.  I looked toward the back of the carport, which is separated from our backyard by a chain link fence, expecting to see mama dog standing there, wagging her tail and making her pig-like grunting sounds. But, even in the cloudy darkness, I could see she was not there.  And, yet, her distinctive guttural noises were very close.  I looked to my right and there she sat just inches from me!  What was she doing outside the fence?  How did she get out?  We have lived in this house for eight years and during the first two, when both dogs were much younger and much more spry, they escaped the backyard three times.  The fence is an old patchwork of different types of fencing and after each escape, we found and repaired another hole or gap we had missed the time before.  For six years, the two dogs had only left the backyard when they were leashed and ready to walk our neighborhood or to go to the vet’s office.

I reached down, petted mama dog and grasped her collar, concerned that she may run off.  Both dogs are skittish and easily frightened by loud noises, strange people and other dogs.  After two of the previous escapes, they ran off, scared and panicked, and were not found until hours later.  I did not want that to happen again.  With mama dog in hand, I turned my concern to daughter dog.  Did she escape too or was she still in the backyard?  Was she off running through the neighborhood or was she somewhere near by?  I called her name softly and she rounded the side of my car and joined her mother at my side.

I was so relieved to have them safely next to me and praised them for staying nearby and not leaving our property.  Since it was too dark to investigate the fence, I led the dogs into our Florida room, gave them dishes of water and made beds for them on the terrazzo floor, where they quickly curled up in search of sleep.  Tomorrow my man and I will find and repair the newest escape route in the fence, but, for now, the two dogs are safe, warm and comfortable in their temporary accommodations.

I cannot explain why I could not sleep or why I was nagged by a feeling that I must go outside.  Maybe an angel was whispering to me.  All I know is that if I had not followed that nudge to get up from my warm bed and go out into the chilly night, my dogs would likely be nowhere to be found come morning.

Perhaps this is not a huge miracle, but, to me, it is an amazing and inexplicable miracle, and I cannot help wondering why this experience came to me tonight.  Was it to urge me to be more aware of and to be more willing to follow my inner nudges and instincts?  Was it to teach me that there is always magic and magical happenings around me?  Was it to emphasize that the Universe/God/Source is always sending us helpful messages?  Was it to tell me that anything is possible and that I should practice more trust?  I believe it was for all these reasons and more.  This week, I was again feeling a little overwhelmed and concerned and Mount Dora and my dreams felt very far away.  Now, I feel like I am covered in magical dust and that anything, ANYTHING is possible.

Life is a Labyrinth

Nearly every month my man and I attend a crystal bowl concert/meditation at a local church.  Crystal bowls, also called singing bowls, are bowls of various sizes, but all larger than a typical dinner bowl, made of quartz crystal.  The quartz crystal is extremely resonant, producing lovely, harmonic sounds that you not only hear, but feel throughout your body.  The size and shape of a bowl determines its pitch.  Most bowls sit on the floor or on stands, but some are handheld, allowing the bowl musician to move around a room bringing the intense sounds close to those in attendance.  Crystal bowl concerts are performed for meditation purposes, to ease stress and to balance chakras.  Being present at a crystal bowl concert is a phenomenal experience.  The sounds are simultaneously soothing and vibrant.



At the concerts we attend, people choose to sit in the church seats or ample space is provided for people to lay down, often on yoga mats or blankets where they can rest, meditate and even sleep.  We both leave the monthly concerts feeling calm, centered and relaxed.  Once or twice a year, the church also has a labyrinth set up in the sanctuary.  The labyrinth is used as a walking meditation in conjunction with the crystal bowl concert.  Tonight’s concert included the labyrinth.

A labyrinth is an intricate design of paths that often flow in a circular pattern eventually leading to a center spot, much like a maze.  A walking meditation labyrinth may be a mat made of some sort of fabric that is placed on a large floor, such as a church sanctuary, or it can be a temporary design made of sand or stones in a courtyard.  People follow the paths of the labyrinth, while meditating or praying, until reaching the center where the participants often kneel or stand silently in prayer or meditation.  Sometimes the participants will follow the path from the center back out to the beginning of the labyrinth.  Tonight, as I followed the path of the labyrinth, I contemplated how those circular paths were so much like life.



I prefer linear paths.  Point A leads to Point B in a nice straight line, no detours, no curves, no surprises.  But, life is not linear.  From time to time, we may feel as if we are moving on a straight line, but rarely does that experience last for long.  Life has a way of taking our straight lines and making them elaborate circles, twisting and turning and coming back around as if starting at the beginning again.  Life is a labyrinth.

As I was walking the circular paths tonight, I noticed that a man who started the labyrinth several minutes ahead of me was often walking on a path just inches from my side and the woman who started the walking meditation just seconds in front of me was often on the other side of the labyrinth, as if she had begun long before me or long after me.  Isn't that the way our lives are?  We start off with people, like a sibling, a friend, a partner or spouse, a classmate or a fellow worker, just a little ahead of us or just slightly behind, but as we travel our paths we appear to go in different directions even when traveling the same route.  We are sometimes side-by-side and sometimes distances apart.  At times we may appear to be on a completely different road and other times we nearly bump into each other along our travels.

I noticed that some of the people walking the labyrinth took small, slow steps, while others walked a little faster.  Some paused often to contemplate, while others never stopped until reaching the center.  In life, I've noticed the same.  I started off on the same path as others in my life, but some us often took lengthy pauses and others seemed to rarely pause for more than a moment. Some moved forward slowly, while others reached their goals more quickly.  Some walk softly, some with more determination and some nearly danced.

But, no matter who walks the labyrinth or the journey of life, we each have a circular path.  No one’s journey is a straight line for very long.  Life takes curves.  We are moving straight ahead toward a goal and then there is a curve - one we may have seen coming or one that  takes us by surprise.  The curve turns us back around until we feel like we are starting over, though we never are because we are always moving forward.  Maybe you experience a curve on your path to a career or an educational goal and you find yourself pausing to have a family, to care for someone in need, to grieve a loss, to deal with an illness or a problem, or just to relax, rejuvenate and regroup.  Eventually, you will get around the curve and start in a straight line again, although the goal you are seeking may have changed during the pause.

Life is fits and starts and slow downs and forward races.  It is steady ahead and watch out around the curve.  It is this way, then that way and then back around again.  But, no matter what, life is always forward motion, even when it feels like its not.

Tonight, I noticed that I often appeared to be further from the center of the labyrinth when I was actually nearest and I sometimes was right by the center, just inches away, but I actually had a long way to go on the path until I would truly reach the center.  Life, too, can trick us with illusions.  Our goal may seem terribly far away when the distance to get there is really short or our goal may seem right there, just in front, inches from our noses when, in actuality, our journey has just begun.

This weekend, Mount Dora felt very far away.  I felt like I may never reach my goal of living there and, truthfully, I may not.  I have no idea where my feet are on that journey.  Maybe I am close or maybe not.  Maybe I will reach that goal of living in Mount Dora or maybe I will head around a curve, slow down and realize I was never actually headed there in the first place.  Maybe Mount Dora with be along my path, but I doubt if it will be the final destination of my path.  I will keep circling around, sometimes, moving slow, sometimes speeding up.  I will take the turns and the pauses and sometimes feel like forward motion has stopped.  Then, I will hit a long, straight stretch and the wind will blow through my hair as I race forward feeling triumphant in my progress.  But, no matter how or where I travel, whether the road is straight or curvy, whether my feet are plodding slowly, dancing lightly or racing with the wind at my back, I will make my journey, as you will also, one step at a time, just one step at a time.  

Expectations and Disappointments

I knew Manifesting Mount Dora would be a learning experience for me.  This quest was not just about manifesting soemthing I want, but also about finding answers (or no answers) to questions, seeking enlightenment, embracing change and discerning what really matters.  I have blogged about many lessons that have come my way during the past almost-eight-months and, although I have yet to manifest Mount Dora, I have learned much on this journey and this past weekend presented another learning opportunity. 

Recently, I read "The Four Agreements" by Don Miguel Ruiz. Based on native Toltec beliefs, Ruiz teaches about four "agreements" that make life easier and more peaceful.  The agreements are:

Be impeccable with your word
Don't take anything personally
Don't make assumptions
Always do your best

In spite of their simplicity, the agreements are difficult to practice.  Most of us value honesty, but often forget that when we fail to live up to our word, we are are being dishonest.  Most of us make promises without a lot of thought.  I know I am often guilty of wanting so badly to please others, wanting to help out, that I am quick to make a promise without thinking it through.  Do I really have the time or the money to fulfill the promise?  Do I really want to do what I said I would do?  Will the promise create a burden for me?  Should I take on another responsibility right now?  Will fulfilling this promise mean that I must renege on another earlier made promise?

Probably I have the most difficulty with the second and third agreements.  I tend to take everything personally and I make major assumptions, resulting in hurt feelings, misunderstandings and deep disappointments.  Probably, the fourth agreement is the easiest for me as I focus on doing my best whenever I tackle a job. 

My lesson this weekend dealt with my most difficult agreements - don't take anything personally and don't make assumptions.  My birthday is this week. Awhile ago, I made a birthday request of someone, whom I will call "X". I did not ask X for a "thing", but for something X would have to do that would involve others who would also benefit from my gift. X agreed and plans were made.

This past weekend I asked to add one more person to the list of participants and X protested vigorously.  Considering the extra person would require no extra work and is a relatively quiet, pleasant person, I was surprised by X’s negative reaction. I stood my ground and insisted until X relented. 

Later, I was thinking about why X protested the inclusion of that person and although I could not think of a truly good reason, I felt a swirl of negativity around the whole incidence that made me uncomfortable in a way and for a reason I could not identify. My thoughts were waylaid by other activities until later in the day when I noticed X was moody and seemed annoyed. When I pressed for a reason, X went off on a rant about others who would be at the event. X was not complaining about these people participating, but was being critical about other issues regarding them which were not related to my birthday. I disagreed completely with what X was saying and certainly with the way it was being said. In my mind, X was being judgmental without knowing all the facts, but it was very apparent that X had strong feelings, wrongly or rightly.

As I was tending to some chores, I had time to contemplate the two exchanges with X. I realized that the original gift request put X in an difficult position. Had X refused, I would have been hurt. X agreed in an attempt to make me happy and I know X’s intentions were good.  Unfortunately, X was not able to contain negative feelings for others participating in the event and I was hurt by X’s declamation. Ideally, X would have agreed to the event and then would have withheld any negative comments about the attendees until the event was over, but that is not what occurred. I also realized that some of the attendees may have some negative feelings toward X, but, due to their feelings for me, they agreed to participate. Unintentionally, I had created a toxic event for my own birthday.

I broke two of the agreements. I made assumptions that X wanted to do what I requested and that X and the other participants could put aside any negative feelings for one another to make the event successful. Although I am sure the event would have been a success, I had no right to make those assumptions about others. I also had no right to put anyone in a situation where he or she may have felt uncomfortable or resentful. And finally, I let my personal feelings get all mixed up in the situation, something I am very inclined to do. I took X’s unwillingness to include the additional person and X’s verbal explosion personally. My feelings were hurt by statements and words that were not about me.

I chose to cancel the event because it no longer felt "right". There was too much negativity surrounding it. I was not angry nor disappointed because I accepted responsibility for creating an unhealthy situation. That does not mean I agree with X’s rants or attitude, but I accept that X’s feelings are just as real as mine. Perhaps X’s behavior could have been better, but so could have mine. I certainly could have been more sensitive to everyone else’s feelings.

By cancelling the toxic event, a space was created for those who had accepted my previous invitation to plan a new event that was held last night and was a tremendous success. X did not participate, I believe, out of confusion about the whole chain of events. I tried to explain my choice to cancel the original event, but X just did not understand. I felt a little sad that X was not at last night’s event, but I also knew it was the best result for all. And, now X has the opportunity to plan something else for my birthday, if X is so inclined.

In hindsight, I realize I often create toxic situations that leave me disappointed and hurt.  I want everyone I know and love to be together and I want them all to love, or at least respect and like, one another.  Sadly, that is not always the case and, since I am not in charge of everyone else's feelings, I need to accept how they feel and not take their attitudes towards and opinions of others personally.   If I go forward with expectations that rely on the actions of others, I am sure to be disappointed and others may be also. This weekend I learned that if I am forcing something, it probably should not happen.  If I let it go, something better is created in its place.