My cat Abby is a very picky eater. I have to keep changing up her food. This morning I found a plateful of rejected tuna with prawns, one of her favorites, that was left uneaten from last night. I brought out a can of tuna with gravy for her breakfast and she gobbled it down. Every once in a while she needs gravy. I know the feeling well. COMFORT FOOD MEMORIES I have struggled with food issues and weight my whole life. Yesterday I needed Chicken Pot Pie. This was one of my favorite childhood comfort foods. My entire family loved it. Mom was particularly happy because she didn't have to prepare a whole meal but she was a big fan of the gravy laden treat too. It really is just piecrust with a few pieces of chicken, a random carrot or two, and a couple of green peas, floating around in gravy. I can picture my family sitting around the kitchen table. We had assigned places; my sister Sue and Mom sat on one side, my twin sister Linda and I on the other side, and Dad on the end. Everyone had their own technique for eating chicken pot pie. I still eat mine the way I did as a kid, plopped upside down on my plate. I cut away and eat the edge of the crust first, and then smash up the rest so the crust mixes in with everything else. That ritual is every bit as satisfying as the pie itself. EATING OVER FEELINGS So why did I need comfort food yesterday? I was feeling less than, as in less than someone or something else. You would think that at 75 I would have had enough positive experiences in life to make me immune to the feelings I had when I was a kid; but no, I am still vulnerable to negative self judgements. I question why I didn’t do or say something in a different way, as if I had any control when I am in the moment and acting on auto-pilot. I doubt that I am going to have any luck changing those deep seated feelings. A more important question is why I think food is going to make me feel better? I know I am not the only person on the planet who turns to comfort food. In my case the memory of my family sitting down together at the kitchen table is a big factor. Food was an expression of love and something we shared as a family. By the time I was in junior high, we were eating on TV trays in the living room, watching the news. Family dinners were not the same no matter what we were actually eating. FINDING REAL COMFORT I knew when I was eating the chicken pot pie that I was looking for something I wasn’t going to find in a sea of gravy. I am the only one left of the family of five that used to sit together at the kitchen table. The reality is that a lot of the self critics in my head, that bring up the feelings I have of being less than, were forged in that family too; but I miss being able to pick up the phone and share my latest adventure with my sisters. I miss dropping by to visit my Mom and Dad at their apartment and I miss going for walks with my Dad. Where CAN I find comfort? I reached out to a special friend and spent an hour on the phone restoring my self confidence with the help of her love and understanding. I found comfort in my garden, where the distraction of digging and weeding always gives me a different perspective. I wrote this blog. Writing always takes me on a different path, that I can’t find in the kitchen staring into the open refrigerator. I know that for me, the best way to find comfort is to do the things that feed my soul in a way no comfort food can.
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The local senior center recently sponsored a 1960’s themed dance for people 60+. I am definitely over 60 so I went. Just getting ready for the dance was a walk down memory lane, or maybe more like a painful stroll through the past. THE 1960’s LOOK I opted to go with the late 60’s hippy look for the dance, even though my go-to outfit in the 1960’s was a wool skirt and sweater. The skirts were knee length while I was in high school but they got shorter and shorter after I graduated in 1966. There was no way I was going to put a mini skirt on my 75 year old body, so I settled for jeans and an ethnic tunic top with a headband of fake flowers for the required “flowers in my hair” effect. The irony is that I never really embraced the hippy look during the actual days of peace and love. THE 1970’s LOOK Although the rest of the world had moved on into the Age of Aquarius by the late 60’s, I didn’t really encounter the full on hippy culture until I moved to California, after getting married. I was still wearing mini skirts and strappy shoes with chunky heels, and then BOOM, I found myself surrounded by bedraggled people with really long hair. My former husband, who I met while he was serving in the air force in my home town, went from a clean cut guy in polo shirts to a hippy - in about a week. It took me a little longer to ease into the scene. He was a native Californian back in his home territory. I was a Minnesota transplant trying to fit in, and the hippy life style was never a good fit for me. As it turns out, neither was my marriage. LIFE IS A DANCE I loved going to dances when I was in high school. We didn’t have them very often and we dressed up for them when we did. I wore the same pair of low heeled pumps for every dance, changing the color to match my dress (that I sewed myself), by painting them with this stuff made especially to use on shoes. My high school boyfriend was a great dancer and, because I had the same boyfriend for the entire three years, I didn’t experience a lot of the angst involved in hoping to be asked to dance. Angst, however, was just waiting in the wings for future demoralization. Older but not wiser after my divorce, I experimented with going to dances as an adult. I had minimal skills at mingling and spent a lot of time sitting on the sidelines waiting for who knows what. I have a wonderful friend who shared some of these learning experiences. We went to singles dances together in the 1990’s. The best parts were the anticipation, deciding what to wear and comparing strategies for surviving a dance at 40+, and the after dance debriefing where we shared our disappointments and occasional successes. I spent a lot of time in the bathroom meditating. AFTER 60 AND BEYOND Somewhere between 40 and 60 I retired from dances as well as my job as a teacher. I found other ways to experience disappointment and success. Retirement has opened my world to new ways of thinking about what I want to do with my life. Yes, I enjoy puttering around my cozy home and interacting with my cat, but I am less worried and fearful than I was when my friend and I explored the painful rituals of middle aged singles dances. I am more likely to do risky things. When I saw the notice about a 1960’s dance for people who had actually lived through the 60’s, I decided to give it a try. What did I learn at this most recent trip back into the world of dances? I discovered that my dance skills have deteriorated quite a bit and the best I can do is shuffle awkwardly in time to the music. I enjoyed mingling more than I did at the dances in the 1990’s. It was fun to be with a bunch of oldsters like me having a good time. Many of them could actually still dance up a storm. But the volume of the band made actual conversations very limited, especially since my hearing has deteriorated along with my dance moves. Just like life, the dance had its ups and downs. I found that, despite the fact that everyone at the dance was a senior, there is a noticeable difference between being 60 and being 75. A lot can happen physically in 15 years and all of it has happened to me; but I am not interested in being 60 again. Despite the fact that I can’t dance the way I did in the past, I finally feel older and wiser. It was good to look back but I want to keep going forward, one day at a time. I am Going to a 1960’s DanceEvidently going to a senior speed dating event wasn’t enough of a challenge for me. I signed up for a 1960’s dance at the local senior center. I don’t seem to be able to stop my finger from pushing the registration button. Why do I keep doing this?
WILL THE REAL LESLIE PLEASE STAND UP I wish I could say I’m just ready to get out there and mingle, but I don’t really feel ready. It seems a little drastic to go from a little old lady who gets her entertainment sitting in her recliner watching British mysteries on TV, to speed dating and dances. It’s weird to think that there is an unfamiliar part of me clamoring to get out and do things I haven’t done for a really long time. BUNGEE JUMPING I have an image in my head of bungee jumping. I would never actually do anything that crazy, but I use it as a reference for taking risks. I say to myself, “This is scary, but it’s not like I’m going to go bungee jumping.” In other words, it does not have the potential to kill me. In fact, not only will I not die going to a dance (unless I get run over by a car on my way there), I could end up with that amazing feeling I had when I went river rafting on class five rapids in my younger days. I will feel very alive. Wow, that really is it! I will feel alive. I have spent a lot of time worrying about things I thought would kill me, physically and psychologically, instead of jumping into life. I thought I was just cautious. It was my friends who happily dragged me along on that river rafting trip. I never would have done it otherwise. No wonder I am feeling driven to get out and do new things and make new connections. There is a big part of me that wants to feel alive. I HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR BUT FEAR ITSELF The idea of a 1960’s dance is also bringing up other memories. In 1960 I started junior high school and in 1966 I graduated from high school. I spent the rest of the 60’s going to college. It was a special time for me. I remember being confused about life but feeling confidant and successful as a student. I thought I knew who I was until the 60’s were followed by the 70’s and adulthood attacked. I moved to California, got married and divorced, and started my teaching career. Being fearful and cautious about all the new things I had to deal with was my go-to survival mechanism. I am not that woman any more. I need adventure in my life and I know this dance will be one. I look forward to writing about it. Who knows what soul-searching realizations will pop up. “It’s not like I’m going to go bungee jumping,” but it will be inspiring blog material for sure. Whether you get your news from a newspaper, online, or by watching CNN, I suspect you, like me, are sick and tired of seeing another devastating headline. War! Floods! Murder! Indictments! HEADLINES TO LIVE BY At a recent gathering with friends who do art, one of the fellow artists suggested that rather than expose ourselves to the trauma of the daily news, we can make up our own headlines. She shared a story about an 87 year old man who deals with life’s stresses by writing his own headlines: “Husband Loves Wife Today” “Family Drops Everything to Come to Grandma’s Bedside” “Old Man Makes New Friend” I love the idea and instantly recognized it as great blog material. What would a little old lady with cats headline say? How would my ordinary life look if it was splashed across the front page of a newspaper or scrolling along the bottom of a TV news report? What a great way to celebrate the good things in life or even just acknowledge the mundane frustrations and triumphs of my day. HERE ARE MY HEADLINES: Seventy-Five and Still Alive Septuagenarian Embraces Title Despite Difficultly Spelling It Ancient Artifact Found in Bathroom Drawer Woman Locates Comb Missing for Centuries Weeding Yard Increases Endurance Elderly Gardener Touts Spring Exercise Routine She Was Only Napping Missing Senior Found Safe and Relaxed in Her Parked Car Cat Escapes Cat-proof Yard - Again Tortie Proves Intelligence of Cats is Superior to Humans AN ARTICLE TO MATCH I wrote an article to go with the cat headline. Keep in mind that, like some actual news, alternative facts may have been included. A two-year old tortie has set a new record after escaping from a fenced yard more than 100 times. Her owner, a retired teacher and sometime blogger, reacted to this latest episode with a shrug and a sigh. “Abby outsmarts me on a daily basis,” she commented begrudgingly. The cat’s techniques for escape are being studied by the CIA for potential use in international espionage. Her unique approaches to thwarting a cat-proof fence have included modern computer technology and circus acrobatics. The expectation is that this will not be her last attempt and the potential for breaking her own record is high. WRITE YOUR OWN HEADLINES! I invite you to share your own headlines in the comments. I would love to see what makes your day! Not Invisable Anymore
BLENDING IN I don’t stand out in a crowd and not just because I am short. I feel most comfortable when I blend in. I usually avoid doing things that might get noticed. However, lately I have been putting myself out in the world in ways I never imagined I would be capable of doing. VISIBILITY THROUGH BLOGGING It began years ago when I started writing my blog. It’s not possible to be shy and retiring while sharing your fears and foibles on the internet. Knowing that there were probably only a handful of people reading my blog made me feel less self-conscious. As time went on I became less guarded about what I was writing. My blogs morphed from stories about buying shoes online to sharing about the deep impact of grief and loss on my life. It was the people in my grief support group who encouraged me to publish my writing in a book, and that book was a big step in making the parts of myself that I usually hide from the world more visible. This week my book went on the shelf of a local bookstore. I decided to take advantage of their consignment program for local authors with the hope of giving my book more exposure. You would think that the word “exposure” would not feel overwhelming for a woman whose book is titled Naked Little Old Lady with Cats, but it does. Most of the people who bought my book online know who I am. Now I am actively seeking readers who will only know me through my writing. That is a bit daunting. When I retired, after 34 years of teaching junior high students, I pictured myself disappearing into my senior years, lounging with a cat in my lap and puttering in my garden. Instead I started writing a blog, which then became a book. The process of publishing has been every bit as adventuresome as trekking the Amazon jungles, except my jungle is amazon.com. I hacked away at the challenges of KDP self publishing and emerged with my book on a shelf in a bookstore along with other local authors. I tackled the fear of being clueless about what self publishing was all about - but now I have new fears. FEAR OF BEING VISABLE These new fears are actually old fears that fall under the heading: What Will People Think? They are the fears that drove my desire to stay anonymous and invisible. What will people think when they read about the intimate details of my life as a naked little old lady with cats? There is also a fear of failure lurking in the depths of my chest. What if my book just sits there on the shelf and nobody buys it? Basically I am afraid of what people will think if they do read my book, and at the same time afraid no one will read it. Just writing about this makes me aware of how ridiculous my fears are. I didn’t set out to write the great American novel. I wanted to make something I could give to my friends and family for Christmas. The fact that someone besides the people I know might read it is an extra bonus, not a reason to be afraid of being seen in the world. Besides being a gift to the people I love, my book has been a gift to myself. It was an exercise in tenacity and an opportunity to learn something new. I had no idea when I started that it would take nine months to put together a collection of stuff I had already written, but I did it. Yay me! I actually did it! NO LONGER AN INVISABLE WOMAN Probably the biggest gift to myself is that I discovered I am actually a writer. I see myself as many things: a teacher, an artist, a little old lady with cats. I never saw myself as a writer, although I always liked to write. Writing is a door to my soul. Publishing my writing gave me an opportunity to be seen in a way that is scary and wonderful at the same time. It has given me the confidence to do things (like speed dating!) I would have been afraid to do in the past. Now I just look at new adventures as great blogging material. |
Leslie Masona woman in search of her post-retirement future Guess what! By subscribing, you get notices about the latest Little Old Lady with Cats posts sent to your mailbox!
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WHAT IS A LITTLE OLD LADY WITH CATS - REALLY?
(from an entry posted on 5/1/2015) “I definitely fit some of the characteristics of a little old lady with cats: Retired - check, Single - check, Like to knit - check, Have cats - check. . .I do not want to get stuck in my Little Old Lady persona, however. In fact, this blog is a risk taking experiment in exploring and redefining what I want my retired life to look like.” Categories
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