Life Is Fiction

Fiction is one of my favorite reading choices. Contrary to some opinions, it is fodder for the intelligent as well. Fiction writers that I enjoy are avid researchers about what they write. They know the history, the science and the social stats before they put pen to paper. At least those that I most enjoy have earned my respect. Lately, though, reading the news which I prefer to listening to, rather than the droning "radio announcer" voices, I wonder if what I read, isn't fiction. The bizarre encounters that are happening in our Western World are becoming akin to tapping into a nightly fictional series on TV streaming.  People shooting randomly at targets of various kinds with bullets flying around and often hitting innocent people are not uncommon reports.  Robberies, muggings and stabbings happen daily not only on city streets, but in remote and  rural areas, too. People die frozen where they lie, in homeless shelters because the buildings that are offered to care for them, are told they don't have overhead sprinklers. Regulation has become a monster that works beyond humane efforts. Certain elected officials dictate where pipelines will go, where mines can be located, where housing will take place and who will do it while we, the tax payer population peers, read in in the news where our money is going. Huh?  Our votes are worn like pretty pendants that we put on some,  but ones can't remove or shine up. How often do you and I ask ourselves, "what in the world is going on - am I dreaming?" I feel as though I am walking in fiction in my everyday life. Perhaps, you too, before going out on the street to shop or visit, wonder if you will be safe after reading about the stabbing of a fellow sidewalker, or a dog that dies due to a substance someone dropped on the dogpark grass or that an innocent person is mistaken as a criminal and man-handled and handcuffed, or that criminals out for a nice day leave commit further crimes. It's becoming normal and normal seems like fiction to me at times.  No wonder parents don't want their kids out beyond their eyesight. Or am I seeing it all wrongly? 

Chat Line: A Joke

 No, this isn't an old fogey joke. (They always make me wonder, constantly, why we elders make fun of ourselves and then expect to be respected. Stop the old folk jokes. Old age is not funny, it's simply natural,) Anyway, The Chat Line thing down in the corner that most of you have met, is actually useless because we are led to think we are speaking to a human who can solve our problem. What?  Of late, I had trouble with a famous delivery company because I did not give them my cell phone number for their, not my, security. I can't see why I have to do it their way. I don't use my cell phone unless I am going out and that is for my security only. Otherwise, I pay a lot for the thing and it sits around charged and costing me money. Why do I want to carry around a cell phone all day long? I don't need to be in constant touch with friends or relatives. I have a life. They have a life. I have a land line that serves me perfectly. I decided I don't really need to have an account with this famous delivery company but investigated beforehand, to see what would happen if I cancelled. Plenty! This company has big muscles. Quitting it, quits a lot more than you might think. I am forced to continue with it.  I got over the angry feeling that I am now a slave to a company and a machine, and learned also, that I can't "fight city hall". The fight is a losing battle because I am not dealing with a human. I tried fighting  a powerful machine company and the two of us don't speak the same language. To win the battle with this company, I was forced to impart my cell phone number to them. Like it or not. They have the power in this world. I feel enslaved more and more by the demands of a technological world, even though it interferes with my personal life. If I try to live outside of that realm, I am lost. I need delivery because I am not  mobile but I am trusting and trustworthy. I am, however, losing that independence gradually, in this world,  and handing it to forces that are electronic machines. I can't "fight city hall", namely it. Science fiction is now reality.

Do You, Not Hero

 Heard on the airwaves this morning, another superage superhero lauding his advice on living to one hundred plus. Run, ski, skate, gym, blah blah. For him, okay, for most of us, likely not. He said to stop babying oneself and doing such as hanging onto rails and cupboard edges etc for support. Don't take that advice and also don't think you have to do heavy exercises that make you ache. Pain is not gain for elders. It could be a warning to stop doing what you're doing. Your body is wearing out, let's face it. Treat it kindly and be patient, not a patient. What works for some, doesn't for others. My advice is "listen to your body". What mean symptoms it tells you, mean something to ponder. You don't have to run off to the doctor's office, start with what you have been up to lately. It could be eating too much of something that isn't working for you including dosing yourself up with a bunch of bottled vitamins that promise what could be a problem instead of a cure. Pushing an elder body too hard might end  up in a place you don't want to be. And running off to take a pain pill or hang out whinging at the doctor's office isn't the best place to start. Think first, and act next. Aging can begin a lot earlier than you think. Stressing your body and mind are never good. I believe that it all starts with the mind. Take time to find a quiet place to have a nice warm chat with your body, to relax and be honest and pay attention to the good sense of knowing that you aren't someone else whom you admire and who can achieve what might not be your answer. I do believe in eating foods as close to fresh as possible and as truly nourishing. You can count on relaxing in meditative periods, however short; in getting as much sleep at any time of the day that works; in moving muscles and stretching and some lifting to tone up. Couple of soup tins work as well as gym weights and some dance music in the middle of your big room is wise fun. Socialize if you like it, be alone if that's for you. Get that mind going with games or reading or creative efforts. Aging isn't an illness and you aren't ill due to your age. Take it easy and make it fun your way to go on and on. And on.

What's In A Life?

 When are we humans going to stop trying to be the smartest, best looking,  fastest, the tallest, the... anything we dream up as goals? We weren't made for that. We try too hard and find unhappiness. Most of my acquaintances who ran for miles a day, went to the gym five  times a week, took on diets, studied for marks all night, grabbed the most money and so on: all, without a one, suffered for it in some way. Today at ninety, I see them with surgery scars, still bent over or limping or too fat or mindless but who spent half their lives trying to avoid just that. I guess I am the bad example. Sure, I tried all those things but it didn't take long before I became bored, or hungry or achy or headachy or not Type A enough to make it to the "best" category. I am average and I am healthy at this age, with a good brain, ears, eyes, stomach and don't take a load of pills for my heart, muscles, bones, head or  nerves. That makes me pretty boring, but wowie I am happy and secure, not rich enough to worry about money and best of all happy even though most of my people are gone including my only child and husband, the love of my life. How did I do it? Just lived day by day and kept away from stress and nastiness around me that I stepped over and forgot. I loved as much as I could, once in a blue moon hated for a bit but forgave, adored and respect nature for all that it gives. I don't protest or agonize or worry or fret or yell or bawl or whine or talk about anything that isn't good. I live day to day and love as much as I can just about everything. My time is almost up. I achieved all I needed and am left with genetics that will go on loved very much. My genetics are given with great appreciation and I don't and never did need accolades or rewards or medals. Life simply happened and that's all okay. It's called a good life. All we need. 

Broke ? Really

 Far too often lately, I hear complaints of being financially drained by those folks, when I am looking at their fake eyebrows, gel  nails, mani/pedi addictions and coffee bar drinks. It's hard to feel empathetic seeing those used to these luxuries, telling me about how difficult their times are. Others, the wise ones, say they are avoiding implulse purchases or damping down their usual high cost grocery items for ones, just as nutritious that are not as the top grades. Cutting back is hard to do but also an interesting project that whole families can practice. Why not get the kids involved in the effort? They partake of family funds and should, therefore, learn this skill. Maybe instead of the packaged treats they find in their easy pack lunches, an apple will appear, not those cute cheese sticks with pretty little crackers. Cheese and crackers are easy enough for them to make up themselves. Put out the workings and make a bunch for the whole week. Great weekend job.  Dessert doesn't have to be a chocolatey nutty wrapped bar but a cookie instead. And why aren't kids involved in making their own lunches. They with guidance can chop up veggies maybe with a peanut butter/honey  dip. Mom's need to stop being miracle women and get down to showing kids how to become responsible adults. Clothing purchase doesn't need to start with popular labels. If your child thinks that big labels mean big popularity, a discussion is called for. Parents need to get together and decide to make that change so that no kid suffers embarrassment. Some of my near and dears, are now going to second hand stores to enjoy the fun of searching out perfectly good clothing.  It's in fashion to do so. Let that be known. Having a family bread baking session or meal grids where there might be a competition amongst family members of making a nourishing meal that is cheaper to put together but that is just as nutritious. At the cost of fuel, driving kids two blocks to school is outrageous. Walk with them if you must and the business of driving the family here there and everywhere all week should be pared down. That wastes. These moves will also prepare your offspring about caring for themselves when their school days are over and they have to face the world at large. 

Soft Sculpture

 Soft sculpture appreciation is generally regarded as only something the very young and the very old, know. I am in the old category with no shame about it and I am renewing my love of soft sculptures. The young who once owned hoards of them and now replaced them with living pets, know all about these former soft friends. Like the jobless and workless elders, we know the value and joy of play and playfulness that the "other side", the serious workers, have forgotten or abandoned. Unfortunately, the world at large and at crisis, looks down on such as Teddy Bears and other stuffed "toys" as childish and sad. Too bad; their bad. Recently, I have come to enjoy the soft sculpture  world, not as a crutch in avoiding, as they say, "old age loneliness", but as true appreciation of its beauty. These things are intricately and finely made. If the King of England whose life is regulated, has a Teddy bear and he does, there must be something compelling about it all. When my husband was in hospice, the gift shop  had a large stuffed Black Labrador holding open their door. Daily I passed by seeing it standing solemnly there and one day bought it to take home with me to hug on bad days. That was sixteen years ago, and I have him still sitting under my kitchen bar chair.  He stares at me with his button eyes expressing something that changes and often startles both me and my visitors for a second.  Since then, I have bought one or two other  soft sculptures just for the fun of having them peek out from tiny places. My three foot tall spotted giraffe that stands beside the pile of bedroom tiger pillows has become quite a pal. The little cat that hangs bright eyed off the edge of a  book shelf is a quick smile, too. These "toys" are as valid as the ceramic china sculptures sitting on friends' tables. I am surprised at how well the softies are made and at the cheer they bring. Next time you see an old person with them, don't let your youngish uneducated mind on the truths of geriatrics, fool you. It's our secret to share. You might like to try one. Return and relax for a bit, back to your delightful childhood. It's okay. The world needs you and this.