I have never experienced boredom.

At any given moment I am consumed with countless ideas and thoughts of things I want to do. Everywhere I look I see inspiration , THAT… is my problem… (one of them). Add in the “have to do‘s, “ and There is no possibility of boredom.

The feelings that come from too many options usually paralyze me and wrap me up in a self-induced maddening dilemma where I then CAN’T make any choice at all.

The best way to try and explain the feeling , is to compare it to being “hangry”. That feeling of being so hungry you know you HAVE to eat but you are too hungry to decide WHAT to eat. That feeling .

What I usually end up doing is stalling the decision while busying myself with the endless “have to do’s” ( like cleaning a home with four animals in it) and I never make my way back to choosing a “want to do”.

So …..

the other day it occurred to me that I could take the decision making process off of my own shoulders.

I could try an OLD SCHOOL idea.

Drawing from a hat.

I pulled out my crumpled and dirtied old, straw, garden hat and I wrote down about 10 options of “ want to do’s” on small strips of paper, strategically making sure they were the same size and folded exactly the same way of course so that I couldn’t possibly cheat myself.

before I drew, I promised myself that I would follow through… something that is very difficult for me if It’s something for myself.

Of course No one Would know if I didn’t follow through… but a promise is a promise.

My options included painting, drawing, RESTING (lol) , reading, writing, dancing, yoga, etc. all enjoyable, recharging , self-care practices that I still don’t create time for.

And…

I drew “Paint”

Which … of course….

is really the main thing I want to do.

No surprise! Just a good knowing laugh to myself that if I step out of my own way, the powers that be , or whatever you want to call it , will deliver. At which point it’s my job to recognize, listen… And yes ….

follow through.

So… I did.

Only after I briefly tried to talk myself out of it…

Self sabotage is always a force to be reckoned with…

but I did.

And I enjoyed it.

And simply by taking the pressure of “the choice “out of the process , I developed a new technique in managing this overstimulating , too much world that this HSP ( Highly Sensitive Person… it’s a real thing) introvert has to navigate through and I accomplished something I wanted to do.

Old school for the win.

HSP OUT.

So~

I was channeling my Grandmother the other day…

do you ever do that?

Feel your loved ones from the other side with you? Within you? I do all the time. Especially her.

My Beautiful Grandmother, imperfect like us all… but to me the earthly manifestation of loveliness.

My Parents were from completely different worlds growing up.  My mother was raised by a first generation Italian American who grew up in Connecticut in settlement houses , shining shoes , serving in the war , and making his way through college with the hard-earned money of his siblings, to become a social worker.  His wife ( my Grammie)  came from Illinois,  born to her mother as a late in life surprise and adored by her much older siblings. She became a nurse and in addition to raising their 5 children in the 1940’s and 50’s, also fostered babies , oftentimes with special needs or “ colored” babies, which did not go over too well in their time and town.  They were liberal democrats.

My father grew up on the Eastern shore of Maryland for the most part. His father after serving  in the war, returned to the small town of Pokomoke , married my Grandmother , had 3 Children (2 boys and a girl) and lived their lives in a very old-fashioned, proper, southern way. Grandpa worked and Grandma,  along with their loved “help” Hennie, raised the children and maintained a beautiful home. They were southern conservatives.

This is what I know. I am certain there is far more to the story… but this is what I know.

After 8 years together my parent’s  differences could not be worked out… and I’ll leave that there.

My Mother moved us to California where her parents had retired, and I rarely saw my father or his family again until I was an adult, at which time I reconnected with then.

I deeply, deeply love all of my family… on both sides… but the connection with my father’s mother has always been different. She has been accused of “playing favorites” over the years and I understand how hurtful that can feel if not one… But what it was …     I think…  was not favoritism … rather connection.  An innate connection to certain people. Some people we just recognize, relate to easier, understand more .  We just know each other.  Especially with relatives because of  the genetics.   We are literally a part of them.

She and I shared many common interests and traits even though I was not raised with her influence. The love of Gardening, history and reading. Her home was always beautiful decorated in an understated sort of elegance. Her style was simple and lovely. Her go to outfit was always a crisp blouse a pair of blue jeans and white tennies. When she dressed up , a simple pencil skirt and another blouse and pumps.

I think of her when I dress up, when I am in my Garden, when I walk into an antique shop, when I smell boxwood.   I talk to her and ask for her guidance in a lot of things.  And I wear her perfume when I need a little extra love. Because with her… I always fealt accepted and loved.  There are many people who come and go from our lives that challenge and teach us and help us to grow… but everybody needs someone to make them feel accepted and loved just by being themselves, and she was that to me.

Last November, my sweet husband … another one who makes me feel loved always… showed up in the middle of the day … and called to me to come outside.   He had taken her bike, given to me by my Dad and damaged by the hurricane the month before , and had it restored.  And unbeknownst to him…

delivered it to me on her birthday.

It was possibly the nicest gift I’ve ever received because I felt as though it had come  not only from Paul,  but also from her. How else do you explain the timing.

The other day I dressed in my favorite outfit. A crisp white blouse, and blue jeans .  I put on my Grandmothers perfume and went about my day.   It wasn’t until that evening when I found myself on her bike with my cheeks aching from smiling that it occurred to me she had orchestrated that beautiful day for me.  She was channeling through me,

still here, still living,  and as long as I invite her….

still with me.

So…

‘it’s a beautiful frosty December Thursday morning. It’s a quarter to eight… and I’m lounging on my couch next to the Christmas tree snuggled up with my pups and just finishing my coffee.  It’s a morning like I’ve longed for over the last 20 years. All is quite, all is calm, most importantly…me.

The exhaustion and the rushing and the often full blown panic to get other humans and nonhuman family members …aka…numerous types of animals living with us…awake, fed, dressed, organized , and to wherever they need to be for the day is no longer a part of my life. It’s now just a fond and humorous memory… which is often what happens after you’ve moved through the challenges  of motherhood.     That time when your toddler is screaming for ju-juice at 5:00 am … or your son won’t get out of the shower… or your daughter is begging through her sobs to not have to go to school…  well now they are just endearing mem….. nahhhhhhh they still stress me out just thinking about it. LOL my ass.

Anyhow… it’s all in the past. And I am lucky enough to be able to relax a bit in the mornings…  To leisurely allow my brain and body to awaken without the jolt of the baby cries or later the torturous alarm clock.

THIS … is one of the benefits of this time of life.    MIDLIFE .  And really…. there are quite a few!

But what do I find myself doing… well I have been sucked into reading another article about how to fight your aging metabolism by eating less and cutting out all things yummy . And another one about how much exercise you need to lose weight in mid age. And another one on how to look 40 after 50. And another one… and another one… and another one.

And I’m thinking … WHYYYY do we do this to ourselves. Why are we FIGHTING it when clearly theses changes are as natural as any other growth stage in life. Like puberty.

And like a spotlight from above… the sun moves in front of my kitchen window and beams right in my eyes and momentarily blinds me, forcing me to abandon these foolish teachings!  A redirection if you will.   A “ look up you idiot!   “quit trying to regain what you were and what you are not meant to be right now!”  instead, focus on where and who you are….. NOW.

So many of us entering into this new stage of life are fighting it rather than ENJOYING IT. WHY does it matter that I am 10-20 lbs heavier as long as I am living a healthy lifestyle. WHY would I give up the sugar in my coffee that I now have time to leisurely finish,  just to stay the same weight I was in the past?  Clearly slowed metabolism and healthy weight gain is meant to happen at this age for multiple reasons. Who am I to FIGHT it?

Honestly… I don’t want to FIGHT anything at this stage of the game. I’ve done enough of that in too many aspects of my past life.

Sooo….

I’m just going to relax a bit into this time.

Instead of pushing myself in some crazy workout class with young, perfect, beautiful bodies all up in my face… I’m going to run around the yard with my pups… and dance a little more on my treadmill, and maybe make it out for a walk on the beach that is 10 miles from me and that I haven’t set foot on in years.

Instead of giving up bread and butter , donuts, and my hard apple ciders… I’m just going to cut back a bit and add in the homegrown veggies I now actually have time to grow.

And instead of a size smallish whatever… I’ll throw on a medium or large and let my belly Rest In Peace after the long hard battles it endured in my younger,  endless days.

Trust me! I am not going softly into this time by giving up on looking or feeling my best… on the contrary… I’m going softly and relaxing into thus time I’ve worked so hard to get to.

And I’m going to remember to look up and see “the light “ again and again every time someone tells me differently. For , I THINK …  it’s our daughters time to be stressed out and thin….

its OUR time to be relaxed and PLUMP (ish)