Month: January 2024

Some rules of the road are very simple: red means stop and green means go, but a yellow light, proceed with caution, is not so simple. What does caution look like? Should I speed up to make the yellow light or should I slow down and stop? It’s a judgement call and we all know that our judgement is not always the best. . And then we have the other yellow on the road,  lines that tell us it’s ok to pass or not. A broken yellow line says that conditions may be right to pass but an  oncoming car means “no passing” no matter what the yellow lines say. I’m a long ways from the passing zones in rural Iowa. These days the yellow line I see most frequently  is the yellow line that marks the center of the walking/jogging track at the senior center. Slow moving traffic keep left, on the inside of the track, and passing is on the right, on the outside of the track, for the speedier contingent. This sounds simple, but there are always those walkers or joggers who are not paying attention or can’t read! I may be a guilty party. I know I can be distracted while driving and walking .

I could use some road signs or rules of the road as I navigate each day. Stop! Do not say that! Go! Keep moving and don’t isolate. The toughest is when I need a yellow approach and I haven’t a clue how to proceed, much less proceed with caution. Looking at the birdie over there I can miss the herd of elephants coming right at me.  First I have to be sure that I am the driver, I make the decisions and I’m in charge of the brakes, steering wheel and the accelerator. People-pleasing puts others in the driver’s seat and me in the back seat.  Are my eyes and mind open? A blind driver is surely a hazard, but when I choose to “See no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil.”, I am living blind. How many times have I said or heard, “Hey can’t you read the sign?”  Apparently not if my mind and eyes are closed! I’m not alone out here on the road of life and other drivers really complicate things.  I can’t control what others are up to and I can get angry when things are not going my way. I’m not in charge of the world or the road.  Sometimes I get road rage and really want to flip off my fellow drivers. I suspect I’m often part of the problem and not part of the solution.

Do my years and life experiences make me a better driver, or am I know-it-all who is definitely older and most likely slower?  Can both be true? “Been there, done that.” often works on the road and in life. I’ve experienced “this” before and I know what to do, but there are those times when I insist on repeating old behaviors because this time it’s different. It’s not. Roundabouts  are so much more efficient because traffic keeps moving and people get where they want to go —as long as everyone gets on and off the roundabout smoothly. How many times have I gone round and round unable to make a decision? Not good on roundabouts or in life. As I’ve gotten older I believe I’m more of a defensive driver and I’m also more defensive about protecting myself and my time. If the sign says, “Left lane closed ahead”, I don’t wait for the last few feet to merge right. This is one of my pet peeves—those who rush ahead and sit in the lane that’s closing so they can get ahead of other drivers because we have to let them in. This is BS. I plan ahead when I can. There may be shortcuts, but I can piss off my fellow travelers if I can’t show a little respect. 

There’s that little voice in my head that often tells me my truth and the best course for me. In the car, Siri is that little voice I listen to. She tells me how to get to my destination. Thank God for GPS!!  Even if I don’t know where I am going my car can tell me.  It’s pretty obvious how useful a GPS for life would be. I’m embarrassed to admit that I am less lonely and feel more secure when Siri is talking to me, telling me to turn right at the next light. See how seductive artificial intelligence can be? I trust Siri. If only she could answer some of my “big” questions.

My sense of  “self” has been nonsense for several months. I have been sick and scared and all of my energy has been focused inward.   No writing, no storytelling, just the need to protect myself and to sustain myself . Rest, try to eat, cry, beg for help while feeling unworthy of help . Waiting, a lot of waiting. Fear, a lot of fear. Now I’m starting to feel better and I know that writing is the key to re-inhabitating my life. My writing muscle has atrophied, it’s  stiff and weak. I’m telling myself, start slow, small steps, just get writing and remind myself that writing is one of the things I do that feels right to me. Fake it till you make it. I’ve spent months living in the land of “What if?” and today I’m beginning to ask “What now?” 

It’s simple really—begin again, renew, find the scattered pieces, old and new, and put together the ever changing puzzle of my life. I don’t get a do over to recover my “missing” months, i just need to sift thru them for pieces of pain and wisdom to keep and build on. What have I learned? The truth is that although I’ve always professed “ It’s ok to ask for help.”, I didn’t really believe that. The mountains I had to climb over were my feelings of pride and unworthiness to finally get the humility to squeak out the question “Can you help me?”.  I figured out that people aren’t mind readers and sometimes they are wanting to help, but simply don’t know what to do. Asking for help is really an act of bravery and often fear over-ruled my courage. There were times when I didn’t want to be alone and I asked family and friends to stay with me. I had to tell the voice that was telling me I didn’t deserve help to “Go to hell!”, and some other expletive deletives. What I’m telling myself when I talk to myself is often old propaganda, intended to bolster fear and unworthiness, both old friends of mine. I learned it was time to let some of my old friends behind and nurture the positive friends who sustained me and who I could sustain and nurture.

Getting old can bomb dreams into a million tiny pieces.  Illusions, delusions and dreams whither in the face of time passing. It’s not all bad news because one thing I found was a lot more clarity. “How important is it?” was a question I asked myself a lot and the answer was often “It doesn’t matter.” —and it didn’t . Order Thanksgiving dinner, make all Christmas gifts gift cards, dust around objects and DO sweep under the rug. Nobody suffered and no love was lost. My son finally won big at Zilch and that’s a great Christmas memory.  I am not going to live forever. Wow that’s a news flash right? When I hear that someone has died the first question I ask is “How old were they? Younger than me and I feel fear and dread.   I prefer the dead way older than me, 80’s and 90’s so I can think about how many years I have left. 

I notice more about my world. I stopped to watch a whirling funnel of leaves and thought about how many people just walked on by. The geese are really pretty funny to watch, such an attitude!  When I’m inside and it’s cold and the wind is blowing, it’s  warm and cozy because I am not homeless and I have 2 little doggies to cuddle up with. I guess noticing is how I get to gratitude. I don’t want anybody to tell me to be grateful, but a lot more gratitude would have eased some of the angst I’ve felt in the last few months.

Thank you seems like such a puny thing to say to my very special friend, M, who saved my ass in the last few months. Day and night, over and over she was the best friend I’ve ever had. I can’t possibly find the right words to say how very grateful I am that she did not run away. I was so sick of myself, I’m not sure how she did it. Thank you my friend.

It feels good to finish this mediocre post because I’m writing for my life.