Once upon a time

Mama and me long, long ago

That phrase, "once upon a time" reminds me of the beginning line of fairy tales. I just read that it's been used in English since the 16th century, so I guess I'm not alone in remembering it with such fondness. In this picture, taken so long ago, I can look at it and wonder about those two long-ago people: mama and me.

I thought about her yesterday, since it would have been her birthday. Mama was born on July 30, 1923, and became a mother when she was nineteen. That makes the picture more than seventy years old. I'm sure it was taken by Daddy with his camera and preserved on Kodachrome, which shows Mama's beautiful long red hair, and my own blond baby locks. She used henna to bring out the natural auburn highlights in her hair. I remember when she would put what looked like mud onto her hair and wrap it in a warm towel, not forgetting to smear her eyebrows, so she looked fearsome to me, not knowing why she was doing it.

I've noticed that I remember things from my past that caused me to feel either fear or excitement, which helped the memory form permanently in my brain. I think of all the moments that have passed into oblivion because nothing caused them to stand out. I'm grateful for those moments that I still remember to this day. I have many fond memories of my childhood.

Probably one of my earliest memories came from a time when we had just moved to Puerto Rico. Daddy was stationed at Ramey Air Force Base, and we lived just a few blocks from the Caribbean Ocean. My parents must have taken me down there for the first time, and I saw a rather large crab walking on the sand in front of me. I was terrified, watching it scuttle sideways with its claws out and eyes on stalks. I started to cry, and realized that I had paid so much attention to the creature that I lost sight of my mother, which made me cry even harder. That memory comes back to me in technicolor, and I still see that crab in my mind's eye. Of course Mama came to find me, but my terror caused that moment to become a strong memory that stayed with me.

Even though we moved a lot during my childhood, I felt safe and protected because of my parents. Norma Jean and I had a rather idyllic childhood, I realize now, and most of my memories are good ones. Of course, there must have been moments when things were not so wonderful, but they are gone into the past, unretrievable because they didn't make an impression. That's just fine with me.

Norma Jean and I were as close as sisters ever are, and most of my childhood memories are shared with her. Sometimes we will talk about those times together, since we are the only ones still alive who remember them. And it always amazes me how differently we remember the same event. It makes me realize that memories are unique and probably bear little resemblance to actuality. Does it matter? I don't think so: I cherish the memories of my childhood and am glad that they are infused with happiness and feelings of being loved and safe.

How different the world is today. It's been a long time since that idyllic picture was taken, and now we have instantaneous communication across the globe. When something happens in (for example) France, I know about it immediately. And the sense of safety that I had growing up is completely gone; now I am cautious and worried when I see anything out of the ordinary. It must be very hard these days to give a child the same sense of security that I took for granted when I was young. But it's still possible; I see how my young friend Leo's parents shelter him from the news of world disasters. I was standing in line at the coffee shop behind Leo's mom after the Orlando shootings and started to talk about it with her, but she stepped between me and Leo and shushed me. I realized that she didn't want him to know about it. I stopped immediately but also thought about how difficult it must be to protect him from knowing about these awful events.

But as a child, what is most important is that you feel safe in your world, and events far away mean little. What was happening in the world when that picture was taken meant nothing to me. The Second World War was going on, with all the horrors that brought, but I knew nothing about it. Of course, we didn't have the instant communication of today's world, which made it easy to think that what was happening in my little sphere was universal. Not today.

I just went over to check on the news, which I do these days with trepidation. What awful event has happened while I slept? I see that there have been more shootings and that a hot-air balloon caught fire and went down in Texas, killing everybody aboard. The media capitalizes on these events and ignores all the good things that happened yesterday, because it's not news. I wonder how in the world I would protect a child from upsetting world events if I were trying to do it today. It would become harder and harder, the older they get.

Then again, the world of today is probably normal for most children. They have grown up with tablets and iPads and smartphones surrounding them. What is probably more important is the attitude of the adults in their lives. It makes me happy to see young people enjoying life and learning all the things that each of us still must learn to become responsible adults. That's going on around me in such abundance that I should concentrate on the positive aspects of life, rather than worry and fret about that over which I have no control.

I suppose it's inevitable as I grow older that I long for times gone by, thinking about "once upon a time" rather than looking for ways to distract myself from the ills of the world, which inundate me every time I open the news. Maybe that's what people are doing when they are playing something like Pokémon Go, the latest craze that I know nothing about. It's all over the news. Here's an excerpt from that link:

It quickly became an overnight global phenomenon and one of the most used mobile apps, reportedly having been downloaded by more than 75 million people worldwide. It was credited with popularizing location-based and augmented reality gaming.

I kept hearing about it, and I've seen people walking in groups down the street, looking at their smartphones, and I learned from Wikipedia that they are playing the Pokémon Go game. No, I'm not even tempted. I'm much more likely to pick up a new book or watch a series on Netflix than I am to spend time staring at my phone. I am curious to know whether any of my readers knows anything more about this phenomenon than I do.

Whatever. Today's world is a scary place, and if some people enjoy the distraction of playing games on their phone, who am I to object? We all have our coping mechanisms, and I have mine. I am currently reading a memoir that I'm enjoying very much: Breaking Night by Liz Murray. She was living on the streets at the age of fifteen but turned her life around and made it into Harvard. She's a good writer, too.

I did also want to say something about another coping mechanism of mine: my yoga classes. After I finish this post and stop at the coffee shop to visit my friends and quaff my espresso, I'll head to my Sunday morning yoga class with Laifong. I leave there each Sunday morning feeling terrific, as well as a little bit sore. She's teaching us very slowly how to get into a shoulder stand, using props such as a chair and wooden blocks. Fortunately for me, I am neither the oldest nor the most inflexible student in her class. I'm also learning some balancing poses. There was a time when all the stuff we're doing was easy for me. But that was then, and this is now, and I'm thrilled to be doing as well as I am. It sure helps to have a caring teacher.

Well, that is going to wrap it up for me this morning. I keep looking at the time and thinking about where I will be in two hours, and all that needs to happen between now and then. I hope you will have a wonderful week until we meet again. That said, with John F. Kennedy's immortal words, I'll close this post:

Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future. 

I don't want to miss out on the future!

Growing old together

Mt. Baker from High Divide last week

I just spent a half hour looking for the right picture to put at the top of my post, and I should remember that it's dangerous to do that, since I can get lost in my memories as I peruse them all. That's exactly what happened, and these days I must remember that the yoga class at 9:00am restricts me from sitting around for too long before writing this.

We Senior Trailblazers had a wonderful time last Thursday, when I took that picture during our lunch stop. I'm still feeling the effects of all that effort in my legs; we old folks climbed more than a thousand meters (3,600 feet) to get to that spot. But we did it, every one of the fourteen of us. The youngest hiker is in her mid-sixties, and the oldest a decade older. Almost everybody is over seventy.

It's been eight years since I started hiking with this group, and we've covered an incredible amount of terrain. I've worn out at least five pairs of boots and have gone through several iterations of backpacks to carry my essentials with me. It's been awhile since I started using a hydration pack and now consider that one of my essentials. It gives me the ability to sip water continuously, rather than waiting for one of our infrequent stops. Between having snacks handy and the water, I can manage to keep going and hope that I have many more years to enjoy the outdoors with my friends.

But that is not guaranteed, is it? The people I hike with have changed over the years, with some people no longer hiking because of injury or illness. It's what happens when you are hiking with a group of elders. But we keep on going, and it gives me an incentive to stay in shape so that I can enjoy this activity for as long as possible. I had quite a scare in the springtime when one of my knees simply refused to work. Limping around, unable to climb or descend stairs, I was afraid that it was over, that my hiking days were behind me. But the knee gradually improved, and I am happy to say that my knees successfully carried me up and down all that distance this past week without complaint. They were both braced and the trekking poles were essential, but I did it.

Tomorrow my sister Norma Jean has another birthday. She and I have been growing old together, although mostly from a distance. We still spend some time on video chat together a couple times a month, but she's got her busy life and I've got mine. I cannot imagine my life without her in it, though; we are both now in our seventies and still doing everything we can to keep ourselves healthy. We are both obsessive exercisers and eat as well as we can for health. When we talk, it's rarely about our aches and pains (although there is that), but how we have been spending our days.

Yesterday I watched an interesting movie on my laptop. I've got Amazon Prime and it reminds me of new movies that come available. Last year I almost saw The Age of Adeline when it was in the theaters, but when I saw the premise I decided to skip it. The story is about a woman (Blake Lively) who has an accident that stops her from aging. She stays 29 years old and has to change her identity every decade to keep people from realizing that she's not changing. When she is over a hundred years old, another accident makes her normal again.

The movie isn't really memorable, but I found the premise interesting, and the acting was really good. I wasn't familiar with Blake Lively, but she plays the part very well, and I enjoyed it. What it also did was got me thinking about what it would be like if I were able to stay young while everyone around me continued to age. The movie did a good job of showing how miserable and lonely an existence it would be. Ellen Burstyn plays her daughter, one of the few who know her secret. To have an elderly woman (Ellen) calling this young-appearing woman mama was truly disconcerting.

When I realized that the one thing she would never be able to experience is growing old together with a loved one, it made me again thankful for the time I have with my friends and family, those moments that come for a brief instant and then move on. Sometimes the passage of time is imperceptible. Then I see a picture of myself as a young woman and remember that I was once very different from the person I am today. When did my hair turn white? It was a strand at a time, never noticing the process much, until one day it no longer had any brown in it at all. The imperceptible process of aging will continue in me and in my loved ones until something will remind me of how changed we are today from a decade ago.

There is no reason to try to hang onto youth. What that movie reminded me is that life must move on from the present moment in order to be worthwhile. It is dynamic and not static. To be unchanging in a changing world wouldn't be much fun, and yet we all think we are just the same today as we were yesterday. Perhaps the inevitable birthdays and pictures from years past are the keys to remaining aware of this precious moment, this one right here where I sit in my bed, creating a post in a time I've set aside for this task. I'm breathing in and out and will soon finish and will rise up out of bed to experience the summer day.

A season lasts three months, and we have four of them in each year of our lives. This summer season is almost to the halfway point, and then we will begin to move towards autumn, and the leaves on the trees will change color and fall to the ground. We are truly fortunate to be able to experience all the seasons to remind us of the many cycles we pass through during our journey through life.

My latest journey, the one where I get to be elderly, is so far pretty darn good. I'm growing older with my partner, who shares the journey with me, and my family and friends as well. As is true with most things in life, there are ups and downs: periods of calm reflection, along with periods of upsets. We always get to choose what we focus on, even if we aren't able to manage the particulars of our daily lives.

Oh, and there's one other partner with whom I share this ride: you, my dear reader. We've got each other's backs. I hope you will come again to share this time with me, but today, it's time already to move from this present moment into the day. I hope you will be well and spend some time thinking about the journey we share until we meet again.

Taking a larger view

From Astronomy Picture of the Day

Since I wrote here last Sunday, more awful events have transpired in the world: first the horrific attack in Nice and then the bloody failed coup in Turkey, where I walked the streets a year ago and interacted with the wonderful people of Istanbul. As is probably true with many of my readers, I had just begun to pick myself up from despair and sadness of the previous week. Then I was cast down once again because of what we just went through.

It's time for me to take a longer view,and expand my horizons. That picture at the beginning of my post thrilled me, when I saw the moon, and behind it Jupiter and four of its moons. In order, you are seeing Callisto, Ganymede, Jupiter, Io, and Europa, peeking out from behind the crescent of our  own moon. You can read more about it on the link from Astronomy Picture of the Day.

Every morning, part of my routine is to read the blogs I follow that have popped up in my news reader, take a quick look at the news, visit Facebook if I have the time, read my emails, check the weather, and look at APOD. Only then do I close the laptop and get up to start my day. My friends smile at my need for routine, but they are all pretty used to it by now. As I sit here on Sunday morning, which is the only day that I actually write a post before I get up, my partner is sleeping soundly next to me, with a dim light on the end table next to me, which also holds my tea and the latest book I'm reading. It's very quiet, and it seems like I'm the only person stirring in the entire surrounding area. My fingers tapping the keys is the only sound I hear. This is my favorite time of the day, when I'm up and everybody else is still asleep.

For other people, like SG, his favorite time is at night when he's up and everybody else has gone to bed. Both of us enjoy these moments of solitude, because we also have each other and active lives the rest of the day. Sometimes I'm aware of when he comes to bed, but mostly I simply find him sleeping next to me when I get up to use the bathroom.

Yesterday morning when I met my lady friends for a couple of trips around Lake Padden, we were all feeling the need for companionship and sharing. I was relieved to find that I was not the only one in a fragile emotional state. Many of us came because we knew that exercise would help us get through our grief. And sure enough, when we were finished we all felt much better and were able to go into our day with a lighter heart. Our leader, Cindy, is traveling at the moment but she has still given us a schedule to follow on Saturday mornings while she is away. She's in Iceland right now, and when she returns from her travels she intends to get another spaniel puppy. It's been long enough since she lost her sweet Luna to old age and cancer that she's ready to begin again.

People who love animals always need to say goodbye to them long before they want to, even when they are long-lived, they don't have life spans that correspond to our own. My friend Gene still misses his parrot three years after it died. He had that parrot for 25 years. I remember watching Poopstain crawl inside his shirt and settle in for a nap on his chest, and I was amazed to watch how that parrot had trained Gene so well. We still gain so very much from our interaction with our pets, and I do occasionally miss having one these days. But the other side is the freedom from caring for them and not having to say goodbye way too soon. When I talk to my sister Norma Jean, she never fails to tell me of the latest antics of her dog Icarus. She got him as a puppy, and he's now five. How quickly that time passed!

Yesterday I decided to pick up a book that would be uplifting, and I was fortunate that several books had come from the library this week. After perusing them all, I started to read Bill Bryson's latest book, The Road to Little Dribbling. It's a sequel to "Notes from a Small Island," written in 1995, both about being an American in Britain. That link takes you to Goodreads, and several commenters seem to dislike the latest book because they are comparing it to the first one. Since I didn't read the first, I came to the book with little expectation. I've spent quite a lot of time laughing, sometimes out loud.

Bryson is 64 and has written several nonfiction book that have been very well received. I've only read A Walk in the Woods of his previous books, a story about his trek on the Appalachian Trail, and I enjoyed it very much. More than the movie, I must say. But in this current book, he comes across very much as a curmudgeon, a grumpy old man who finds fault with pretty much everything, but in a very humorous way. Here's an excerpt:

The worst part about aging is the realization that all your future is downhill. Bad as I am today, I am pretty much tiptop compared with what I am going to be next week or the week after. I recently realized with dismay that I am even too old now for early onset dementia. Any dementia I get will be right on time. The outlook generally is for infirmity, liver spots, baldness, senility, bladder dribble, purple blotches on the hands and head as if my wife had been beating me with a wooden spoon (always a possibility) and the conviction that no one in the world speaks loud enough.

I laughed out loud when I read that, because I can relate completely to what he's saying. And he's ten years younger than me. It's possible he is exaggerating, but then again, maybe not. His take on the world involves large doses of humor about things that are perhaps not to one's liking. It's a good way to approach the world today, in my opinion.

One of my blogging friends, Ronni of Time Goes By, posts on Saturday about things she calls "interesting stuff." Yesterday she posted a wonderful video about fireflies. I've never lived anywhere that has them, so I was really intrigued by this particular view of a rather magical creature. Not to mention that it's also very soothing and gives yet another view of this beautiful, wonderful world in which we live. It's just a little more than two minutes long. The music is lovely, too.



And with that, another post has been written. I hope that when you are finished, you will feel a little lighter in spirit than when you began. That was my intention, anyway. Please remember to look around at the beauty of the world and think of all that gives you pleasure. And when we meet again next week, I'm hopeful that many wonderful adventures will have taken place in our lives. Be well until then.

Reflections about peace on earth

Snagged from Facebook

This picture is all over my Facebook feed because of last week's awful news. It was like one blow after another, with the murder of those two black men, and then the murder of those policemen in Dallas. It seemed like every time I turned on the news, it was one awful event after another. It didn't help that the news media kept playing those traumatic videos over and over. I was caught by surprise by the first one, but after that I was careful to avoid seeing that kind of violence again.

I can understand why some unstable person might completely lose it, after being exposed to such violence over and over. Why does our news media do that? And then to stick their microphones into the faces of the bereaved and ask them how it makes them feel. It's simply awful. I finally turned off the news not only in disgust, but because I could feel it was arousing feelings of frustration and despair inside me. It reminds me that although I cannot do much to change the world, I certainly can change my own focus.

It feels to me like the world I live in is at a crossroads. Change is in the air, from the events in the Middle East to the roiling anger in our cities. And on top of that, the two major political parties will be holding their conventions this month. Maybe it's emblematic that the two main candidates are some of the least popular people on the planet, and who knows what will happen at those events? It's really scary.

I think, for me, it's time to look for some perspective so that I can put all of this angst into a more positive outlook. Yesterday I picked up a good book at the library that was recommended to me, and once I was several chapters in, I realized that my mood had improved and that maybe things are not as bad as all that. The book is The Swerve: How the World Become Modern, by Stephen Greenblatt. In addition to winning both the 2012 Pulitzer Prize and the 2011 National Book Award, it also won the Modern Language Association James Russell Lowell Prize. So I'm not alone in thinking the book is wonderful. From that link:

Greenblatt tells the story of how Poggio Bracciolini, a 15th-century papal emissary and obsessive book hunter, saved the last copy of the Roman poet Lucretius's On the Nature of Things from near-terminal neglect in a German monastery, thus reintroducing important ideas that sparked the modern age.

Part of what I have realized in reading this book is that it doesn't take much for something to change the course of history, and while it's not possible to see what's actually happening while standing in the midst of it, it will all become clear when viewed from a larger perspective. While I might not live long enough to see the outcome of this particular historical period, I have faith that it will one day be understood and written about.

In the meantime, I have my own day-to-day life to live, and it's important to realize that getting bogged down in depression is not helpful to anybody, especially me. After I finish with this post, I'll be getting up, as usual, and starting my Sunday with a yoga class. I went for the first time to Laifong's class last week, and I am thrilled that I've discovered a class that will definitely benefit me, as long as I remember to pay attention to what I can and cannot do. While most of the dozen people in her class are younger than I am, they are not in any better shape, and she doesn't see age as a barrier to improving one's strength and balance. It is a Level I class, after all, and not in any way advanced yoga.

She reminded me that yoga is a journey towards balance in all aspects of one's life and not a competition. In the Iyengar tradition of yoga, which is what I'm learning now, Ingela, the main teacher there, has a page called "Reflections" that discusses what yoga is:

In Yoga it’s not what you do, but how you do it that is the power of the practice. Quality is more important that quantity. To bring quality to a pose you align the body with balance, extend fully, and then go to your healthy edge, breathe, relax and experience. 

She has much more on that page about the process of the contradictory theme of letting go and making an effort. Laifong said last week that if you injure yourself while in class, you were not doing yoga. Being aware of my body and its limitations is part of what I'm supposed to be paying attention to, not trying to emulate someone else's pose. For me, that's easier said than done, which is why this is such a good journey for someone like me. However, there is nothing more beautiful than watching Laifong demonstrate the pose as it's supposed to be done, and then wanting to give it my best shot.

A few months ago I attended a pranayama (breathing) class taught by a woman in her eighties. Although we spent much of the time sitting quietly, every once in awhile we'd get up and stretch. I watched her as she raised her arms and effortlessly bent forward with a straight back, touching the floor with flat palms. She's been doing this yoga practice for a long time, obviously, but it made me realize that in ten years, if I keep doing this, I'll be just as limber as her. Something to look forward to.

It also makes me realize that there is only one place that I can actually affect real change, and that's in my own spirit, my own body. What I choose to do with my own life is within my own power. It brings to mind Mary Oliver's closing lines from her poem "The Summer Day": "Tell me, what do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

If I can create a little corner of the world where there's peace, I've done all I can to make things a little bit better. Writing this post has helped me gain even more perspective about the condition of the world and my place in it. And guess what? I have two hours before I'll be starting my 90-minute yoga class, and before then I need to get up and start my day. I've finished my tea and hear gentle breathing emanating from the other side of the bed. It's quiet outside, with only an occasional bird call to break the silence.

Hopefully you will be inspired to find your own peace and tranquility to add to mine, and then we'll begin to change the world, one little bit at a time. One day, I have no doubt, there WILL be peace on earth. It may take awhile.

Independence Day

Yesterday's sky

We had a cool front with possible rain move in last night, and the sky all day long yesterday was filled with these incredible clouds. I kept stopping in my tracks and gazing up at their beauty. This picture was taken from my front porch. This morning is cloudy and cool; right now it's 15C (60F). And last I checked, it's the day before the Independence Day holiday and it's sizzling all across most of the rest of the country. I'll take this temperature any day, even with the rain.

My Sunday morning routine is changing a little: this morning I need to be across town before 9:00am for a new yoga class. I've signed up for a Level I class that is only held early Sunday and in the afternoon on Thursdays. Since that's my hiking day, I'm going to see how it works out for me to take this class. It might be too advanced for me, since Gentle Yoga has been just right for months now. Here's Yoga Northwest's description of their classes. They hold plenty of other Level I classes, but I like Laifong's approach. I took a free class that she taught, and I was impressed with her ability to teach someone like me. She's a young person who, I think, sees me as someone she can help. I really like that. I'm not leaving my original instructor behind, though; I'm taking one Gentle II a week with her as well.

It wasn't that long ago that I was searching for a yoga studio that would be right for me, and now I'm signed up for my third semester of taking two classes a week. I find that smaller class sizes with plenty of correction possibilities helps me more than anything else to advance in my quest to gain flexibility and core strength, the things that will assist me in keeping fit through my seventies. That and aerobic exercise are key ingredients.

For the past two mornings, I have emerged from sleep after having vivid skydiving dreams, both very realistic and wonderful: it's almost as though that activity has not left me at all, and continues to give me pleasure. There is no sense of loss, but instead a satisfaction to think of skydiving being part of my DNA. With so many thousands of skydives under my belt, I guess it's changed me permanently. That makes me smile, just to think of it.

Tomorrow is America's Independence Day. "July Fourth in the US is a federal holiday commemorating the adoption of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776, by the Continental Congress declaring that the thirteen American colonies regarded themselves as a new nation, the United States of America, and no longer part of the British Empire."

And lately I've been watching the news about "Brexit," where Britain has been calling June 23 their own independence day after the referendum that gave the British people the chance to leave the European Union. Nobody seemed to think that it had a chance of passing, and now the whole world economy has been turned upside down. It not only passed, but now there are rumblings of Scotland and Ireland leaving the British Empire. Everything changed with the passage of that referendum. I was really dismayed to learn that the "Leave" voters won. Frankly, I think most of the Brits were dismayed as well. I found this BBC website that explains how the vote broke down by age:

From BBC

Even though the young people in Britain voted overwhelmingly to stay, it didn't matter much because they mostly didn't bother to cast a ballot. Just think how different everything would be today if they had. It's amazing to me that people don't exercise their right to vote! I have never missed a chance to cast a ballot. Whether or not it makes any difference in the long run, I feel I've done my part. But then again, I see by that chart that most of us of a certain age feel the same way about voting.

It will take several years for Britain to actually leave the European Union, but in the meantime the world economy suffered another shock. Although the stock markets have mostly recovered their huge losses, the long-term effects will be around for years. Whatever happens in our own presidential election in November is another potential shock. I'll be watching the two conventions that will be held in July and hoping that we get through this without any terrible things happening.

And that's not even mentioning the upswing in terrorism all around the world. No wonder, when I think of it, that I feel a sense of dread when I consider the state of society today. My sister and I have commented to one another that it's a good thing we're old now; we won't be around to see the worst of the world's turmoil. I was born and raised in a part of the globe where I haven't, until now, felt the effects of political upheaval directly on my day-to-day activities. With Independence Day tomorrow, I'll breathe a sigh of relief when we make it all the way to the middle of next week without having another terrorist bombing somewhere.

My heart aches for all the suffering and turmoil that goes on every single day on this planet of ours. But one of the things I get to choose is what I focus on: do I want to feel that dread and fall into despair, or do I want to focus on what I can do to make my own little corner of my world a little bit better? Every Sunday morning I sit down with my laptop and feel the day as I compose this post. I never know for sure what's going to emerge, what I'll find on this page when I finish, but it is one thing I do for myself and for my readers. In a way it helps me to connect with all that's good and right in the world.

It's almost 6:30am, and if I'm going to make it on time to my yoga class, I'll need to wind it up here and change my focus toward the day ahead. So, that said, it's with a glad heart, not a heavy one, that I wish all of you dear friends a wonderful day ahead. Be well until we meet again, and don't forget to give your loved ones a hug, virtual or actual. That's what I'm doing with you: sending you a hug, can you feel it?