Not just physically with all the old age ailments hitting us one after another: high blood pressure, aching joints, weak bladders, hearing loss and the general diminishment of energy. It's more than that. It's also the knowledge that all those dreams we had when we were young are quickly fading and the proverbial "bucket list" becomes increasingly more difficult to fulfill.
I'll never get to do ALL the things I've dreamed about doing: joining the Peace Corps, becoming a famous author, running for the Senate, speaking several languages and traveling, traveling, traveling. I have some talents and I'm still energetic, but I can see what's ahead. It's the gradual pulling away from all that you've loved and the regular loss of people who've made a difference in your life. It creates anxiety and fear -- not of the inevitable -- but that there's too little time left.
It's the most difficult phase of my life so far and I'm not dealing with it very well.
In spite of a loving family, children who (I hope) respect and admire me, I am slowly moving out of their lives and I suppose that's as it should be. They will go on without me one day and that hurts. But it's the plan.
I just can't stand not being in the fast lane anymore.
What's the big thing about retirement, anyway? How much television can you watch, how many fishing trips or golf games can you plan. How many bridge parties can you tolerate? One needs a purpose in life no matter what your age. So I've finally decided what that purpose is for me, now that I'm too old to race cars at the Englewood Speedway or hunt for buried treasure at the bottom of the ocean. I want to come to terms with it. I have to accept it. That's my purpose, but it isn't easy.
So I begin each day, now, watching the graceful sway of the trees as they bend with the spring snow in our back yard, listening to the hum of the wind as it rustles their leaves, laughing at the young fox scrambling after the squirrel and missing it time after time, seeing the birds nervously eye the cat who could teach the fox a lesson or two and I think, wow, I'm a part of it all -- the cosmic birth and rebirth, a universal oneness, the ultimate cycle of life.
Yes, I'm old now, but I was once young, and maybe I will be again. What have I learned that will prepare me for the next phase? Do I hold resentment and anger? Do I talk about people with a sneer in my voice? Have I done my part to support friends who are going through a tough time? Do I appreciate and acknowledge those who love me?
This is my belief: I’ve asked for it -- everything I am and everything I've done, I've planned out myself; it is therefore mine to deal with. That's the learning part and ultimate purpose.
My advice to "seniors" is to use this time for contemplation, to look back, but to look forward and sideways, too. According to the quantum theory, we are living in alternate universes as we speak and perhaps we are living those dreams in a different dimension. So beware of your moods and your thoughts -- stay positive, try to see the good in all people (it's always there) and appreciate our special relationship with the animal world. Even if you are infirm, you can still live dynamically by staying open to this universal energy that inspires us all -- absorb it, metabolize it and exhale it with gusto.
And to my progeny, my message is this: time is precious so don’t waste it. Get out and do it now; do whatever it is you want to do but do it now while time is on your side.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
Lost, a short story
An excerpt, entitled "Lost," from my collection of short stories now appearing on http://www.amazon.com/
My breath is labored but I ski diligently down the hill. The wind whistles past my ears and I feel the tender pat of snow on my face. It is late afternoon and I am cold, but he is here. I feel him. I listen for his voice.I fall spread-eagle, skis askew, spraying snow in all directions. I am light-headed but I rise to my elbow and try to think. My head clears but I have lost my goggles from the fall. Without sun, there are no shadows; without goggles, there is no depth perception -- everything is flat. I stand, helpless and stunned and look overhead: roiling sky and furious snow. My body is old and abused and I cannot decide what to do. Stragglers hurry towards the bottom of the mountain like frightened animals searching for shelter.
How long has it been, I try to remember, since I waved to the excited tourists swinging overhead on the last chair lift of the day?
A ten year old," I called. "Look for a lost boy." My throat still throbs from the yelling. They leaned forward, straining to hear with knitted brows and good intentions, then looked ahead expectantly to the "Tips Up" sign and prepared to unload. An hour. It's been an hour.
A shelter of trees looms before me. I ski towards the trees. It is dark here and I blink to adjust my vision. I want to linger where it is safe and think of him. I want to think of Jason. I lean for a moment against a tree. It is rough against my back and I want to sink down into the snow. But I wait, wait for the breath to return.
Bird," his dad said. "Watch those boys ski, now. See how loose they are? how graceful? They're not all tight and stiff, you see." And it was true. As tykes, they swooshed down the mountain on either side of me, like new born comets blazing sky trails. "They're in control though, Birdie," he said.
And they were, of course. They were his sons, so they learned well the first time. And when Jason came to us late in life, he learned from them, his brothers.
Jason says, I'm here, Mom.
I listen. I use my poles to straighten; my back and legs throb. I plop one ski and then the other to come out of the soft powder beneath the trees. I raise my face to the wind. Dear God, I think.
A ten year old. A lost boy. An avid mountaineer; an apprentice to the wild. Still, I pray.
"The poles, Birdie, use your poles," my dead husband yelled. "Plant! That's right. Plant! Good girl. Now, lean back just a little and keep those skis straight. Fine, Bird, you're doing fine."
I head down the darkening slopes. Yes, I think. I'm doing fine. I had the baby and now you're gone.
(c) 2002 by Sue Mcghee
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Flight or Fight
The earthquake in Chile was not as devastating as the Haitian quake last month even though it was reported to be 500 times greater in force. In any case, once the looting began, it was neighbor against neighbor in a violent fight for survival. One has to ask oneself, “how would I behave” in a situation like that? If faced with life and death, would our sense of civility and lawfulness rise to the surface or would we revert to the flight or fight syndrome, the ancestral imperative to survive no matter what? I personally would like to believe that during a catastrophic event, I’d be courageous and strong -- a leader rather than a marauder. But in the face of imminent danger to children and home, how would one react? Does anyone know for sure? It’s a doubt I’ve lived with all my life and I still don’t know the answer.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Avatar
I’m sure you’ve all seen AVATAR at least once and have formed an opinion about it. I’ve read and heard many discussions ranging from total enthrallment to snide comments about “every cliché ever invented all rolled up into one film” – something like that. I thought it was interesting and fun with the violence and special effects reminiscent of the Star Wars series from the eighties and nineties – which to me becomes a little tiresome. But the depiction of the Na’Vi’s was original and charming -- a race of beautiful beings living in a world without violence and with a deep respect for nature. The “dream walkers,” of course have traveled from earth in their never-ceasing search for consumption. They want to develop the peaceful universe of “Pandora” both scientifically and militarily, to escape the negative utopia on earth in the year 2164. (It is August when Jake Sully makes his final entry in his daily video journal).
What can I say?
We’ve been exposed to similar stories of the destruction of our earth since the 1800’s with BRAVE NEW WORLD and 1984 along with the cult movie, BLADE RUNNER. However, these books and movies show the dark and depraved side of humanity ruled by a force that controls the human spirit absolutely.
In my opinion, Avatar, the movie, tries to reverse that.
As many of you know, the word Avatar (Sanscrit) means loosely one who transforms from spirit to flesh. The Na’Vi is a race that lives within nature and becomes one with it; they believe they are all manifestations of Ai’Wa, their mother spirit. The idea does not originate with James Cameron, it goes back to many ancient belief systems, but appeals to the new agers and those of us who believe there should be more than one path to Divinity.
“I see you,” tells me the Na’Vi are recognizing the Divine in me -- their version of “namaste” perhaps, which expresses something like “the divinity in me greets (and sees) the divinity in you.”
Avatar, the movie, contains a welcome message: that we are all one, that we should be kind to our earth and fellow creatures, that we must conserve our earth’s resources and that the divinity in me sees the divinity in you. It’s a beautiful concept. I loved it.
Namaste!
What can I say?
We’ve been exposed to similar stories of the destruction of our earth since the 1800’s with BRAVE NEW WORLD and 1984 along with the cult movie, BLADE RUNNER. However, these books and movies show the dark and depraved side of humanity ruled by a force that controls the human spirit absolutely.
In my opinion, Avatar, the movie, tries to reverse that.
As many of you know, the word Avatar (Sanscrit) means loosely one who transforms from spirit to flesh. The Na’Vi is a race that lives within nature and becomes one with it; they believe they are all manifestations of Ai’Wa, their mother spirit. The idea does not originate with James Cameron, it goes back to many ancient belief systems, but appeals to the new agers and those of us who believe there should be more than one path to Divinity.
“I see you,” tells me the Na’Vi are recognizing the Divine in me -- their version of “namaste” perhaps, which expresses something like “the divinity in me greets (and sees) the divinity in you.”
Avatar, the movie, contains a welcome message: that we are all one, that we should be kind to our earth and fellow creatures, that we must conserve our earth’s resources and that the divinity in me sees the divinity in you. It’s a beautiful concept. I loved it.
Namaste!
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Those Intrepid Israelis
After I got over my infatuation with Ari ben Canaan (Exodus, 1958) and his manly involvement in the creation of Israel, long after I admired the fearlessness of the Haganah, the inherent romantic ideal of the Sabra and the immensely sensible structure of the Kibbutzim, I began to doubt all that Israel represented.
Years after the birth of their country in 1948, the Israelis began throwing their weight around in the Middle East and I couldn't help but judge them. They were brainy and belligerent bullies who wanted to own all that land which belonged as much to the Arabs as it did to them. I began to despise the muscle-flexing Benjamin Netanyahu and his threats against Iran.
Yet, I reminded myself, the Israelis had brought forth a veritable garden from the dry and rocky Negev Desert. They had elected Golda Meir as Prime Minister long before most countries would take their women seriously. And, they allowed their women to fight.
Today they have rekindled my admiration somewhat.
This pip-squeak little nation with the attitude called upon all of that tremendous ability to perform miracles and sent “. . .120 doctors and nurses, rescue teams, search dogs and equipment and supplies for establishing a sophisticated field hospital capable of treating 500 patients daily” (http://rj.org/).
The extraordinary response was accomplished within 48 hours of the Haitian earthquake this month -- all the way from the Middle East and not the from the U.S., which lies only a few hundred miles north. The results of this mission could effectively be compared to what we used to call "American ingenuity" but is solely within the province of Israeli know-how and preparedness.
I salute you, Israel, Ari would have been proud. But do me a favor and stay away from Iran.
Years after the birth of their country in 1948, the Israelis began throwing their weight around in the Middle East and I couldn't help but judge them. They were brainy and belligerent bullies who wanted to own all that land which belonged as much to the Arabs as it did to them. I began to despise the muscle-flexing Benjamin Netanyahu and his threats against Iran.
Yet, I reminded myself, the Israelis had brought forth a veritable garden from the dry and rocky Negev Desert. They had elected Golda Meir as Prime Minister long before most countries would take their women seriously. And, they allowed their women to fight.
Today they have rekindled my admiration somewhat.
This pip-squeak little nation with the attitude called upon all of that tremendous ability to perform miracles and sent “. . .120 doctors and nurses, rescue teams, search dogs and equipment and supplies for establishing a sophisticated field hospital capable of treating 500 patients daily” (http://rj.org/).
The extraordinary response was accomplished within 48 hours of the Haitian earthquake this month -- all the way from the Middle East and not the from the U.S., which lies only a few hundred miles north. The results of this mission could effectively be compared to what we used to call "American ingenuity" but is solely within the province of Israeli know-how and preparedness.
I salute you, Israel, Ari would have been proud. But do me a favor and stay away from Iran.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
WorldQuake
After hearing of two more bodies pulled out of the rubble today, eight days after the initial 7.0 + quake last week, I am struck by how strong the desire to live is within us humans and how belatedly we realize it.
Here is a statement by a guy named Dieuseul Anglade, the director of Haiti's Bureau of Mines, who predicted in September, 2008 the following:
"For two centuries, no major earthquake has been recorded in the Haitian capitol. The amount of energy accumulated along the fault runs the risk of an earthquake of 7.2 on the Richter scale. . There's no need to panic. But it would be a catastrophe." And of of course it is just that.
Yes, we have all been generous in our response, no matter how encumbered the initial relief effort has been. Though it has shaken us to our core, we have come together as one world in our response -- the earthquake became a worldquake, but how long will it last? What was done to respond to Monsieur Anglade's dire and prescient statement over a year ago?
With an incredible life force that keeps our pulses beating through extraordinary pain and deprivation, our lungs breathing when there is little air to breathe, we desperately want to survive. Why, then, don't we listen to our mother earth, which is shouting out her message?
Why can't we put our differences aside and come together in a world wide response (as we have done in this tragedy) and prepare for the next natural disaster by forming the well-oiled, coordinated machine that ensures precious days are not lost because of "logistics."
I think we can.
Here is a statement by a guy named Dieuseul Anglade, the director of Haiti's Bureau of Mines, who predicted in September, 2008 the following:
"For two centuries, no major earthquake has been recorded in the Haitian capitol. The amount of energy accumulated along the fault runs the risk of an earthquake of 7.2 on the Richter scale. . There's no need to panic. But it would be a catastrophe." And of of course it is just that.
Yes, we have all been generous in our response, no matter how encumbered the initial relief effort has been. Though it has shaken us to our core, we have come together as one world in our response -- the earthquake became a worldquake, but how long will it last? What was done to respond to Monsieur Anglade's dire and prescient statement over a year ago?
With an incredible life force that keeps our pulses beating through extraordinary pain and deprivation, our lungs breathing when there is little air to breathe, we desperately want to survive. Why, then, don't we listen to our mother earth, which is shouting out her message?
Why can't we put our differences aside and come together in a world wide response (as we have done in this tragedy) and prepare for the next natural disaster by forming the well-oiled, coordinated machine that ensures precious days are not lost because of "logistics."
I think we can.
Friday, January 1, 2010
The Eagle and the Condor
When the Eagle flies with the Condor, there will be peace and brotherhood among nations. This is a two thousand year old prophecy that is beginning to have some heft in the nations south of us -- all except the peace part, that is.
If you are not aware of the prophecy it goes something like this: The eagle represents North America (and by extension other western, highly civilized and wealthy nations) and its emphasis on the intellect, science and money, to the exclusion of the spirit. By contrast, the condor embodies a powerful spiritual connection to earth and our fellow creatures who occupy it; ie, all of nature, and represents not only the natives of Latin America, but the indigenous people of the world who, through the ages, have suffered through exploitation, suppression and persecution.
The prophecy states that at the beginning of the fifth *Pachacuti, (2000) the balance of power will shift and the indigenous people of the world will begin to resume their rightful place among nations.
If you think this is a lot of hooey, take a look at Hugo Chaves of Venezuela and Evo Morales, the first indigenous president of Bolivia. Both are anti-American in policy and continually spout their belief that we Americans (and others) have carelessly polluted the earth with industry and greed and that we should have to pay through reparation.
I can speak to the condition of the natives of Bolivia: because of language deficiencies, and lack of education, they have allowed the minority, made up of rich white European descendents, to rule their country for centuries. It is certainly time that they have a voice and I was thrilled when one of their own -- a former cocalero -- gained the presidency for the first time in 2005; I support them and the world’s need for a cleaner environment as well as a much stricter policy controlling the treatment of our food animals. However, in his tirade against the U. S. in Copenhagen recently, Morales failed to address the trash heap that is El Alto and sits atop the city of LaPaz, the capitol of his own country. Double standards, perhaps?
A deciple of Chaves, Morales prefers to place blame rather than fulfill the prophecy. The legend speaks of PEACE among nations and brotherhood among men (generic man, of course), not additional wars and recriminations. With Morales' popularity, evidenced by the acquisition of more than 60% of the vote in the December 2009 presidential election, he could help to create the best environment for political détente with his neighbors to the north that has been available during his lifetime.
Using his status, he could re-install the U. S. Ambassador he booted out of his country more than a year ago and he could reinstate a program cut short by his expulsion of the DEA, believing their methods for exfoliating the coca leaf benefited no one, an argument that I can sympathize with in part, and the subject of another blog published earlier in 2009.
It is a complex issue and I do not claim to know the answers. I do know that the Obama administration may be his chance to show his people what the meaning of the prophecy is: let the two magnificent birds of prey learn to fly together and achieve long time peace and prosperity for both hemispheres. It would be a beginning and would, perhaps more important to him, ensure his place in the volatile history of his country.
*pachacuti is an Inca word representing a period of roughly 500 years. Pachacuti was also an Incan ruler and son of Viracocha, the Bolivian sun god at Tiwanaku.
If you are not aware of the prophecy it goes something like this: The eagle represents North America (and by extension other western, highly civilized and wealthy nations) and its emphasis on the intellect, science and money, to the exclusion of the spirit. By contrast, the condor embodies a powerful spiritual connection to earth and our fellow creatures who occupy it; ie, all of nature, and represents not only the natives of Latin America, but the indigenous people of the world who, through the ages, have suffered through exploitation, suppression and persecution.
The prophecy states that at the beginning of the fifth *Pachacuti, (2000) the balance of power will shift and the indigenous people of the world will begin to resume their rightful place among nations.
If you think this is a lot of hooey, take a look at Hugo Chaves of Venezuela and Evo Morales, the first indigenous president of Bolivia. Both are anti-American in policy and continually spout their belief that we Americans (and others) have carelessly polluted the earth with industry and greed and that we should have to pay through reparation.
I can speak to the condition of the natives of Bolivia: because of language deficiencies, and lack of education, they have allowed the minority, made up of rich white European descendents, to rule their country for centuries. It is certainly time that they have a voice and I was thrilled when one of their own -- a former cocalero -- gained the presidency for the first time in 2005; I support them and the world’s need for a cleaner environment as well as a much stricter policy controlling the treatment of our food animals. However, in his tirade against the U. S. in Copenhagen recently, Morales failed to address the trash heap that is El Alto and sits atop the city of LaPaz, the capitol of his own country. Double standards, perhaps?
A deciple of Chaves, Morales prefers to place blame rather than fulfill the prophecy. The legend speaks of PEACE among nations and brotherhood among men (generic man, of course), not additional wars and recriminations. With Morales' popularity, evidenced by the acquisition of more than 60% of the vote in the December 2009 presidential election, he could help to create the best environment for political détente with his neighbors to the north that has been available during his lifetime.
Using his status, he could re-install the U. S. Ambassador he booted out of his country more than a year ago and he could reinstate a program cut short by his expulsion of the DEA, believing their methods for exfoliating the coca leaf benefited no one, an argument that I can sympathize with in part, and the subject of another blog published earlier in 2009.
It is a complex issue and I do not claim to know the answers. I do know that the Obama administration may be his chance to show his people what the meaning of the prophecy is: let the two magnificent birds of prey learn to fly together and achieve long time peace and prosperity for both hemispheres. It would be a beginning and would, perhaps more important to him, ensure his place in the volatile history of his country.
*pachacuti is an Inca word representing a period of roughly 500 years. Pachacuti was also an Incan ruler and son of Viracocha, the Bolivian sun god at Tiwanaku.
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