I was admiring the muscular body of the spin class instructor last week (she did not have a round belly) and wondering if it was too late to go for it when she mentioned her two-year old child. Ah, I thought, I barely remember when my children were two. It is too late to even approximate looking like that. Forget about it. 

I noticed then that even the thinnest of the senior female members of my very fit spin class riders had a little round tummy. I began thinking back to when I was in my twenties. I thought I was overweight (I was not) because I did not have the slim hips and nonexistent tummy of young men, Twiggy, or magazine models. I was always sucking in my stomach. It is even more ridiculous to try to look that way at this stage of life. And besides, a frequently remarked-upon benefit of being in what Jane Fonda calls  the third act is self-acceptance. And that’s true. If we ever bought into society’s misogynistic strictures about how women should look, it’s way past time to give it up. (And besides, who’s looking?)

 My first foray into feminism and body self-acceptance was taping up on my college dorm wall reproductions of Renoir’s voluptuous women. Then, a few years later, after my two sons were born, I found there was no way I was ever going to have a flat stomach aside from an eating disorder, which fortunately was not my style, so I took belly dance lessons in an effort to appreciate my womanly curves. It wasn’t quite as exotic as it sounded, since the young woman I chose to take lesson from lived in an apartment where she wasn’t too good about picking up her dog poop. The first class was delayed while she cleaned the living room, and I found it difficult to belly dance while I was holding my breath, so that was my last lesson for a while. But I did like the idea of appreciating my belly.

 It was fun in class to entertain the fantasy of having an athletic trainer’s body for a minute, and it was reassuring to know it was just a fantasy. Yes I can probably build more muscle, and yes, I can probably lose some weight, but as I said, I’m now going for health – mental health as well as physical health. Mental health to me means not criticizing myself.  So I silently complimented myself and my fellow cyclists for our hard work and decided once again I would no longer think about looking like a 30-something. It seems that virtually all of the women I know over 60 have a round belly. It’s part of this stage of life. I accept myself and my body now, and appreciate all that my body has done for me.

 But there is a difference between having a little round tummy and having too much belly fat. There are health reasons why we should worry about belly fat at this age. The Mayo Clinic Diet book tells us that a pear-shaped body is better than an apple-shaped. It says that if you carry most of your fat around your waist or upper body, you carry fat in and around your abdominal organs, which increases your risk of developing disease. Your risk is not as high if you have a pear shape. The book has a Body Mass Index chart to determine whether you are normal, overweight or obese and describes how to measure your waist to determine whether you’re carrying too much weight around your middle.  

 So I’ve decided to lose an inch around my middle. Anyone want to join me? If so, measure your waist now, and let’s measure again in a month to see where we are. And if you want help knowing how, check out the Mayo Clinic Diet. http://www.amazon.com/Mayo-Clinic-Diet-Enjoy-Weight/dp/1561486760/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1343340611&sr=1-1&keywords=mayo+clinic+diet+book

I was saddened to read about Nora Ephron’s death last week. I watch Sleepless in Seattle regularly, and I love her writings. I wrote the following poem in response to an article by Nora in Vogue Magazine. The second poem is along the similar lines.

To Nora Ephron

Dear Nora,

Thanks for writing about “the D word.”

But really —  in Vogue’s Age Issue?

I wanted to see what, if anything,

Vogue would have to say

to those of us in our sixties.

And there you are, exactly my age,

writing about death – your friend’s death.

But we still have to wear something

and do something with our faces maybe

and maybe our skin or our nails or our hands and feet, or . . .

We can’t just wait for the big D;

denial’s not working,

fantasy goes only so far.

Couragio! I know!

Let’s be Italian in our last years.

Eat, drink wine, sing, make art,

bring joy.

That’s our work –

to bring fun to our serious, hardworking children –

cookies, chocolate, flowers, music –

to remind them that life is short and wonderful.

Love and Fun  

I don’t know anything

especially what I used to especially

about what people should do or

why life is the way it is or what

brings happiness except for

living in the now difficult and

trite as that is. Now is

all we have now is where

to find joy and happiness now

is bliss.

What-if,

if-then,

if-when

nobody knows, least of all me.

I saw it yesterday in a cottonwood tree heard it in a bird song. It’s

in beauty and kindness and of course love.

I’m sorry I have no answers.

The older I am the less I know.

I’m only good for love and fun.

One of the most difficult issues for those of us in what Jane Fonda calls Act 3 in her new book Prime Time is that we get seriously busy. Rather than having time to read, work on our favorite pasttime, enjoy life at a relaxed pace, we find ourselves living according to our calendars, volunteering for duties that end up feeling like a job, and finding ourselves at the end of the day wondering why we didn’t … read poetry, write, play music, take a walk … you fill in the blank.

I’ve noticed how many women take on projects out of a sense of obligation just because they can do whatever the job is. For example, I volunteered to be the president of our homeowners’ association because I had experience running organizations. This took a lot of time that I then didn’t have for other things. While my homeowners’ association is important to me, there are other ways to be involved that are more fun and less aggravating.

Which leads to the next reason I’ve noticed that keeps me busy, — doing things because they are interesting. If you’re like me, you’re interested in a lot of things. That’s why I have a pair of waders to use for fly fishing which I have yet to wear. And it’s why I spent last Saturday morning at a meditation workshop (which I have already incorporated into my routine), and why my calendar looks like it did when I was working full time at the law school. The world is an interesting place. I could completely fill my calendar with classes, workshops, adult play-days. So rather than just do what sounds interesting, I have decided that before I say yes, what I choose to do has to relate to my values for this time of my life.

We live a life of fulfillment by making choices consistent with our values. If there’s a conflict in what to choose, then determining our higher-ranked value can resolve the conflict. Values arise from who we are, not what we do. If my values relate to being in nature, being with people one-on-one, experiencing solitude, then I probably wouldn’t choose to spend my money and time on going to NASCAR events. Usually we know intuitively if activities relate to our values; that’s why we want to do them. But sometimes things get complicated if we are asked by a dear friend or an organization we belong to to do something that we really don’t want to do. But because we want to spend time with our friend or stay involved in the organization, we say yes then find ourselves overbooked, often with activities we really don’t enjoy.

What will help us get off this merry-go-round? Take a little time to write down your values and rank them according to their importance to you. One way to do this is to think of a peak moment in time and then extract the values from that experience. Then, when you are leafing through the continuing education catalogue or browsing on the lifelong learning website, you will decline signing up for kickboxing and instead opt for restorative yoga or say no to Re-enactment of the Civil War in Socorro and sign up for A Culinary Tour of Italy. While all of the classes sound somewhat interesting to me, some are more consistent with my values.

To avoid the “how did I ever find time to have a job?” busy-ness syndrome, ask yourself these three questions when you are about to say yes to an opportunity.

1) Does this relate to an important value?

2) Will I really enjoy doing it?

3) Do I want to give it the time this will take?

If you can say yes to these three questions, you probably won’t regret your decision.

I woke up this morning thinking of my friend Marion. Marion is 96 years old and was returning, with her significant other (who is 94 and who has just finished writing a book) from the 100^th birthday party for his sister. They were driving from Denver to Phoenix, with a stop at her daughter’s home in Albuquerque. Being with Marion always gives me something to think about. Not just because she is internationally known for her work in detecting hearing losses in babies, for which the University of Denver named a building after her, but because of her approach to life. I love to reread her book, Shut Up and Live. http://www.amazon.com/Shut-Live-You-Know-How/dp/1583332928/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1327954180&sr=1-5

As I mused on seeing Marion again, I began to think about the idea that there was a chance I would live to be 100. That means I would live another 28 years. What could I do in 28 years?  I divided my life into 28 year segments. (I recommend doing this enlightening exercise.) My first 28 years set the course of my life, ending with a bachelor’s degree, a marriage, a move to Albuquerque, and two children. In the second 28 years I got an MA and law degree, helped start a church-in-the-home, developed a love of the outdoors, taught re-evaluation counseling, saw my sons on their way, and practiced law. I’m now half-way through my third 28 year cycle, and so far have completed a law career, retired from the law and become a life coach, and have become interested in fishing.

Twenty-eight years is an interesting gauge to use to think about the next period of life. A lot can happen. It makes sense to me to have that time period in mind when I think about what the future might hold for me. What will it be like? Will I be traveling around the country like Marion? Writing a book like her friend? Being involved in civil rights issues like my friend Floy? What will I be doing physically? Will I still be going to the gym? What about Diana Nyad who at the age of 61 swam for 29 hours without stopping, or Keiko Fukuda of San Francisco, a judo master who began studying the art in 1935, and who gave a ground-breaking demonstration of kata, or forms, at the 1964 Olympics. At age 98, Sensei Fukuda still teaches three times a week. http://www.secondact.com/2011/08/senior-athletes-who-inspire-us-this-summer/  I was not a young athlete like they were, but I can still aspire at my own level.

When I look around I see lots of people in their 60s and older who are doing all the things that younger people do. Yet I am still affected by the pictures I grew up with of older people, like my grandmother who died an old woman in her 60s. And the messages from all of the unavoidable ads telling us to stay young, look young, act young. Or if we are looking at media that targets older people, the ads for medicines, retirement homes, and devices. Our psyches are full of negative images of aging that I believe we have to be aware of so that we can consciously counter them. I’m not sure why our minds do this, but I am aware that when I think of my mother, who had a vital, active, involved life almost to the end at the age of 86, I think of her at 86 rather than how she was during most of her life.  Lately I’ve been making the effort to think of her when she was middle age.

It’s not just that aging is not for sissies, as Art Linkletter wrote, but that it’s a #@%ing minefield. I have to be constantly on the alert to not believe these negative thoughts that course through my mind. Thinking about living another 28 years is one way I do that. Of course, no one knows what’s in store for us, but thinking ahead 28 years is more fun that buying into society’s beliefs about aging.

While walking with my neighbor Judy we were talking about
friendship. Judy is planning to leave Albuquerque
after more than 20 years living here. She was telling her daughter-in-law she
felt bad about leaving her friends, when her daughter-in-law repeated an idea she
had heard from her spiritual leader. This is my translation of it.

If we look at our friendships as something special, like a
romantic relationship, they not only are heavy with expectations (and thus
disappointment) but they also exclude all of those people who are not in the
“friend” category. If, instead, we view all people as givers and receivers of
love, if we intend to be open and loving toward them, then our world of people
we can relate to on a heart level is suddenly enormous. If our intention is
love, then we can give love to everyone and be open to receiving love from
everyone, and not just save it for our “friends.”

I was attending a workshop with Evan Hodkins (http://www.schoolofalchemy.com/),
who told a story about going to the grocery store for something he needed for a
cooking project and coming home with a bag full of groceries but not the
particular item he went for. He was (to my mind) understandingly annoyed, until
he remembered that his purpose in life was to love, not to do projects. So he
went back to the store with that intention – to have the trip be an experience
of love rather than shopping. Getting the grocery item was secondary to his
intention and life purpose.

When we are open to the possibility that each person we
encounter is an opportunity for us to give and receive love, we don’t need to
be so attached to those we call “friends” as our only source of love, comfort
and companionship. We hear about people creating intentional families when
their family of origin might not be the place they feel comfortable. This
concept is similar. We can see friends everywhere, then when we are called to a
new place to live or work, we can go there realizing that we are not leaving
something behind, but opening ourselves to something new and enlarging our
consciousness of those we love and who love us.

To all my current and future friends, “I LOVE YOU!!”