Category — Heart and Soul

My neighbor and I met in the hallway of our apartment building and exchanged hellos. He has been having some serious health issues and so have I. During our brief interlude, we laughed at how we have simply just gotten old. We have to admit it, and were amused with how we now realize why old people always seem so short tempered and in such a hurry. They, or we now, don’t have the time to dilly-dally and procrastination is a waste of time.

We also touched on how limited we are in having someone to depend on and concluded that sadly, God is the only one. Everyone else is trying to keep it together just as we are.

I admit it was very disheartening to wake up one day and discover I was old. Oh, I’m not crying in my tomato soup, I still have an active life. But, as my health issues increase and my energy decreases, I have to face the fact that I am no longer in my 20s, 30s, 40s, or 50s, and quickly slipping away from my 60s. (I will be 68 in January.) What to do; what to do!!

I find it interesting that although I know how old I am when I look in the mirror, and by the way my body feels when I struggle with things I’ve been used to doing very easily, my mind only feels full to overflowing; not old. I just know that I know a lot about a lot. There aren’t too many subjects, except those extreme intellectual ones like quantum physics and such that I either have experienced, know someone who has, or heard or read about. This mass of knowledge gives me great pleasure, especially when I get to share it.

I guess the bottom line is that getting older ain’t that bad. In fact, I accept it as my reward for all the tears, confusion, and do-over’s I’ve had to endure. I love my gray hair and wish it were gold, because I’ve entered the “golden time of day” and find it’s not too bad. I dedicate the attached video to all those golden oldies like me and all those who look forward to becoming one.

Frankie Beverly and Maze \"The Golden Time of Day\"

When I wake up every morning, and I’m grateful for that blessing, I know that this is a day I have been given to create, or be or do something different. It is with that freshness of anticipation that I love to begin my day. Although there may have come up issues I had to address yesterday, or there may be things which have lingered around for quite awhile, each morn brings a chance to learn a new lesson; something exceptional. And that possibility is what makes living life a wonderful experience.

Since I have been old enough to remember, I have always been a crier. I cry when I’m happy, I cry when I’m sad. I even cry when I think about all the times I’ve cried. I realize now that mainly I was crying out of frustration, because I put so much on my plate all the time, and usually didn’t know how to find myself out of the maze of decisions I was making; so I cried. I also remember mourning the death of my parents years and years before they died, but when they did I was quite prepared. They had taught me all that they could, and although I missed them tremendously, accepting their passing was a lesson I had to learn.

Life has become more enjoyable for me as time goes on, and that’s because I have opened my mind to the possibilities that all my experiences come to teach me lessons, and the sooner I learn them, the sooner I can move on. In addition, if a similar experience or lesson comes up again, I can act rather than react in behalf of my own well-being and peace of mind. I have also learned to ask for help when I need it, I have stopped trying to do everything myself; which was one of my biggest problems. Others know equal to or more about certain things than I and it is their mission in life to provide their expertise, just as it is my purpose to provide mine. We can’t be all things to all people, not even to ourselves.

Each of us has something important to the world. As we go along, we should share our knowledge, even if it hurts or makes us ashamed to admit our choices…especially to our children. For it is in the relating to others that we receive forgiveness and restoration. We may think we are the only ones who have committed our acts, but logic should tell us that with billions of people in the world, there are many others who have made the same mistake, if we want to call it that. I believe there are lapses in judgment or misdirections or experimentation, but they are only mistakes if we do not learn the lessons they come to teach. Learning the lessons is what primarily makes life such a wonderful experience.

Whether it is related to business or personal, whatever we do should be done from our heart. Conducting our affairs within an environment of compassion will be more worthwhile at the end of the day. Knowing we have made someone’s way a little lighter and brighter by just being courteous and helpfully supportive will add tremendously to our feeling of well-being to last a lifetime.

An example is a recurring situation between my neighbors. I live in a 9-story apartment building of 83 units. Most are occupied by one person living alone, and all of the residents are either disabled and/or seniors ranging in age from 18 to over 100. There is much variety in our ethnicities as well, but all are close to the same financial status.

On many occasions, holidays, birthdays, etc., we act like a big family. We also help each other during times of necessity; displaying much thoughtfulness. We share and recycle openly or anonymously; often by hanging a bag on someone’s doorknob containing goodies, clothing or other items.

But once in awhile tempers flare and harsh words are exchanged because someone feels that their charitable act was not appreciated in the way they felt it should have been. This causes the other residents to take sides, discuss the matter openly or in whispers, and generally creates an uncomfortable environment. These confrontations have even led to violence and police involvement.

This situation may sound insignificant, but when you consider it as a microcosm of events which take place in individual lives, in our workplaces, in government offices, even between countries, you can see how not doing things from the heart, but from the perspective of “what have or will you do for me,” can lead to great loss, division and disturbance of the peace, or cause war to erupt.

If we took the time to examine our motives, and if they lack true compassion, it would be better not to put forth the effort. If the cost of doing it wrong far outweighs the reward of doing it right, perhaps we should wait until we feel we are honestly doing it from our heart.

The best way to stop feeling sorry for oneself is to consider the plight of another. When the brightness of your self-pity is deflected from the mirror of your mind and you illuminate the path of someone else, you can stop squinting and open your eyes widely. Your light is no longer blinding.

But one of the most difficult things for a person to do is to turn attention away from themselves and devote it wholeheartedly to another when they themselves are confused or in pain. Being selfless is usually an act that requires a conscious decision, particularly if the other person is our equal or close to it.

We may sympathize with or be empathetic about someone’s pain. We may internalize or choose to ignore their suffering, but our reaction is based on how it will or does affect us. Regarding another becomes a personal matter of considering our own wellbeing first before promoting the caring focus toward the other person. We may eventually decide to put their need(s) before our own, but only after some thought as to what it will cost us.

It is not that we should dwell on our shortcomings as human beings, because we more often than not recognize our need to survive first and foremost, and usually make our determinations out of concern for our limitations. Therefore, in our interactions, it is normal to be well aware that we are not created to “be all things to all people.”

Sometimes I take public transportation in my travels, and yesterday was one of those days. I live in Sacramento, California and it was a perfect day; not too hot for July. The bus was crowded, particularly with mothers and their babies. Some of them were struggling with two or three toddlers, diapers bags, folding strollers, purchases and their surroundings. I watched with gratitude now that my children are grown, how far removed I am from all that multi-tasking to the extreme. And I wondered if all of those children were expressions of love.

An older woman in my building married a much younger man about a year ago. She had lived there for some years before the marriage, and all the neighbors were familiar and friendly. When her new husband moved in, everything changed. Seems that his lifestyle is incompatible with what the neighbors had established with her and a conflict ensued. Her expression of love has resulted in a legal separation and a restraining order she was encouraged very strongly to obtain in order for peace to return with her neighbors.

A very dear friend is 86 and her husband of six years is 103. They are a delightful couple who are very devoted to each other, and until recently, both have been very active. They walk everywhere together or alone, shopping, visiting, even going to the local pub to have a beer or two. He fell a few weeks ago and severely injured his back and neck. It is heartbreaking to see her in such emotional pain as she watches her expression of love in such a fragile state.

All of these expressions of love are different, but the same. What we expect from love should be wonderful, and it often is; but it can also be overwhelming, devastating and tragic. How we express love and how love is returned is unpredictable once we set it in motion. Even when we are watchful, love can cause our lives to spin out of control or make us retreat temporarily into a dark shell or cause us to want to escape from life all together. Love and our expressions of love are merely life, and life, like love, just happens to be another four-letter word.

Recently I watched the movie, Diary of a Tired Black Man, which was written, produced, and directed by Tim Alexander. In the movie it seemed that every reason for the black woman being angry was given. There were numerous statements by both men and women of various ages and statuses giving their opinions as to the causes of the “Angry Black Woman Syndrome.” Some of them made sense, but some were just guys and gals venting.

For example, the majority of both sexes thought it was the lack of a father figure in the home or in the young girl’s life that was the cause. For without a male’s expression of love, the girl would grow up to seek love in all the wrong places and didn’t know what to expect from a man. Therefore, when her relationship went sour, she became angry.

Another source of a black woman’s anger was purported to be listening too much to other female relatives or girl friends. Women were portrayed as sitting around being brainwashed about the limitations and downfall of men, and sharing in the anger of their peers. According to the men, male bashing was a primary pastime among women, and some of the women agreed that they traveled in “groups” to keep men at bay.

Other reasons included the idea that women just didn’t know what they wanted; or don‘t know how to “pick“ a good man. Choosing a loser was a source of her anger, and a much discussed thought was when women get a good man, they treat him with such disrespect and disdain until he eventually becomes turned off, resentful or even violent because of “her” behavior, and his reactions makes her angry.

“The woman doesn’t know her place as a man’s helper according to the Bible,” was another man’s reason. While the majority of men agreed that they expected women to “be available” mentally, emotionally and especially physically whenever her man needs her. It is her “job.”

As I watched and waited for the introduction of what I believe is a primary reason most black women are angry, there was only one small segment in the movie that dealt with infidelity. In the scene, three of the main character’s friends were chiding and encouraging him to seek comfort in the arms of another woman. From their perspective, it was the expected behavior of a “real man,” even if he was someone’s husband or significant other.

This lack of significant attention shown to infidelity shows how unimportant men, especially Mr. Alexander, thinks infidelity is to the attitude and behavior of women. I imagine that if women were polled, not only black women, but a cross section of all women who are or have been in relationships with men, infidelity would be at or close to the top of the list of causes for their anger. Men seem to have no idea what a turn-off, anger-provoking, disgusting feeling women get toward men who cheat on them.

To say that it is a man’s nature, or act as if it is no big deal, or expect forgiveness and understanding is an insult to a woman’s sensibilities. We may forgive the indiscretion, and remain and move forward in the relationship, but we never forget the hurt, disrespect or mental image of our man rutting in the arms of another woman. Mr. Alexander’s movie failed to discover, or even discuss with women, one true reason for why the angry black woman is angry.

I think men know why women are angry, but they continue to try and find reasons to take the light off themselves and shine it on us. And their disregard for our feelings about their actions is another reason which makes and keeps women angry…very angry.

http://roomfordebate.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/06/24/how-do-politicians-survive-sex-scandals/

Periodically we should take time to look at ourselves. It is good if this introspection takes place before our baser nature or beast is discovered by the world outside, as observed lately in so many celebrities, sports figures, politicians, preachers, and business men. Long before the world knows about our brokenness there are signs that we recognize, but refuse to consider. 

I believe that we are spiritual beings having a human experience; and in that humanity is located the lustful desires of the flesh. Be it drugs, alcohol, money, pornography, shopping, bullying, sex, food, gambling, lying, cheating, stealing…whatever; these kinds of things when out of control can take us down to less than decent, honest, kind, faithful and true human beings. We can become animalistic and dangerous to ourselves and others. We release the beast. 

The release of the beast can occur in the life of anyone: man, woman or child. All it takes is to slacken our sense of right and wrong and allow our self-control to become suppressed. Instead, we enjoy the power and allow the reward of our actions to go far beyond our thoughts of the costs or consequences. It is a sort of madness that takes over our normally contained character, and we think that “what’s done in the dark” will remain there, but it seldom does. 

In our perverted state, unless there is mental illness or injury involved, our conscience or spirit should kick in and signal an overload; tell us that we’ve gone too far. Tragically for some, suicide becomes a relief; for others, delving deeper until others notice initiates remedy. It is best if we can see ourselves for what we have become and seek help or put ourselves in check. This is the most effective and most lasting. 

Everyone has their personal beast or brokenness they must battle everyday. Billions of dollars go into drugs, therapy and ways of coping with, containing and restraining it. But if we view our beast from the perspective that it is a part of our nature, part of this human experience that we must not allow to overtake our minds, hearts and bodies, but learn to control within the confines of our physical nature, we can “be healed, be delivered, and be set free.” But too often, “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

For the last three years, I have been doing online social networking. To date I belong to over 250 different networks and groups. I also have three groups of my own: iAmerica, The Seniors of Society and the Cultural Arts Network.

Getting on the internet was a somewhat frightening idea for a 60-plus year old great-grandmother, but my late son, Tracy, would tell me almost daily, “Mama, you can do it.” If it had not been for me losing him too soon, and his encouraging me before he died, I doubt I would have ventured forth. But now that I have, I find great joy, fulfillment and a greater sense of worth for my efforts.

In the beginning, having little more than knowledge of word processing, I was limited in knowing the terms being used or how much of an education internet social networking would require or give me back. I knew how to ask questions and articulate my needs from my pre-retirement days as a secretary and administrative assistant. Soon I was blessed with knowledgeable people placed in my path who have helped me along each step of the way.

I have learned how to upload pictures, download information, and send comments and videos. I was soon adding friends, chatting back and forth, sharing stories and engaging in discussions. Now I am a blogger who is also learning the art of “tweeting.”

Through my friends from around the world, I have seen art, pictures and places of interest, heard and enjoyed music of every kind, and learned about many cultures, personal triumphs and tragedies.

Merging the medium of social networking with the magic of computer technology has given me international exposure of my business venture, The Oodles Company. The launch of my children’s book, The First Trip, and rag doll character, Bubba Oodle, garnered many congratulations and is bringing in online sales. It seems that Tracy was right…Mama is doing it!

Reflecting on the past can work in any relationship whether personal or business when situations which call for a crucial decision come up. If you haven’t had a similar experience, try being positive first. It could save you time, money and effort, and a good friend or business associate. A negative response may cause you to have to start all over and lose something or someone very valuable to your life. The following story is a good example of my theory. 

Yesterday I was visiting my boyfriend (yes, I have a boyfriend at my age, but that’s for another discussion), and he said something that “hurt my feelings,” and for a moment I froze. I say “hurt my feelings,” although no one can “hurt” your feelings. They are your feelings and you alone control how you feel. He could only direct my positive or negative response, which I also still control. 

Anyway, the super-sensitive, low self-esteem, jealous, ejective Paris pulled her head in like a turtle and began to sulk. That was my first reaction and the old me would have been plotting ways in her head to break away from the relationship. She would have become angry and mean, and probably would have said some rather nasty and unladylike things involving body parts and personality traits. 

But thank God I remembered a very similar situation from over 30 yeas ago in which the man wasn’t trying to hurt my feelings. He was sharing a decision he had made and an action he had taken which put me at the front of the line. (Ladies, there’s always a line, whether in fact or in fiction (such as the Playboy Channel). So, being the new me, my response became positive, and worked to draw me closer to him rather than to “throw the baby out with the bath water.” 

I would have preferred not to know about his actions, but the fact that he was willing to share them with me let me see that he trusts me enough to tell me something which could have caused a very bad reaction. I appreciated his trust, which deepened my feelings. 

If I had not have had that past experience, and recalled it, I would have made a very bad current mistake. My wish for you is to live life, love deeply, and laugh often.