Tag: 50th

challenges, perspective, Uncategorized

Growth

2chicksandapen

I’ve been thinking a lot of growth lately. Not physically growing like increasing my waist size. I’m thinking more like overall development in multiple areas of life.

Trying new foods for example. Over the past few months I’ve been wanting to increase my daily protein intake. I’ve dialed into various resources to get some hints and best practices. A few takeaways to share:

Compounding protein. Find what you like and increase the dosage. 3 ounces of ham? Just double it. Yogurt, double it. Maybe find a sugar-free Greek version you like. Maybe even a yogurt drink. Mix it up if you can. For me this was a growth area, learning new ways to meet my protein objective for the day.

Aging. Not always a fun topic to discuss for folks my age as there are many trials and tribulations associated with those around the 50-year-old mark. However, I’ve been learning new things. I’ve learned to enjoy road tripping in a RV which is in itself a skill to master. Then I flip the switch to my youngest child who is turning 18. The growth going into adulthood is so much different yet full of learning opportunities for both the parent and the soon-to-be adult. New jobs. Legal responsibilities. Taxes. Higher education. Bills. The list goes on and on. 

New environments. This summer I opted to play a new sport: pickleball. Never played before. Never watched a match in person or on TV. I fell in love with the concept of learning. Meeting new people. Stepping into a new arena of sorts. Challenging myself to be better. To learn new methods. To learn the lingo. All in all it was a great experience socially, physically, and cognitively.

Attire: we all have our basic go-to items. The favorite jeans. The sweats. The leggings. The favorite shirt. In the past few months I opted for a short in a color I absolutely never wear. I chose a couple of button-up shirts that are really not my style but definitely fun to wear on occasion. I mixed up a stable go-to outfit with something new and some old to change up the look a little. These little modifications represented growth to me. Oddly different growth than many may celebrate but for me it was growth in my own way.

Patience: mastering and remastering my patience muscles. This is serious growth. Dealing with kids who keep coming back for x, y, and z requires patience and patience on steroids sometimes. Adjusting to work / life balances as you hit the empty nester milestone. The golden years. The muscles that need flexing dealing with changes in partners / spouses or other complicated family dynamics. As we age we must undergo a serious re-haul of our patience muscles, more than once.

As a reflection person, I like to celebrate moments like these. Small as they may be to some, they were valuable enough for me to share on here. With that being said I challenge you to self-reflect and think about your own growth.

Have you challenged yourself to climb a new mountain?

Have you decided to take a trip of a lifetime to a new destination?

Have you decided to take a leap of faith and try something new?

Have you been thinking about betting on yourself? Go for it! You will never grow if you stay stagnant. You will miss opportunity after opportunity. Don’t just put a toe in the sand. Run into the ocean and get wet. Get wet in life. That’s when you grow!

adventure

Girls, Ghosts, and a Graveyard

2chicksandapen

It’s pumpkin spice season at Starbucks. The smell of fall in is in the air. Kids are back in school. Now it’s time to do dust off the craziness of summer and rush in fun fall festivities.

This weekend was something new. An adventure planned for the girl gang to step out of their comfort zone. Dining at a restaurant adorned with the name Six Feet Under. A creepy cemetery tour. Why not? This weekend seemed like a perfect time to have the shit scared scared out of me. Off we went, almost leaving the safety of suburbia for the sin of the city.

Well, I almost went. The others actually went. The first warning came from the driver. “I must warn you I’m willing to drive but I drive like a blind person.” Hmmm. Sounds perfect for this fall adventure. Unfortunately Chick 1 had to bail to catch a flight on a whim, but no fear Chick 2 was ready willing and able to jump into this spooktacular adventure. As the torch passes from one scared Chick to one unphased Chick, you will see how this wild tale unfolds.

I will be waiting in anticipation to read the conclusion of the graveyard tales with you. I may or may not be chasing ghosts in my sleep until then….

Chick 2 taking over. We arrived on the misty morning at the front gate of Oakland Cemetery. The forecast called for rain and clouds, which in most cases might have been a disappointment, but in this case it fit perfectly with our funereal outing. We made a brief visit to the gift shop which was filled with laughably morbid treasures like Southern funeral cookbooks and sympathy cards. After breezing through, we started our tour.

It had been about a decade since I had been to Oakland. And before that, I had visited in 7th grade. This was an old old cemetery even then, so you can imagine the cracked walkways, faded headstones, and mossy ground it is filled with now.

Our guide was a quirky woman who had led tours there for many years. Our tour was focused on stories of women buried there. We walked gingerly between the rows. Simple stones to elaborate tombs and everything in between. We saw the resting places of celebrities like Margaret Mitchell and Kenny Rogers (not a woman, but his fame made him a detour). We heard about people who weren’t famous but shared great love stories, made important contributions like leading the first black PTA, or just did notable things. We noticed stones and little elephants piled on grave markers. The elephants were on a stone that marked the resting place of a woman who took in many orphans. We learned that elephants are some of the only animals that look after orphans in nature. Interesting.

There were so many symbols on the graves. Circles stand for eternity. Closed books and open books. Swords and pillows. The lambs on the graves of babies. Each with a different meaning behind them. Intricate stories for the lives represented. An attempt to capture what was most important about them in life, or even their hopes in death.

Different sections for different kinds of people. A section for Confederate soldiers. A Jewish section. An African American section. Interesting how cemeteries reflect the segregation in life at times.

Since we mostly looked at the graves of women, I noticed how often the women in the cemetery were remembered only in relationship to what they did for others. One man had many accomplishments listed, author, Southern gentleman, and so on. On the other side of the stone, the woman was listed as “loving and supportive wife.” Is that all we remember her for?

It also made me wonder what I would want to have on my tombstone. What would I want my legacy to be?

My group and I wandered in the dreary drizzle. We meandered. We took photos. We smelled plants. We asked questions and just took in the ambiance. A sunny day wouldn’t have fit, to be honest.

We capped it off with a delicious lunch and a surprise pastry and coffee treat. All in all, a great day of learning, friendship, and both making and thinking about memories. How would you like to be remembered?

celebrations, dare to be different

50 and a half

2chicksandapen

Year fifty has been nifty thus far or maybe shifty or maybe drifty.

I started out with such big plans for my big celebration year. The planning even involved the year leading up to the big 5-0. Some items are crossed off the list. Some are sitting on the sidelines for now. 

No matter what big plans were dreamed up it seems like I’m really just seizing the moments with a new appreciation on life. The not waiting to do. The not wondering what others think. The not finding reasons to not do while I can do. The biggest reflection of that was my summer of 2022.

I planned. I shifted. I completely changed things up. I added. I deleted. I winged it all. I took chances that sometimes I wouldn’t because my stable brain would say no. When I reflect I sigh big and am ever thankful. Summer of 2022 was about new kinds of risks. New to me. Some scary. Some just different.

Appreciative of the the time. The places. The people. The experiences. The spontaneity. The memories. The knowledge. All of it. I grew by leaps and bounds and stretched to new limits. I had to trust and rely on myself more than ever.

From a random concert experience with my 83 year old mom to a cross country trek with my youngest to the Pacific Northwest. I have written about many stories but not all stories. During these glorious days there have also been sad and trying days.

Loss of time with loved ones. Challenges that many will never face emotionally. Financial investments that went down the toilet. Let downs in many forms. Takers trying to suck joy from your being. Balancing work deadlines among the chaos. Also those casting judgment for living my best life. 

The good. The bad. The ugly. Everything in between and tangled in my web of life. Everyday we have a choice to live life to the fullest. Everyday we have a choice to move or sit idle. Everyday we have a choice to do or not do. I may do more than others but it’s always a choice. A choice I make. One day I may be confined to a chair or couch. That day I won’t have a choice. Today I have the choice thus you won’t find me wasting time on the coach wondering about what ifs. I will just be off doing.

As I hit 50 and one half I think I am settled in who I am. Who I will become. Who I won’t be. The quiet confidence of being me is what I enjoy most about flipping the calendar to the year 51 and beyond. I get to choose my adventure. My timelines. My companions.

I get to choose where to spend my money. I get to choose my hobbies. I get to decide what is next for me. I can support the dreams of others if want to. Some may judge. Others may be envious. Some might sit by and watch from their couch. That’s okay. It’s not their story. It’s my story.

I write and live my story in the public eye. That is my choice as well. One day my writings will be all that is left when my story stops being written. But just because the writing stops doesn’t mean the living won’t continue. My stories will continue to breathe life to others. They may even spur an adventure bug in those who read them. My photos. My words. My spirit will be carried on to others virtually.

Purposefully designed. A seed of sorts planted in the World Wide Web. My farming of life online. From seed to flower in my own special way. Fifty has been a great year to reflect, adjust and appreciate where I am. Who I am. What potential is still untapped. 

I’ve paused enough this year to see inside me for who I am. Now the fun will begin. Again. And again. Until the end. Signing off at 50 and a half. Looking forward to years 60-66-72-80-85-90-94-95-99. All of these numbers have significance. Let’s see which ones I hit.

adventure, dare to be different

B is for Burlesque

2chicksandapen

Today was a new adventure with friends. An introduction to Burlesque dancing. A fun way to get in a little fitness and channel one’s inner dancing queen.

We had boas, gloves and dressed in all black. The first 4 steps seemed easy enough. Then another four. And another four. Would I remember them all? We practiced each segment a few times. Added music. Strung the steps together, until it formed a dance.

Such a fun process. Lots of giggles and plenty of firsts for each girl in the class. The instructor was fun and mixed in well with the group. The music helped the flow of linking the steps or at least it did for me.

We even had an ad lib portion at the end to express yourself any way you like. That ended up being pretty interesting. When the evening began I had no expectation. I was set to embrace the opportunity. It was worth it. I would recommend this adventure to both males/females. Anyone can learn burlesque. Let me say that again or louder for anyone reading this. You can do burlesque. It is for every shape, size, gender person. You just need to embrace the movements.

When you need something fun to do, something out of the ordinary, look for a dance class. Maybe you are more conservative and would like to start with ballroom. Maybe you are more of a hip hop kind of person. Whatever your fancy, take a lesson. See how you fare. 

If you never try, you will never now how much fun you can have. Life is about living. Remember to step outside of your comfort zone to try new things. I for sure never thought I’d be honing my skills as a burlesque dancer, let alone writing a blog about it.

We might have even thrown on a wig or two to add some flair to the big show. Ah, wonder what my next adventure post will entail…

 Until next time.

adventure

Bricks & Alpacas

2chicksandapen

Bricks remind me of strength. Bricks are the basic foundation for many buildings and / or empires. Bricks would be the last thing I thought about carrying around today yet I am so excited I had such a great opportunity with a brick.

You see, the brick is representative of a challenge from my adventure book. As odd as the instructions appear when read, the more fun that can be had ahead. How one interprets the assignment leads to the adventure itself. We started by naming our bricks. Mine was named Flash as a brick doesn’t move fast. Another was named Richard or Dick for short. Chase was named as well as Ash. Little Ash has a backstory. She could be short for Ashley or Asher making her gender neutral. Also bricks are represented in fireplaces as is ash. Brittani with an I was named in honor of Brittney Spears and the brick she is. Below is the first outing with our brick family as we set out for the day of fun adventures.

The girl gang is loaded with bricks today. A weapon? A stepping stone? An item to build with? For today it’s about the adventure and memories we create with our bricks. A strengthening of our relationships. Our travels start by car so the bricks are packed in a bucket with tissue paper for protection as well as flair. Off to eat brunch we go. Will the restaurant give us a high chair for our little brick family?

The bricks were involved in photos ops and shenanigans as the day progressed. From poses at the restaurant to a visit to an Alpaca farm. There was never a dull moment.

The bricks will find their final resting place in a pasture on our family farm while we head off to make more memories without the weight of the bricks. The giggles will be present for years to come as we pass by the bricks in their new spots on the farm.

As I close out this brick post i’ll now leave you this smiling Alpaca who posed for me on our field trip. This gem of an animal smiled bright with its stained teeth and grass-colored face. It was so funny to share this creative pose. So soft and fluffy yet such a hot mess up close.

What started out as a brick adventure ended up including an educational agri-tourism component allowing me to learn about Alpacas. It was a pretty cool experience and I won’t ruin the surprise by giving away the details of my Alpaca experience but I will share some photos for fun.

Because who doesn’t like a creature with hair as cool as this?