FANTASY MAN

My work entails team work. Each job has a new team on which friendships are formed…some of them become life long pals and sometimes things happen, chemistry ignites. At this stage of life the latter is not the case for me but….

One recent team member was gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that’s just a gift to look at. Forty years ago gorgeous would have noticed me too. That is no longer the case. Oh…polite, professional ofcourse but nowhere close to anything igniting. I’m in that place Germaine Greer described as ‘having become invisible.’ Invisible has its benefits, believe me. It gives you permission to say what you want, to drop people with mind sets that drain your energy without a speck of guilt, to speak your mind unapologetically and when you encounter a young person who is open, pass along a few life short cuts.

I was given shortcuts and warning notices in my twenties. I heeded some……would that I had heeded more. Things like…”Don’t forget to have your babies.” I have many women friends who got so busy they forgot to do so and now heartbreakingly, regret it. “Keep working, it will never let you down.” was another dollop of wisdom afforded me years ago by a wise woman. Wow….you bet, even if that means doing the laundry. Taking action, however small, can shift your energy into something that will propel you forward. “Keep hurdling.” That came from Mom. Thanks Mom. “Be happy baby.” That came from my Mother in law at a moment when I was certain there was nothing to be happy about. She said it as an admonishment, meaning that happiness was a choice.

Anyway…here was gorgeous and I had an incredible time with him… in my mind. We danced, traveled, made love, he renewed me, I met his family (they were suitably appalled). Its so much less complicated not to have actually lived the fantasy. My musings then turned to how wonderful it will be for him to have a family when he finds the right woman, to enjoy a beautiful success and to not have had a bizarre, detour encounter with an older woman. Dreams can be so much less complicated than real life and just as much fun.

Well, almost.

Blue Pearl

Lonely World

Recently I had the chance to work with a great group of millennials. Smart, focused, disciplined, fun to be with, millennials. Over the course of our weeks together our conversations afforded me a glimpse into the world through their lens. My 20/30 something lens did not have the despair in its view theirs has. Terrorism was an abstract idea as was to large extent global warming, water was potable. Politicians exchanged ideas in heated rhetoric but it was done, certainly by comparison, in an air of civility. The news was…well, the news.
Considering the fractured nature of what we’re handing off to them I found their optimism impressive and their entrepreneurial moxie inspiring. All of them for instance had managed to successfully monetize their social media accounts. They exposed me to the invisible network of 24/7, accessible commerce right above our heads. Selfies in other words will likely translate into becoming their pensions. Who knew? Apparently I, unlike them, have been living under a rock.

All this self generated industry ofcourse meant that each of them spent a healthy percentage of their days in virtual space. As much as I admire (hell, envy!) their business savvy, I could not help but witness what to my mind were a series of small tears in the fabric of the collective weave. At the very moment in our work place for instance when my life rhythm would say to turn to your co-worker and chat about the news, a joke, a film…they would turn to their cell phones to snap a pic, send an instagram or snapchat. Not sure I can quantify what was lost in those moments but certainly eye contact, an exchange of body language, a visceral dealing with immediate human interaction. Virtual space has the illusion of connectivity but its actually an incredibly lonely place and because the only one you interact with in the moment is yourself, its accidental by product is narcissism. Human tactile-ness if that can be a word, is marooned. What, I wonder, is happening to the psyche when those tears happen? What is happening to their spirits when a next friend or date is chosen through a cute photo on a cell screen? Just as surely as there are incredible gains in efficiency, astonishing gains in social barriers being dropped…there are losses too.

I’m committed to learning more about the rapids of virtual space. I am however going to make a conscious effort before I forget how to, of reading nuance in body language as best I can, of noting the timbre in a human voice. I’m also going to make a special point of looking friends and strangers in the eye. See you there.

Blue Pearl

Irene

The other day my girlfriend Irene, whom I’ve known since I was 7, posted on FB that she had just left her daughter at college. Her daughter Caroline apparently figured out how to grow up in record time as it seems but a few years ago that she was born.
Irene’s life and mine have been curiously and wondrously intertwined. We first met because our Dads had careers in the same city overseas. We had our first sleepovers at eachother’s homes. Her dog Sally birthed our doggies Rex and King. (My Dad named them. Clearly he did not want to play favorites.)
Years later as a young working woman she and her husband Jamie lived in the same city as my parents, in yet another part of the world…so again their lives overlapped which was a great gift to my then empty nest parents. Later still, she and Jamie moved to the metropolis I was living in and just happened to fall in love with the church I frequented. Once again we were in not quite daily routine together but certainly in the rhythm of one another’s lives, deeply so as we were each negotiating the primal longings for the journey of Motherhood, struggling with fertility issues. We’d swap medical info, doctor’s solutions and inspirations. I’d miscarry. She’d miscarry. We’d bolster one another and each of us, try again.
Somewhere on this journey I was seated next to her husband over dinner. Sure I was banging on about being fearful my husband and I would never be able to have a baby and he said with absolute, calm reassurance that I would and that his wife would too. His confidence was startling, as if he’d hit reset on the “hope” button. He had not a shred of doubt and had plenty of patience to go with it. He just knew.
Sure enough in the fullness of time, in my case after 6 miscarriages, we each had our babies and if you can believe it only a month apart. Irene and Jamie went on to have a second child and it was that stunning daughter Caroline who they just dropped off at college.
Reading Irene’s post, was a moment of time travel. In a kind of time warp sandwich (between the post of Irene’s leggy beauty of an 18 year old Freshman and memory of Jamie’s reassurance over dinner) out of chronological order my mind’s eye was flooded with images… My pal swimming at 7 in the pool, her playing w her dogs, saw her at my parent’s overseas dinner table, felt her heartbreak when she again had lost a pregnancy, saw the long awaited for baby girl through various stages of growing up. Knowing that this happy ending story is now a part of her’s and Jamie’s life tapestry its hard to express the depth of joy I have for Irene. What a meaningful privilege it is to be witness to the fabric of another person’s life in all its chapters. I hope you have that experience too and many times over.
Life has patina at this stage. Layers of knowing, depth of perspective…a view. Sometimes that view is very beautiful. Happy college, Caroline!

Little Feet

I’m staying at my dear friends’ flat in NY. They’re on the west coast so in their absence, I get to take particular note of the beautiful family photos that grace their book lined walls. They are a testament to the fact that this is a family who has cherished one another, celebrated all things, cared deeply for eachother’s souls as life has changed around them. The comfortable décor has conversation inviting places to plop in, cozy chairs in which to curl up and read. The goodness nurtured in their home extends to the world around them in large and small ways. They perform small kindnesses on a regular basis and are exceedingly generous to their pals. I know, I’m one of them.

All this has put me in a family frame of mind. Lying in the guest room bed I’m awakened most mornings by the patter of little feet running back and forth on the floor in the flat above. That soundtrack inspires a movie that plays in my mind’s eye. I see him (her?) on the imperative mission to, perhaps, chase the cat or bolt anew to retrieve his favorite blankie. I feel the glee of discovery in his lively gate and envy his parents in this stage of their lives, when their child’s containable adventures for the most part, succeed. When they delight in their child’s explorations at the beach. I mean really, is there anything better than watching your young child play at the water’s edge? I hope they are soaking up the balm of this chapter when they as parents can literally see around corners for their child, still be a shield to harsh realities whilst he roams with confidence fueled by innocence through his uninterrupted Universe.

My own son’s footsteps are out in the world now…his adventures are not contained. I cannot see around corners for him. Its terrifying. Thrilling too when his successes both big and small come. I again thank all that is holy to have been granted the supreme privilege of being a Mom. The doctors lie when they tell you the umbilical chord was cut. It never was, never will be.

Blue Pearl

In Flight

I’m on a flight up the eastern seaboard over the remnants of a ferocious hurricane, the kind we’re seeing more of these days. Just as so many have been promising, the planet is changing in real time. Our time. Fortunately for me I’ve been afforded a window seat and I’m glued to the view. The pearl gray carpet of clouds beneath us is thick, angry with tiny knots and swirls, like soiled shorn, sheep’s wool. They’re like no others I’ve seen from these heights.

On the distant horizon monster shaped dragon clouds back lit by an electric orange sunset, lurch out of the gray blanket as if in final gasps before they sink back into their own hell.

I sit effortlessly traveling to my desired destination in dry, protected comfort. Yet there are fellow earthlings for all intents and purposes occupying the same space, suffering real trauma. Trauma from which I am spared. 30,000 feet directly below there are flooded towns, people in immediate need of rescue standing on their roofs, folks rowing away from their homes and all that’s in them scared, exhausted and facing an uncertain future.

As we bumpety bump along, life metaphors abound.

Would that in the midst of challenging times I would remember this. Elevate thought, seek the heavens, find the zen part that is traveling forward rather than stay stuck in the storm of life. Stay in but not of. Breathe. Keep my eye on the destination. Reset my compass as needed to stay on course.

Looking to the horizon and its dragons I know that monsters, monstrous thoughts, all that seems fearful in my past and future will sink into its native nothingness if I just keep to the journey. I need not go down with them. The sunset is a deeper orange now. Time moves quickly. There is not a moment of the now to waste.

Blue Pearl

Soul Sister

As a young teen my parents made good friends with a couple who lived half way around the world from us. They too had teenaged children and the Mom’s hatched a plan for a combined and extended summer vacation in the south of France. Fortunately, once together us kids also all got along famously. As a young adult my new turned old friend had the exceedingly good sense to marry a spectacular woman, Jo, who became my soul sister of 40 years. She died today. It was expected, damn cancer charged into her body a year ago and after a valiant battle she has succumbed.
Jo and I too all our adult lives have lived half a planet away from eachother but each of our careers made it so that we were able to get together with enough frequency to remain on the inside track of one another’s lives with the added advantage of an objective view. We saw eachother through the early career growing pains of articulating how we were going to make our mark. We shared the longing for children and the painful uncertainties of managing to have our babies. We literally wept tears of joy for the other as we each, in turn, experienced the grandest privilege of all…becoming Mothers. We heard the burden of our husband’s infidelities and white knuckle fears of raising our babies without our mates’ financial support. (I’ll hasten to add that we each were blessed with husbands who loved their children fiercely and in spite of our carrying the financial burden and divorces, we enjoyed enduring and deep familial ties with the fathers of our children. That will be for another posting.)

For all our similarities and synchronicities Jo had something I do not…an unparalleled ferocity of joy. Gusto everyone who knew or even met her, admired.
She had big dreams, pioneering visions that included the success of everyone she loved. She tirelessly carried the psyche of family members over psychological chasms on a regular basis. She never let go, never lost hope, never blamed, never quit even when brutally betrayed.

We bolstered each other through hard times, laughed at menopause when it came. Coached eachother through countless chapters of reinvent. Talked through our ever evolving understanding of God. Shared our deepest secrets. Nothing needed translation. I never imagined I would be heading into this chapter of life without her.

The day after I heard she had been diagnosed I got on the plane and flew 12 hours to see her. As I was walking to her in the hospital room, the look on her face as she realized it was me is something I will never, not ever, forget. We knew the end was coming but what the hell, we were in the moment, we had eachother. I feel we are still in the moment. I still have her. She still has me. Party on darling, magnificent, irreplaceable Jo.
Blue Pearl

Swimming with horses

Folks working in my industry have a gypsy life and I’m no exception. Sometimes its to places you can’t wait to leave, others its to places you find yourself dreaming of living in, others are just plain dreamy…like now. I’m on a Caribbean island for a month. Great, group of co-workers and as all of us are first timers here, this impromptu family is embracing as much of the experience as work will allow for and with gusto. One of the things it has done is to unlock the inner child in all of us. We’re jumping off cliffs, hiking to crocodile lakes, scuba diving, toasting beautiful sunsets, dancing to island vibes after dinner but today was a high light…swimming w horses. I don’t know about you but its been on my bucket list for a long time. My ride was Man Face. Feisty, young, we first rode on a canopied jungle trail of impossible greens, hanging roots, leaves the size of dining tables and breathed in the richest oxygen I’ve probably ever inhaled. Cue the mosquitoes…but it was worth it. On this particular ride, it was just my guide and me. Heading back to the stable along the coastline he asked if I’d ever gone swimming w horses? “May we?” I asked and next I knew we had hung a sharp left into the Caribbean bath waters and were heading straight for the horizon. With little coaxing our horses trotted, then seemed take flight as their hooves left the ocean floor. Our bodies were now suspended afloat over our trusty steeds and we held onto their manes to stay in line over them. The power of Man Face was churning beneath me…he was in his element. Time expanded as I tried to let every second of the experience sink deeply into my DNA. The water was soft, there was lightening in the distance and soft rain bounced like diamonds on the ocean’s flat, pearl gray surface all around us. Absolute heaven. It was one of those moments where you think if it all ended, I’d die happy. I’ll sleep well tonight and with any luck dream of swimming with horses. I wish the same for you.
Blue Pearl

Blog Virgin

Well, will have used to be a blog virgin as by the end of this entry I no longer will be one. I have a friend, a gifted, successful writer who wrote the terrifying words “Don’t make me ask you again to start a blog.” He’d thrown down the glove, so here goes.

I’m a middle aged, American woman at a moment of reinvent. At this point in my life everyone is either dead or grown up…for better and worse my life is again mine to do with as I please.  I’ve been married and divorced. I raised children I love more than life. I’ve buried my parents. I work now and then. I take adventures. I may or may not find a partner to share this chapter with. I have an embarrassment of riches when it comes to friends.  I’ve made great choices and more stupid ones than I can recall.

My intention is to share adventures and follies here as they happen, along with some remembrances, in hopes that some of them might resonate with you. Please tell me if they do. I have a modicum of celebrity in my chosen field…I suspect down the line I’ll draw the curtain on who I am. Not today. Hope to see you as I go down this road. Joy to all.

Blue Pearl