Are We There Yet?

It seems appropriate that what comes to mind these days is a the search for balance. In order to stay in each moment I need to have that balance. There is the balance of mind. To stray into the darkness or be blinded by the light is no help. And then there is the balance of the physical- too sedentary or too busy. Where is it that we find the calm of a steady pace? I am a responsible person. Have tried to do all that is required of me as a person on this planet. I recycle. Eat only a little red meat. Read the paper. Volunteer. Help friends. But there is the other extreme self destructive side- the too much caffiene, sneak a cigarette, eat a bag of potato chips, miss work deadlines kind of person that drives me crazy. Where is the balance? And instead of trying to find that balance I just feel hollowed out when those waves crash down on me.

The river creates its own weather system in the Spring and Fall. Every morning is gray and dismal, seeming to promise rain and cool. Then, as the sun rises and burns through the fog, there is this miracle of air and light that brings with it the warmth of the sun. Green fields near the river's edge steam as the first rays of sun hit their surfaces. The poplar leaves begin to quake, as the breeze picks up and the day truly begins. It's a slow start at the change of seasons. The water is brown as it turns over, sending creatures to the bottom in Fall and up to the surface as insects hatch each evening in Spring. It is such an elegant system. Far too complicated to possibly imagine. Every day I drive up the road along the river. Sometimes I think if I travel the road one more day, I'll shivel up with the sheer boredom of it all. And then I'll see an osprey dive for roadkill on the median, its head elegantly tilting to survey the landscape. Or the fields will have been haye...

I was asked what turning 50 means to me. Up to that moment, I hadn't given it much thought. Yes, there are the obvious signs- sagging butt, sore knees, gray hair and the AARP invitation- but somehow it didn't seem to mean anything much more than another day to me. The most likely reason for my nonchalance is that if I did think about it I'd be in bed, under the covers with a pillow over my head. What I do know is that 50 is my opportunity for a do-over or better said- a new beginning. A do-over implies I want to do it again. Nope. I have no desire to look back. Its done. 50 is the beginning of something new. It's my excuse to say no when I want to. As in, "Can you pay the bills tonight while I watch the ballgame?" "No", is what I'll say, "I'm going to yoga class." Now- in truth, I've been practicing this for years. Ever since our oldest child moved out, I've been testing the waters with great success. I got a good full time ...