Maiden, Mother, Crone by mary elizabeth

eleven stages of womanhoodOn Friday I’ll be fifty years old.  Sounds a bit extreme, doesn’t it?  I know.  Show off.  But – there it is.  And you know what?  I really can’t even think of anything interesting to say about it, other than that.  I mean – I’m certainly feeling proud of myself for hitting it clean and sober.   Oh and guess what – I quit smoking at the start of this month so I’m starting this new decade a non smoker. I haven’t been able to say that since I turned ten.  And I figured out that I’ve lived a third of thesePacific-Ocean-Sunset fifty years within listening distance of the Pacific Ocean.  That’s kind of cool.  I have teenaged children now.  That’s also cool and my favorite age so far by far.  Favorite age to parent, not be.  Anyhow – basically all’s well.  I am moving from mother to crone with a smile.

mother treeSo – what am I going to do to mark this milestone?  On the social end, I’m going to have dinner with friends on my birthday and I’m taking a trip to Monterey with my family the weekend after.  And I always make a big ass deal about my birthday so my poor co-workers have no choice but to take notice.  But on a personal note, I’m going to get up early and run down to the beach and find a nice spot and just sit and connect with the universe – rain or shine.  I’m also going to try and come up with some sort of list of reasonable goals.  There’ll be some big stuff like buying a home and lots of little stuff like reading more and cleaning out my shoe closet.  But mainly – I want to stay close to the people that matter most to me.  If I have any regrets from maiden and motherhood, (and I mean real regrets, not little ones like forgetting to get out the St. Patrick’s day decorations that one year….) they are centered on people I miss.  I let a lot of sweet, dear people fade out of my life for no reason other than being too self-centered.  I’m feeling so much more able to love now.  I’m not willing to let that happen so maiden mother cronefrequently anymore.

I’m definitely excited to see what the next fifty years are going to bring.  And that alone is a happy thing.  Meaning – I’m not looking forward with fear or frustration or ennui or dread or anything negative.  I feel like I have choices, if not right this instant, then in the not too distant future.  At least, I feel like I can go ahead and set goals for myself and dream up fun things to do.  I think I’m going to like being a crone.

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December Saints by mary elizabeth

This past Monday was the feast of Saint Sabas.  He spent his life just pretty much wanting to be alone and never quite pulling it off.  A bunch of the faithful even followed him out to his hermit cave wanting to be hermits with him.  Although denying him his solitude and obviously missing the point, the presence of these supplicants credits our saint with founding the oldest monastery on the planet.  And much more popular and well known – this past Tuesday was the feast of Saint Nicholas.  Hailing from Smyrna, he was a friendly bishop who once tossed some gold coins down the chimney of a family in need.  And the rest, as they say, is…well…”history”.  I wonder what he’d think about all the kooky customs that have evolved since that act of kindness.  I wonder what the present day bishop of Smyrna thinks, for that matter.   I think we may have strayed a bit off track.  But then again, the holidays do bring us together and I guess that’s a good thing whether or not we feel compelled to decorate like crazy and spend money we don’t really have on gifts for people who may or may not be in need.

As I’ve said before, if it weren’t for the holidays I might not ever see my family at all.  Like Saint Sabas, I think I’d rather be alone.  But of course I won’t be and though I’m 99.9% sure my family and I won’t be credited with starting a monastery, I’m equally sure I won’t regret so much as one minute I spend with the people I love this holiday season.

Sunrise, Haircut by mary elizabeth

The other night, my daughter and I were discussing fake hair pieces which reminded us of the hair piece that came with her American Girl doll’s Irish ensemble.  This was a “my twin” doll, who she named Siobahn.   I said, “Gosh – has anyone seen Siobahn lately?” and we immediately thought of  the song “Siobahn” by the Tossers.  From this little exchange, my daughter came up with what might be a fabulous idea: outfits and sets for the American Girl dolls of teenagers who don’t want to get rid of them but have, of course, outgrown them.  But these outfits will have a dark twist.  For example: a groupie set, a drug and alcohol experimentation set, a pregnancy scare set.  They could come with all sorts of fun accessories like tattoos, piercings, trashy outfits.  And for the historical themes, maybe the Salem witch trials? The Manson family? I think it’s a smashing idea, and just like our little girls couldn’t really be historical heroines like their dolls were, maybe they’ll be satisfied living out these teenage fantasies on plastic replicas, too.

Speaking of hair, yesterday marked four years of sobriety for me.  And you know what that means?  Time for my annual haircut!  Yes – once a year I actually get a haircut and use my sobriety date to mark it.  I like that this special day comes right as the holidays begin in earnest.  (The sobriety part – not the hair cut – although who doesn’t want pretty hair for the holidays?)  There’s so much to look forward to as the year winds down and I am so ready for new opportunities and attitudes!  I’m excited to end the year with celebrations and food and gifts and begin 2012 with a clean slate and healthy hair!

“F” Words by mary elizabeth

Monday was United Nations day.  I really should write an informative little essay on the United Nations, its history and relevance today.  But that, dear reader, wouldn’t be my style.  How would I get my whiny complaints in if I just informed you about the United Nations?  Impossible.  So – happy United Nations day!  Now, let’s move on.

I guess unity and connection would be remotely related to United Nations day.  How are you at maintaining connections?  I’m not exactly batting a thousand right now, but that’s given me an opportunity to focus on the people and things in my life which are really important to keep.  Relationships, whether they be friendly, romantic, organized or professional, take work and consciousness.  I am truly trying to be present for as many moments as possible during the day. The longer I’m sober, the more I find that if I really try and live in reality with all its emotions and chores, the better off I am.  As I try to maintain some sort of balance, the useless weights become more apparent and I can lighten my load.  In other words, “Focus, Mary Elizabeth!”

5 Thanks by mary elizabeth

So – I’ve taken some time off from personal blogging because I got sick of the sound of my own voice.  But – it’s not bothering me so much today, so I thought I’d reel one out on the beloved subject of gratitude.  I know, I know – super boring.  Lately, I’ve tried to boil it down, though.  For what, exactly, am I grateful?  I mean, some of the things I try and list to the universe on a daily basis really belong on a “I wish I felt more grateful for:” list.  Like, seriously, who’s truly grateful for your boyfriend every day?  How about your job?  You get the point. Knowing the things for which we ought to be grateful is a far cry from being grateful.  So – I’ve decided to list five things for which I am TRULY GRATEFUL.

  1. my children’s’ health, intellect and good looks
  2. my sobriety
  3. coffee
  4. the CD player in my car
  5. good friends

For those of you wondering. I left cigarettes off the list not because I don’t love them more than anything else in the world and have found them to be the only reliable constant in my life time and time again, but because I’m actually aware that they’ll eventually kill me. So – off the list. Then, of course, there’s home facial wax without which I couldn’t live either, but it’s expensive and messy and endless. Off the list! Those things listed are the ones I can feel grateful for all the time without any catches. So, I’m curious. In the words of my friends at Café Gratitude, “What are you grateful for?”

Big Picture by mary elizabeth

I’ve been feeling extra anxious lately.  And a little angry, too.  Anxiety’s an old friend but anger is something I would normally leave to the experts.  I recently had one of those flukey experiences that, although completely accidental and in no way indicative of the norm, confirm all of one’s paranoia and suspicions about the hostility of the universe.  Told you so, universe!  Anyhow – now that the initial shock and humiliation have started to wear off, I feel a tad miffed.  And I’m starting to lose my patience with some on-going frustrations in my life, too.  But – I don’t really know how to be angry and I certainly don’t want these external factors to influence my actual life, so I’m trying to find the courage to let it all go to a recently proven to be untrustworthy universe and get on with it.

My life is pretty good right now, to be honest, and all evidence points to its just getting better. When I can relax for a couple of seconds, I’m actually enjoying it.  Normally – every time a little stability comes along, I get restless and start making changes. Chaos feels natural; tranquility makes me anxious. Whatever…I’m trying to rock it a little differently now. Maybe feeling a little more outraged and a little less victimized is a part of the whole picture. The whole big picture of my life.  Or just some more monkeyshine.

Fort Bragg Prison Blues by mary elizabeth

Three of the people very closest to my heart just hate it here: my daughter, my boyfriend and my dear friend Kerry. I don’t really blame them and all three of them make valid points. It is a very small town and there’s absolutely nothing to do if you’re between the ages of 12 and 72. You can’t swing a dead cat without hitting someone you wish you didn’t know. Everything’s always closed. On those rare occasions when the sun comes out, it’s too windy to enjoy it. Anything that goes wrong, they blame on poor old Fort Bragg.  And you know what? I’d like nothing better than to jump on that crabby little band wagon with them.

But that wouldn’t help my “bloom where you’re planted” philosophy at all. Mainly because this philosophy is a relatively new one and I am clinging to it most tenuously. Dissatisfaction with the hand I’ve been dealt is a hard habit to break.  For one thing, you can’t feel sorry for yourself anymore.  I mean, you can’t be the victim of circumstances you embrace. You can’t cry over milk you’re happy you spilt. I have to tell you, though, thinking this way has made my life so much more bearable for the forty to forty-five minutes a day I’m actually able to master it. Try it! My three little nay-sayers are beyond help, but that’s okay. Not only do I love them anyway, they make me look so spirtually superior! Life is good.