Speaking of Attitude

Harmony in Life, my next door gift shop.

Below was my horoscope, and Elissa's, on 14 September. It's not only aging and attitude, as I wrote in my last blog, it's "attitude" across the board! This is from "The Daily Om," an online meditation site Elissa sent me.

September 14, 2011
A Positive Shift
Pisces Daily Horoscope
You may be focused on a misperception of lack and feeling gloomy today. Perhaps you are feeling down about your finances or struggling with negative thoughts. If you have been seeing the glass half-empty rather than half-full lately, you might benefit from choosing to see your situation from a different perspective. While struggles will happen occasionally, you can get through them easily if you adopt a positive mind-set. By understanding that you can choose how you want to feel in each moment, you can learn to change your mood by using the power of your thoughts and intentions. Even if nothing has changed about your situation, you can feel happier and more in control today.

When we choose our mind-set, rather than allow ourselves to be influenced by our circumstances, we empower ourselves. In the midst of difficulties, it is easy to allow our frustration to turn into pessimism. If we can remember that pessimism only makes a situation worse, we can choose to focus our thoughts on what's positive about our circumstances. While this may not solve all of our problems, it can help us feel better while we deal with our situation. If we consistently focus our thoughts on what’s positive about our situation, we eventually begin to experience only the positive—and a negative situation becomes a positive one. Concentrate on what is positive about your life today, and you will create a more positive reality.

In Ukraine, where pessimism reigns, and I understand why, having a positive attitude made all the difference in modeling and mentoring positive behavior for social change from the bottom up. It was as if I had the opportunity, being a PCV, to put ideas into practice, theory into reality. And it worked, and still does, most of the time. It 's attitude, and it cuts across cultures, age, and even to a big extent, the circumstances of our lives. It sounds facile sometimes, when so many people are struggling to make it through another day, make it through life itself. But the alternative--negativity, pessimism, woe is me--doesn't work either. I remind myself of this every day, when things seem tough, politics gets me down (and it has lately), and the hope for change seems dim. It begins with "empowering" ourselves; then we can empower others.

Aging and Attitude

Yahoo photobucket images: upper right by Stacnjo and lower right (hands) by Seanchai.
Aging is like the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s what we see when a difficult project is finally nearing an end, a conflict is drawing to an inevitable conclusion, a dream is floating into a bright blue sky.

It’s what every human being faces from the moment of birth to the end of life, the final dying of the light. Most of us boomers and older long-retired are raging against it, in positive ways, like taking care of our health, eating right, exercising, being with friends and family, having an upbeat spirit. Most of us don’t feel as old as we are or as old as we look. As Jimmy Buffet put it, “Let those winds of time blow over my head, I’d rather die while I’m living than live while I’m Dead.”

But aging is not for the feint of heart, a friend said to me, as we silently

contemplated, without saying it out loud, our arthritis, osteoporosus, waist spread, high cholesterol, sore hip and other aches and pains.

It's all attitude. I think there’s an energy and a freedom that comes with age, not to mention some experience and wisdom about life. I myself tend to go light on “the wisdom” factor, and a little bit more heavy on the “life’s a daring adventure” side. When I was a PCV in Ukraine I used to say “It’s amazing where life takes you, if you take life as it comes.” I still think so, even at this age, even as I walk toward that bright light.

My daughter Elissa, my new fitness and workout partner, reminds me to take it easy! Yes, I need these reminders. When we got to our first fitness class at St. Joe’s, her new parish, we picked up a poem, more a prayer, left by the young fitness instructor. It’s another reminder that our perceptions about growing old make a difference.

A Blessing for Old Age (from the Sacred Art of Living Center)
May the light of your soul mind you…
May you be given a wisdom…to see this beautiful time of harvesting…
May you be given the gift of meeting the eternal light and beauty
that is within you.May you find a wonderful love in yourself for yourself.

PS We are still going to that exercise class, every Tuesday and Thursday mornings, us and about 20 beautiful aging and ageless women. A wonderful, friendly, enthusiastic group. Next up, joining the Y and taking water aerobics and using the gym. On a roll.

Toledo Remembers 9/11

Photo: St. Patrick’s Church interiors with special Firefighters' memorial (upper left); Bagpipers, all firefighters, who played mournful tunes and taps; a Toledo Firefighters' Museum truck; full moon and sunset over Sylvania at the end of the day.

The 10th anniversary of the unthinkable, the unimaginable. The terrorist attacks in New York, at the Pentagon, on the fields of Pennsylvania, the heroics of Flight 93. I still find it surreal. I remember watching on TV, horrified, as those planes headed straight for the Twin Towers, in real time, not virtual, not reporting, in real time, and people flying out of windows, first responders going in and never coming out, the towers collapsing, people in shock covered in white ash like statues.

This 9/11 I went to The Historic Church of Saint Patrick with Elissa to attend a special Firefighters Mass. This is a church whose steeple was struck by lightening and destroyed in 1980. The Toledo firefighters saved the rest of the church, and the steeple was later rebuilt. A grateful St. Patrick’s built a beautiful firefighters’ memorial inside the cathedral, and continues to support the unique Firefighters Museum. A partnership made for 9/11 remembrances, the secular and the sacred.

Toledo firefighters and their families and friends filled the church and participated in the Mass. As part of the commemoration they rang a bell three times, a firefighters' tradition, to remember those who gave their lives. It made me think of Hemingway’s “Ask not for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for you.” It tolls for those who died and for those who remember. America will never forget.

TGIF: Making traditions

Great grandson Philip, lime green cast conspicuous, plays hide-and-seek under the new umbrella his Gran E gave him!

Another Friday rolls around, another week, and Elissa, Julia and Philip come for dinner at Casa de Mama. It's becoming a tradition, this four-generation, end-of- the- week gathering. We have pizza, the usual, and Philip plays with the treasure box, one-handed, discovering the new toys left behind just for him by cousins Josh and Kyle. He loves surprises.

Granddaughter Julia gets here first so we have a chance to catch up on her work (she works for a large nursing home complex) and what's going on in her life. At 23 years of age, she is a great mom and conscientious worker, and I'm learning how knowledgeable and thoughtful she is about current events, too. She's also thinking about the future and what will be best for her son Philip. Next year he'll be five and starting kindergarten. She wants good schools for him and lots of positive motivation and activities. She’s getting a big promotion and a pay raise, and she feels good about that, if cautious about what the pay raise means and what the new management duties will be like. She is a steady force and role model in our lives.

At the end of the day, we bask in the light of a beautiful sunset and a stunning full moon rise due East. The rain and grayness have dissipated. Philip runs about seemingly unencumbered by his cast, up and down stairs, around the backyard, jumping over logs, plunging here and there. Our fearless active boy! It's a nice end to a lovely day. It feels good to enjoy the moment, to create new family traditions, to bask in the glow of nature and the energy of our brave Philip. TGIF is taking on new meaning!

My Great-Grandson Philip: What a Trooper!

My great-grandson Philip, four years old, fell and broke his wrist a few days ago. The next day, his wrist bandaged awaiting a cast, duct tape holding it on, Philip was at our family Labor Day cookout climbing a tree and dangling from branches as if nothing had happened. “Look mom, one hand!” Invincible.

Philip is a rough and tumble little guy. He loves jumping into the fray, wrestling with the boys, running fast, boxing along with a video game. Watching him box is amazing, the way he punches, jabs, moves. The natural! Physical, fearless, and also very smart, articulate, charming, sweet. The cutest little boy going. Just ask his Gran E, my daughter Elissa, whose biggest fear is that Philip really will become a boxer when he grows up. She's trying to interest him in soccer.

Yesterday, Philip was back in the hospital to get his cast on. Lime green, like a popsicle. His mom Julia, my first grandchild, says he was "very brave." She's so proud of him. We’re not surprised. Nor will we be surprised if he’s boxing, climbing, running and wrestling as hard as ever, or playing with all the cars and toys in his great-grandma’s treasure box with just one hand (his right hand, and he’s a lefty!). What a trooper our Philip is!

My seasonal wreaths

To everything there is a season (my favorite verse from Ecclesiastics), and that’s true of my wreaths, too.

I have an old wreath that I change with the seasons. Same basic reed and sticks wreath I’ve had for years. It’s now the welcoming wreath on the white back porch door up the old steep steps with the peeling grey paint to my 2nd floor Sylvania apartment.

This summer I added silk blue and purple hydrangea, red poppies, sunflowers, some white daisies, and a large pink bow. Now that Fall just blew in, the weather has cooled, the days are shorter, the breezes are gently swaying the changing foliage of our trees, so many trees here in Sylvania, I took out the summer flowers and added red, orange and gold leaves, bright yellow marigolds, and a green bow (photo above).

My love of the changing seasons returned during my time in Ukraine. It was one of the reasons I decided I could make the move from Florida, which I loved, up to Sylvania, Ohio. Florida has its seasons, but they are subtle; the palm trees and bougainvilla are always in bloom year round. It’s fantastic for the 6 months of winter, and I relished it while I lived there.

Up here, up North, like in Ukraine, the seasons are distinct and bold. Fall means winter isn’t far behind, but it remains one of my favorite seasons. I love the changing foliage and how the flowers brighten before they die. It's as if a photographer has saturated them with color, dazzling, eye-popping color. The painter of the universe, the transcendent goddess, letting us know she is there. I think Loren is with her now.

I feel an empathy with this season, too: I am afterall in the autumn of my life. Winter’s not far behind, but I’ll enjoy this northern autumn for as long as I can, watching the birds fly south, the squirrels gather acorns for the winter, and the dying of the light as winter whiteness slowly descends.

Labor Day Weekend, Sweet Emotions

Had a Labor Day family picnic with a sleeping Chase, plus a Car Show in Sylvania. I think it's the "Sweet Emotions" that get to you at these times. At the dinner it was 4 generations together. At the car show: an old Chevy named "Sweet Emotions" and a 1960s Oldsmobile that reminded me of my Dad. And for Elissa? A Challenger, what else!


We had a family picnic for Labor Day weekend; we moved it from Case de Mama to Michelle’s because she has a big yard and cool house, while my backyard is in full sun all day, and the weather was hot and muggy. My grandsons, cousins Tony and Josh, put up the new grill I bought, and got a good fire going. They were our chefs. Barbecued turkey sausage, hotdogs and pork chops with lots of sauce, and all the trimmings to top them off. We invited my neighbor Judi, another babushka, to join us. We were four generations! We spent lots of time watching baby Chase, who wouldn’t wake up from a deep sleep no matter how many of us held him, how loudly we talked, or how boisterous we were. The little cutie slept through the whole thing. Loud noises, music, constant chatter, endless conversation, the banging of pots and pans. While Chase slept, we ate, complimented the chefs, and enjoyed Michelle’s yummy pudding and whipped cream dessert, which she assured us was low-calorie. This family togetherness is good for the soul, but it’s not so good for my waistline. As we gave blessings, I couldn’t help but recall some fantastic "shashlik" (шашлык) dinners in Ukraine, one of the best ever when I was in Slavsky in the Carpathian mountains with Olga and Tonya.

On Monday night, it was just my daughter Elissa and me. The weather had cooled way down overnight; it felt like the first day of Fall. We had dinner, chatted, counted our blessings, then went to a car show. Yep, a car show. It’s what Elissa loves to do these days. She’s in love with cars, especially Challengers, which I unfortunately have a hard time distinquishing from any other cars. But Elissa got her car fix, and I got to spend time with Elissa and have a bit of an adventure. I must admit these cars--old, antique, and race cars--are meticulously preserved and look fantastic. They gleam, beam, and scream. They carry you back to old times with "sweet emotions," like seeing a 60's Oldsmobile convertible did for me, my Dad's favorite car.

How grateful I am to share a Labor Day weekend with my family, to gather four generations, to commemorate and remember, to experience something special with Elissa. So summer turns to Fall and the seasons change again, and we change and grow with them. Sweet Emotions.