Time for some introspection and reflection …

Every so often I take stock of where I am in my life, take a look at what I’m up to and think about whether or not it’s still working for me. I check in with myself to see how I’m doing. I assume that I’ve pretty much been on the right track because this has never resulted in my changing course dramatically. But, from time to time, I have taken some detours along the way as a result of these explorations.

I’m only mentioning it because, in her most recent Sunday Paper, Maria Shriver wrote about the importance of knowing our “why” — understanding why we do what we do, what brings meaning to our lives.

Despite it being a long weekend in Canada, I was chained to my computer the whole time, working on a

If at first you don’t succeed …

There was a lovely story in Sunday’s New York Times. I laughed out loud when I got to the part where the author wrote, “my mother used to track me down in the event of my untimely murder; lord knows she has imagined plenty of gruesome ends for me. I can’t tell you the number of times that public safety officers showed up on my doorstep in college because I hadn’t returned her calls swiftly enough.”

She could have been writing about my mother.

While she never went so far as to call the police, she did manage to convince a friend of mine to become a search party of one. She (my mother) was convinced — because I’d been working late and was alone in the office — that I’d either been attacked, killed and shoved into the coat closet or was lying helpless, bloody and injured at the bottom of the elevator shaft, the result of an accident involving snapped cables. Yes,

Let them eat cake and plenty of it …

Yesterday was my mom’s birthday. I wish the photo was that recent, but both she and her twin sister, with whom she is celebrating, have both passed.

In fact, it goes back quite a while, because my mom moved to Toronto in 2000, after my aunt died. And when this was taken, she still lived in Montreal.

Clearly, they were surprised and happy. They loved birthday parties, everyone’s parties, and particularly their own. And most of all, they loved birthday cake. So I fully expect they had plenty of cake yesterday. And, if my

In praise of older women (and men) …

I’ve got aging on my mind right now.

There’s a birthday in my not too distant future. And everywhere you turn somebody’s bringing it up (age, not my birthday.) The presidential race seems to have become about Marco Rubio being too young, Bernie Sanders being the oldest candidate ever and how, to all the experts’ surprise, Hillary Clinton’s not connecting with young women.

One of this year’s Screen Actors Guild Award nominees is nine years old. Had he also been nominated for an Oscar he

Life, tortillas and Antonio Banderas

Right now you haven’t got a clue where I’m going with this, do you?  Patience my friends, all will become clear.

But first, let me start by saying that Isabel Allende is one of my favourite authors. I’ve read all but one (her latest and it’s on my list) of her books, many of them multiple times. She takes you on magical voyages, not all of which are fiction.

Knowing this, last weekend a friend sent me a link to a Ted Talk she gave in March 2014: “How to live passionately — no matter your age.” OMG!  You owe it to yourself to watch it here.

Of course, given my recent post on meditating, avoiding negativity and embracing happiness the timing was absolutely impeccable. Allende’s 

There’s no escaping it, that’s for sure …

Well, we can escape it, but being dead doesn’t seem like a good alternative to me.  Wondering what the hell I’m talking about?  Come on, think about it for a nano second:

Aging.

Getting older.

Watching the years go by.

Blowing out the candles.

I have written about this subject before, but there have been a trifecta of ‘events’ in my life recently that have compelled me to write about it again.  Sometimes the Universe sends you such strong

Day 298. Me? Never!

I had a great response to yesterday’s blog about aging.  Lots of views.  Lots of visitors.  And a good number of comments.  Really interesting comments.  We  had good conversations.  But me thinks there are those among you who may think I’ve caved.

Succumbed.  Given up.  Given in to getting older.  Accepted it.  Admitted defeat.

Ha!!

Moi?  Are you kidding?  Nothing could be further from the truth.  Nothing.

Yes, I’m getting older.  I’ll cop to that.  How can I not?  It’s true.  It’s a fact.  Happens to the best of us.  But that doesn’t mean I have to take it laying down.  None of us do.  So I decided a Part Two was in order.  A sequel, if you will.  Because there’s something you should know about me.  I don’t give up easily.

Let’s begin at the beginning.  When it comes to aging it is my belief that regardless of what’s going on in your body, getting old is all in your head.  My mother was proof of that.  She had incredible joie de vivre.  She loved life.  She never allowed the number of years she’d been on this planet to define her.  She was defined by her spirit, her zest for living.  In her mind she was ageless.

Her attitude is best described by this Satchel Paige quote:  “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you was?”  As far

Day 297. Aging Sucks

Getting older is not something I dwell on.  I can’t entirely avoid it like I could even four or five years ago, but it’s not constantly on my mind.  Thankfully, because if it was I probably would have stuck my head in the oven long ago.  But yesterday Michelle, over at The Green Study wrote a thought-provoking post on aging.

She was talking about some changes she’s noticing.  Not that she’s old, by any means. But like the rest of us, time’s marching on.

I’ve got to say until the last year or so I didn’t really notice myself getting older.  It’s amazing what we can block out of our minds, isn’t it?  Well, okay, I agree, it’s hard not to notice some things.  Like menopause.  But I know young women with crow’s feet and laugh lines.  And even grey hair.

Look at Anderson Cooper.  Yes, I know he’s a guy.  But he’s still young and his hair is pure white.  That’s my only point here.

Where was I anyway?  Yeah, there comes a point when your memory starts to go.  DON’T PANIC.  It doesn’t

Day 228. What’s Next?

I ‘celebrated’ my birthday this week.  On Wednesday.  I waited until it was safely over to mention it.  Hate making a big deal of it.  And not being such a lover of either attention or sweets, my preference has always been to avoid the cake and candles bit.  Especially now.

With the number of candles I’d need, once they were lit, it would look like a minor forest fire.  And I don’t honestly know if I still have the lung capacity to blow them out.  At least all at once.  Call in the fire fighters!

Never mind.  It was grand.  And it turned out to be a two-day affair.  Some work in the morning, some pampering in the afternoon and dinner with a friend on Wednesday.  Work during the day on Thursday.  Dinner, drinks, jazz and blues on Thursday night.

Several blog posts ago, I wrote about Errol Fisher, a local singer, I’ve enjoyed for years and years.  Well, lo and

Day 177. The Boomers

Have you noticed?  There seems to be a proliferation of movies about growing old, lately.  I’m not exactly sure why.  Could be, because so many of the screen writers, producers and directors are, themselves, in their fifties and sixties, and beyond.  Could also be, because so many of the great actors are, as well.  And they need roles they can play.

Robert De Niro.  Al Pacino.  Meryl Streep.  Tommy Lee Jones.  Judi Dench.  Maggie Smith.  Jack Nicholson.  Denzel Washington.  Susan Sarandin.  Jeff Bridges.  Samuel L. Jackson.  Helen Mirren.  Bill Murray.  Christopher Walken.  Bill Nighy.  Ben Kingsley.  Malcolm McDowell.  Diane Keaton.  Steve Martin.  Glenn Close.  Kathy Bates.  Sigourney Weaver.  Geoffrey Rush.  Liam Neesen.  And the list goes on.  And on.

Yeah, they’re boomers.  Hard to believe, isn’t it?

God knows they don’t want to be forced into retirement.  And we don’t want them to retire, either.  They’re way too