Sep 4, 2010

Resurgence when? More...

More musings on 60 and above..the sisters

Old friends seem really important. The sharing of a history of linkages which stretches over the years. A remembered collection of stories detailing the relationships, houses, politics, children's follies, work traumas,and buckets of tears. Now the sisterhood returns in a new form; shaping a container around our lives.

The old politics still intact under layers of living in an imperfect world, The idealism of youth popping out now and then in grand pronouncements about Washington, or the state of gender politics.

We marvel at the tenacity, raw strength and fortitude of our friends. The toughness we cannot see in ourselves is so evident in them. They live through illness, death, trauma, poverty, losses and all with sharp retort, a joke, a spiritual  reference rarely going down the path of self-pity.

These feminists who championed the right of women to follow their hearts and dreams now some times live lives with insurmountable limitations.They have been to the mountain top yet they dwell at the base.

The realities of a generation who knew in its heart that it would blossom, achieve, surpass, accomplish every goal now deals with health  issues, diabetes, reduced retirements, a government strangely alien,  and declining hope in their dream of social justice.

Lately, no one calls on the collective wisdom of this sisterhood; we are strangely off, eccentric, curiosities who ranted, wrote, bullied, marched, and strategically implemented a myriad of social improvements.

Those same improvements now enjoyed by arch conservatives, right wing, and fundamentalist women.. The ability to have birth control, to not be pregnant every year, to work outside the home, to own your property; to have day care, to have your own checking account, to get a no fault divorce,
and to adopt children on your own. Not to mention a naming and  awareness of domestic violence.

I remember living when men ruled the home, where many women did not work outside the home, where the church had the last say, where hitting your wife was normal, when kids were seen and not heard and where a woman's options were to be a nun, a wife, a teacher or a secretary.

It seems very important to get with friends and talk about all of this. To re- energize our collective voice , to note that the changes we witnessed and fought for can still be lost. That our efforts should not be dismissed and taken for granted. We in our 60's  and beyond are a force to be heard- that would be resurgence.

Sep 2, 2010

Resurgence when?

Approaching the 70's, body looks 60, mind is 30, memory sometimes 100. Trying to eke out a path that is visually stimulating, heartfelt, and amusing. Trying to find meaning in the journey when work as I knew it is over. Looking for life in all the wrong places...

The days roll by sometimes too fast to etch a notch into them; mark them as mine. I reflect on past accomplishments. The huge triumphs of my 40's and I laugh-a rumbling deep chortle. Oh how silly I was at times; trying to be someone be someone.

There are holy moments of true insight when I get it. I see the abundance, the joy, the lineage, the small wonders of my trip but on other days a gray field when memories fall to inspire and I seek a meaningful experience. A monastery, an island, the church. Some genetic strain to laugh at life often saves me just as I give over. Always wonder about others, do they twist and turn on this, do they want more meaning?

Gratitude for the travel. the stories, the foibles, the silly worries, my usual health, the family in all its lovely chaos and confusion. Being a matriarch is a bitch so much to live up to.

I will return as I always do to the calendar, the book, the next projects, the bills, the appointments and let my musings about life fall aside. Call it denial, call it self preservation. I just need to keep keeping on .


more orange than one can bear
reflections sharp and clear
crisp sounds that lure you
and the smell- toasty and dry
sometimes a pinky green
that only god could paint
the views stop you cold
breathing stops
in valleys and hilltops
white churches punctuate
the color lights the senses
more beauty than can be imagined

proof of abundance

Sep 1, 2010


she gave me the eye
piercing, direct, challenging
the wind whistled
it felt suddenly colder
what part of the exchange
was in my head
was she menacing
all around leaves flew in litttle
whirlwinds- magic or omen
does one ever know?