When I was a young woman, I had the privilege of working with Elizabeth Kubler Ross. Elizabeth was a deep and wonderful woman, who taught me so much. I could write about her for hours, but, today, I just want to focus on one thing that Elizabeth said that has changed my life. She said, “We always criticize the things in other people that we fear most in ourselves.”
There is a special kind of beauty that only older women have. It is not the beauty of youth, with its flawless skin, shining hair and toned muscles. It is the silent beauty of wisdom and confidence. It is the genuine smile of a life well-lived and a future secured. It is the story told by our wrinkles and the depth in our eyes.
The women’s movement was a significant cultural and social movement in the 1960s. Its goal was to achieve reforms to benefit women in the areas of maternity leave, domestic violence, sexual harassment and equal pay. Many women in their 60s today struggled with these issues when they were younger.
Depending on your perspective, the past can be your best friend or your worst enemy after 60. Some of us are able to see the past as a treasure chest of learning experiences. Others, like me, if I’m completely honest, struggle to let go of our mistakes and let the past prevent us from living fully in the moment. Which of these two extremes are you closest to?
As older women, living in the 21st century, it’s easy to forget just how different things were a few generations ago.
During our lifetime, we have made huge progress in the workforce and at home. We fought against sex-based discrimination and for equal treatment under the law. We still have a long way to go in many areas, but, there is no denying that the world is a fairer place now than when we were born.
I stand on my head because I can. Every time I turn myself upside down I find my balance – literally and figuratively.
That’s when I take center stage in my life. That’s when I’m living my experience in the present with full consciousness and intention.
When we were little girls, we dreamed about “being someone.” We wanted to visit amazing places and do amazing things. Then, for most of us, life took over. Now, in our 60s, many of us feel like Lily Tomlin, who once said, “I always wanted to be someone, but now I realize I needed to be more specific.”
I’m not a big fan of celebrity watching. Whenever I happen to be sitting across from someone famous at a restaurant, I pretend not to notice.
After all, they deserve their privacy. All that said, I was still happy when I saw this picture of Helen Mirren riding the subway.
Every time I ask the women in the Sixty and Me community who their favorite actresses are, Helen Mirren is right at the top of the list.
You’ve all heard the phrase so many times that it has become a universal mantra: If not now, when?
I said that same mantra to myself in March, 1984. I was standing backstage at the Old Globe Theater, in San Diego, waiting for my cue to go on stage. The woman in front of me was no other than Marion Ross, the quintessential mother in the hit TV series, Happy Days. Marion was in the same drab, unexciting play, written by a Hungarian about, what else, Hungarians! I was playing the younger daughter of the master of the house. My character added absolutely nothing to the story – whatever the story may have been. I truly can’t remember.