There’s nothing like a pandemic to show the cracks in the veneer. Where things can break down. What does not work. And yet I am the eternal optimist. I like to find that silver lining. The lesson, the takeaway, the surprise…
Nothing surpasses motherhood. Of all the feelings, emotions and do-overs I would like in my life, my relationship with myself vis-a-vis my daughter is at the top of the list.
Location. Location. Location.
There’s an old saying: “What you see, depends on where you stand.” How often have I traveled the same road, only to notice something new?
Why does New Year’s Eve evoke such strong feelings in people? It was the best of times, it was the worst of times – thanks for the insight, Charles Dickens. The real question is: how do I bullet-proof myself either way?
Why pay for the gym, when real life chores are so much more beneficial? Not to mention, I need a solution that saves time, money and is practical. It’s a retirement conundrum: the gym has become inconvenient.
At our age, we think we should have what we want. I got a new car. I wanted leather seats, but I didn’t get them (more on that below).
We all know the trick to life is wanting what you have. It’s been quite a lesson to figure out what are the things I need, versus what I think I need. How do you stay in that zone of being happy with what you have?
Is there a second act in you? Perhaps even a third? At this age, we all know that the definition of insanity is “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
It took me 50 years to discover the power of a childhood friend. It all started when I was shipped off to sleep away camp in the summer of 1969 and met Betsy Brown. By 1975 we were already too old for camp.
I’m always sure the grass is greener on the other side. The person sitting next to me got the bigger portion. My friend learned about investing, while I didn’t. The girls in high school knew how to get a prom date. People stay happily married. Everyone else knows something I don’t.