indulge in the ordinary

“I've become convinced that our lives are shaped less by the mistakes we make than when we make them. There is less elasticity now. Less time to bounce back. And so I heed the urgent whisper and move with greater and greater deliberation.” 
― Dani Shapiro, Hourglass: Time, Memory, Marriage

I promise myself I will only watch one episode of Grace and Frankie each night on Netflix.  I will savor the new season and make it last for a while. But I don't, and in a couple of nights I have reached the end. I laugh so hard and relate so much to all the characters and am sad to let them go. 

In some ways I relate to Frankie;  like me she wears her full heart where everyone can see it. I admire her bohemian lifestyle which is free and open and connected to the spirituality of mother earth. ( I also want her wardrobe!) But there is a Grace side of me too. Holding on to that white picket fence thing; not really wanting others to know the messiness of my life. The two of them compliment each other and have helped each other grow. They lift each other up and open up each other's worlds. I decide we all need a Grace and a Frankie in our lives and feel blessed because I feel I have both. 

One day I read on one of those random Facebook posts, that most Americans today feel that middle age is 65, not 55 as it use to be. I smile, thinking, well there you go, I am not even middle aged yet. Truth be told I don't feel much older than I did at 25, it all kind of melts together. I am all the ages I have ever been (someone famous said that I think). I do notice a few shortcomings at 63, but also a fair amount of wisdom. 

After a while the middle-aged person who lives in her head begins to talk to her soul, the kid.
— Anne Lamott

I find myself wondering what will go first; my mind, or my body. I only think about this when I can't find my keys or my phone, or I can't open the new jar of mayonnaise. I solve these two problems by buying a beautiful, colorful tray to place my keys and my phone on and becomeing a huge fan of condiments in squeeze bottles. 

Years vanish. Months collapse. Time is like a tall building made of playing cards. It seems orderly until a strong gust of wind comes along and blows the whole thing skyward. Imagine it: an entire deck of cards soaring like a flock of birds.
— Dani Shapiro, Hourglass: Time, Memory, Marriage

Getting older has it perks and I would not be 25 again for anything. So all in all aging is a win-win situation. Today I stumble along, let the dust gather, leave the bed unmade, and leave dishes in the sink instead of tiding up. I choose instead to walk the dog with my camera and write. I eat sourdough bread that I make and don't feel guilty about it. I drink wine now and then and love cheese.  I row twice a week because I love it and the side benefits outweigh the load of laundry it produces every few days.  I try new things and toss them aside if they don't work and I let go of that white picket fence illusion that everything is perfect. Because it isn't. 

One thing I have learned over the years is that perfection is way overrated. What isn't overrated is that we live every day. Life does not need to be perfect, it just needs to be lived. 

The way to have the life we want is to receive more deeply the life we have. Sometimes we keep our own life at arm’s length, thinking we’ll wait until circumstances improve before giving it all we’ve got. But life is just a reflection of consciousness, so it’s never going to give any more to us than we give to it. Don’t wait for a perfect life; breathe in the life that’s already perfect.
— Marianne Williamson

If I scold myself for spending a complete evening binge watching Grace and Frankie I will be dismissing the ordinary.  Instead I choose to give myself permission to do what I am supposed to do, to fill myself up with life as I see fit in that moment. 

I choose to indulge in the ordinary and not miss a moment of my life. 

how about you? 
xoxo

 

P.S. I am over at Hello There, Friend today talking about sourdough starter and my dad. I would love for you to drop by. 
 

cathy sly1 Comment