on men who do not support the dream

Sitting on the couch with Steve this morning, coffee in hand (which, granted, he made for me and brought to me), and feet up, I lamented, "I have really big feet for a woman." (photo not really my feet ... just serving as example)

To which my husband answered, "MARILYN! You are 52. Your feet will never be any smaller than they are. And your ankles will never be thinner than they are. And frankly, I have very little faith that you will ever be willowy."

I thought it was the reasonable task of a husband of long standing, one to whom a woman has given the best years of her life, one on whom service and sacrifice have not been spared, one who knows his wife's secret dream of being a willowy old lady, to support the dream.

Men and women are fundamentally different in how they think about their bodies. My husband can gain some weight, look pale and flabby and still mow the lawn without a shirt. This for me would be the equivalent of gardening in 'hot pants'. For those of you who don't know what hot pants are, I have attached a modest example ... And can I say that in the 70's I had a pair or two ... and I was a hottie, although you will have to take that by faith. But not now. I would definitely NOT be a hottie bent over in my garden with these things on.

Men wore hot pants too, which made for some embarassing moments. There are some things that need to be kept from the public eye.

So ... bottom line (no pun intended) I'LL SHOW HIM! HE'LL BE SORRY WHEN I'M WILLOWY AND HE ISN'T. or not. whatever. sigh

on belly dancing

So, I turned 52 this past week. Very much okay with that.

But also feeling a little old ... not the kind of old that means frail, just tired and a bit defeated about being a physical person.

One gift of being the birthday girl is hearing from friends ... and a friend I knew in Calgary wrote me. Her name is Marion. She is now 81. Her husband is 80. She married her husband when she was 69. We were there at her wedding. She wrote me this ...

Then I felt so young at heart, but I never knew that my job description would change so fast, I now have become pill dispenser (but I don't mind) because the rewards - I get to cuddle my patient every night ( in bed naked). My days, when I am not Nurse Nancy are very busy, I swim three times a week, and once a week I go BELLY DANCING. I have so much fun at those classes. I practice the hip while ushering people in church, and I practice the arm movements, while showing the people to their pews. The best part is the laughing when I tell people that I take Belly Dancing classes, their eyes seem to get brighter and they just laugh and laugh.

Okay. I now dub Marion my guru of getting older. I see the possibilities through her. I will stop complaining about feeling old. And get into some belly dancing lessons. It really IS all in the mind. Maybe I will be svelt and willowy yet!

Hmmm.... wonder who offers belly dancing lessons in Kentucky?

a load of shit

It is my birthday and hoorah!!, I have been given a load of shit from my husband, Steve. It is lovely to come home and see it simmering on the driveway, ready to be shoveled into various garden plots. Along with the shit I have the full cooperation of my man, who will spend the next few nights with me out in the yard. What more could a girl ask for?

This may appear to be a somewhat overly practical gift for a woman to

receive, but to me it is a hundred flowers, scads of butterflies, ivys and

honeysuckles climbing the fence, etc etc.

Life has a lot of shit in it. But sometimes shit is a good thing.

a few good men

I seem to want to talk about women and men. All my life it has been that - women and men, a great divide. What men do to women what women do to men. How sex is power of a sort, especially to those who have no other power. How men and women have the ability to give the greatest gifts to each other, and how men and women so often destroy each other - (I know it is not only men and women, it is men and men and women and women too.)

But my man did something brave this week. He stood up to his peers, to those who really do have power over some of his life. He spoke the truth about women and religious hierarchy and the loss of soul because of spiritual abuse. He didn't say too much. Just enough to make the room quiet.

And maybe he lost a chance. But he got another chance. A chance with me. Well done my lovely man.

on not being watched

One of my values in life right now is to live as if I am not being watched. Children know how to do this. And I see it when I am with a person who is completely free. Then I feel free. I want to be that for others.

We impact each other. Recently a study illustrated that we are influenced to eat in the manner our friends eat. If we hang out with people who eat nachos every night we might also begin to eat nachos every night. Point being, we are not as autonomous as we think.

So, I want to be a modifying, non-anxious presence in the (often anxious) lives of people around me. I want to be that, and to be that accidentally. Which can only happen if I am, actually, a non-anxious person.

Like you, I am under constant pressure, invitation, drive, whatever - to achieve, to accomplish, to use as many options as possible, to know bright people. Every choice I face has to be considered in light of the direction I want my life to go, which is counter to the pressure I feel.

That my choice is moving toward gentleness may be invisible to anyone but me, for a time. I am going to trust that the whole will speak. And I am trusting that living as if I am not being watched will free others to live that way too.

sweetness and tears

I wake today one year from the Virginia killings - and spent my first hour of the day on the phone with a dear lifetime friend who is waking with new knowledge of a tumor.

A Klatskin tumor is a cholangiocarcinoma (cancer of the biliary tree) occurring at the confluence of the right and left hepatic bile ducts.
Treatment and prognosis
Because of their location these tumours present late and therefore are usually not resectable at the time of presentation. Complete resection of the tumour offers hope of long term survival and of late there has been renewed interest in liver transplantation from deceased donors along with adjuvant therapy. Prognosis remains poor today.

When these kind of realities are in my focal consciousness, I want to love 'my people'. I lose what ambition I have to succeed or be known, and and I want to find a way to tell my children and their children and Steve that they are my treasure. And I have a great treasure and more to come.

I am sitting at my desk trying not to cry but my eyes are not cooperating and I am ruining my makeup, such as it is. Lately I am thinking that nothing matters but people - relationships.

rats and man

Listening to NPR I heard this quote from the Kinsey sex book (you know the one): When cheese crumbles were sprinkled in front of copulating rats, the female rat was able to be distracted but the male rat was not.

So what would be news about that I wonder to myself. Hmmmm. My birthday is coming up. Great sex? or Great dinner out? mmmmmm

I remember the Christmas I was teaching in Calgary and I was so weary. I told Steve he had a choice. He could have a beautiful clean house with decorations and a few really nice Christmas moments, or a fairly healthy bit of sex. That was the Christmas we didn't put decorations on the tree.