Written By Regina Brett, 90 years old, of The Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio.Happy Weekend, All!
"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most-requested column I've ever written.
My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:
1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone...
4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first pay cheque.
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion, today is special.
22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.
23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
24. The most important sex organ is the brain.
25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'
27. Always choose life.
28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
33. Believe in miracles.
34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
37. Your children get only one childhood.
38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
42. The best is yet to come.
43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
44. Yield.
45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."
Thursday, May 28, 2009
45 Life Lessons
A high school friend, Davene, sent me this list today. Elixir! Thought I'd share it with you. Maybe there is something there that will do you good today.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Sun-day
"Wanna go for a bike ride before church?"
"Yeah buddy!"
Tom got the bikes out of the shed while I packed yogurt, dried fruit, and sunflower seeds for breakfast.
We hit the trail peddling for the river, a bench, and a very scenic sunny morning breaking of the fast.
There is a poignancy to looking at these photos this afternoon. A bit of serendipity all the more cherished after learning at church that an acquaintance my age has a terminal illness. Oh, to type the words, to read the words! What must pulse through the minds and hearts of this kind person, this loving family? There is much unknown. There is much known.
We all end the same. We all hope to have finished our most pressing work which for me is raising the kids. But who ever knows? Who ever knows?
God knows. And we persevere the best we can.
In light of the Truth.
For me, there will be more bike rides, more beach days with kites and dogs and laughter, there will be more yogurt making, flower and vegetable planting with loved ones. Living in the moment, focusing on eyes, and hair, and smiles, and tears. Listening. Lots of listening. And learning together about the One who is the reason for the journey.
And less - much less - carrying of expectations on shoulders meant for carrying joyful dreams.
"Yeah buddy!"
Tom got the bikes out of the shed while I packed yogurt, dried fruit, and sunflower seeds for breakfast.
We hit the trail peddling for the river, a bench, and a very scenic sunny morning breaking of the fast.
There is a poignancy to looking at these photos this afternoon. A bit of serendipity all the more cherished after learning at church that an acquaintance my age has a terminal illness. Oh, to type the words, to read the words! What must pulse through the minds and hearts of this kind person, this loving family? There is much unknown. There is much known.
We all end the same. We all hope to have finished our most pressing work which for me is raising the kids. But who ever knows? Who ever knows?
God knows. And we persevere the best we can.
In light of the Truth.
For me, there will be more bike rides, more beach days with kites and dogs and laughter, there will be more yogurt making, flower and vegetable planting with loved ones. Living in the moment, focusing on eyes, and hair, and smiles, and tears. Listening. Lots of listening. And learning together about the One who is the reason for the journey.
And less - much less - carrying of expectations on shoulders meant for carrying joyful dreams.
Summery May Weekend - Day Two
With temperatures around 80 degrees we embrace our first summer-like weekend of the year.
Yesterday was Day Two in our Magical Mystery Tour of Joy. (Is that over-stating things? Do I remain so winter-crusted that I must gush? Yes. No shame here.)
After pushing open both large bedroom windows at dawn, Tom and I crawled back under the covers together - Saturday relaxed - while warmish summer-scented air entered our room and lungs, played with our hair and curtains, and like a tiny fairy shaking dust from her luminescent wand sparked imagination and enthusiasm.
Awakening to a new season.
Pancakes, sausage, and kiwi brunch in the company of two beach-cheeked daughters.
They did the dishes, we headed for the Saturday and Farmers' Markets.
Oh the delight! We bought a blueberry bush and an orange daisy-like plant.
And spring greens by the bagful.
And chuckled at dichotomy in a town known for its politically correct Earth-Respectors. At the hippie-infested Saturday Market, no less.
"Celebrate Diversity!"
Strolling, perusing, jostling, and sunshine.
Then this:
Beautiful morning.
While Tom and I gallivanted, Cassie and Caroline busily carried out a surprise by setting out the summer outdoor furniture including the table and umbrella so we four could have meals on the sun porch while the weather holds. Huge smile from me on seeing that!
After a good night's sleep - windows wide open - today's dawn teases.
Brand spanking new day and I'm ready to open it!
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Breather
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Changing with the Seasons
I'm back. My blog hiatus was short lived, eh. I'm a woman - I'm allowed to be fickle.
A dramatic, life-changing moment shocked me this weekend. My evil was presented to me undeniably, clearly, jarringly, third-person speaking to me, about me, no tree to hide behind, oh my. Talk about a mirror held up before a face. Just what I needed and prayed for. Hurt like hell. Really and truly and pardon the French. (The French get blamed for everything!)
Like a painful birth really or maybe the lancing of a boil. A huge boil. Out oozes the evil for all to see, especially me. My shame felt squirmingly, wrenchingly.
Forgiveness. Starting over with a new mindset, outlook, perspective. Sometimes it takes experience - decades worth - to lay down the situation undeniably. Discomfort. Pain. There it is. Look at it. Feel it. Know it. Helpless to stop on my own because the process wasn't complete. I had to have a pronouncement from someone I trust, someone much wiser than I, someone not in the thick of this - this - this thing that I do.
And pronounce he did.
And there was a loud CLICK in my head. "I get it. Ick. I totally get it. Ugly. Why do I do it? Doesn't matter. No more. What a jerk I have been."
Understanding is the beginning of wisdom is the beginning of repentance, contrition, and change.
Wasn't hard to quit once the full smack-down landed on me with a full body-blow.
Ouch.
And then...ahhhh.
Relief. For all of us.
A dramatic, life-changing moment shocked me this weekend. My evil was presented to me undeniably, clearly, jarringly, third-person speaking to me, about me, no tree to hide behind, oh my. Talk about a mirror held up before a face. Just what I needed and prayed for. Hurt like hell. Really and truly and pardon the French. (The French get blamed for everything!)
Like a painful birth really or maybe the lancing of a boil. A huge boil. Out oozes the evil for all to see, especially me. My shame felt squirmingly, wrenchingly.
Forgiveness. Starting over with a new mindset, outlook, perspective. Sometimes it takes experience - decades worth - to lay down the situation undeniably. Discomfort. Pain. There it is. Look at it. Feel it. Know it. Helpless to stop on my own because the process wasn't complete. I had to have a pronouncement from someone I trust, someone much wiser than I, someone not in the thick of this - this - this thing that I do.
And pronounce he did.
And there was a loud CLICK in my head. "I get it. Ick. I totally get it. Ugly. Why do I do it? Doesn't matter. No more. What a jerk I have been."
Understanding is the beginning of wisdom is the beginning of repentance, contrition, and change.
Wasn't hard to quit once the full smack-down landed on me with a full body-blow.
Ouch.
And then...ahhhh.
Relief. For all of us.
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