Freedom From Perfection

"Well, you have suffered enough

And warred with yourself

It's time that you won."

                                 -Glen Hansard, "Falling Slowly"

                         from the Once soundtrack

In case you were wondering, which you probably weren't but you'll hear about it anyway, there are always backstories to the stories that I post here.  There's the wondering if I should post x, y or z to the general public.  There's the factor of someone from high school (who I was always trying to impress) reading about how I now have one eye that crosses in and a right knee to go along with it.  There's the chance that someone to whom I normally wouldn't divulge ANY personal information is now reading about how I've had my self-esteem in the gutter and have recently become concerned in the summer about my ailing bikini body.

Before posting my recent pumping iron with old people post, I had my husband read it first.  I was actually just asking him to see if I was being offensive to older individuals. He didn't think so; in fact, he liked the post. But, as I was turning to leave the conversation he added, "if you don't mind telling everyone all that stuff about you."

And do you know how I responded, quite definitively in fact?

"Actually, I don't."

Revealing these flaws is my way of slowly freeing myself from the perfect image that I have, for years, tried to sustain.  I am gradually crawling out of that cocoon of hiding my once (seemingly) fatal flaws and am now just becoming me, in all of my imperfections.  I can laugh at the chinks in my armor, versus berating myself for having them. God knows they just keep accruing every year!

I'm not saying I never wear makeup or nice clothes, or never worry about how I look or sound or act.  (I'm not perfect at showing my imperfections, after all.) But I am feeling free to reveal more vulnerability, because that is what everyone needs.  We crave honesty from others.  We need to be reminded that we are not supposed to be the airbrushed image in the magazines and online. We all have- or will have- dark circles and blemishes, wrinkles and age spots. And they don't have to be surgically corrected for us to be presentable.

We don't have all the answers and sometimes feel like we know nothing about anything.  And that's just reality, not something to hide or be ashamed of.

As for our personalities, we need to have some of our "shortcomings" and "flaws" re-imagined as gifts.  Whether we're talkative or quiet, imaginative or realistic, emotion-centered vs. fact-centered, open-ended or orderly, we need to remember that, when channeled well, these traits are beneficial and even vital to making the world go round.

Vulnerability.  Freedom from perfection.

Isn't that a great place to start?

Margaret Young: In Order of Importance

"Often people attempt to live their lives backwards; they try to have more things, or more money, in order to do more of what they want, so they will be happier. 

The way it actually works is the reverse. You must first be who you really are, then do what you need to do, in order to have what you want."

-Margaret Young, Vaudeville Comedienne, 1920's Jazz Singer  

Pumping Iron with Old People

Did your mother ever tell you, "Young Lady (or Man,) you need a serious attitude adjustment!"

Mine did, and, in truly redundant fashion, I now say the same exact thing to my kids.  You'd think I'd come up with something a bit more creative, but, alas no.

It's just a vicious cycle, My Friend.

I'll admit, however, that there have been many instances in adulthood where I could have used my mother's admonishment to change my attitude.  Because sometimes I forget that I am indeed "coppin' an a," as those of us 40 plussers used to say in the 80's.

(We were sooooo cool, Dude!!)

One recent instance of an attitude in need of adjustment was my work out situation.  This past summer, as I lamented the demise of my bikini figure, I was also undergoing physical therapy on my knees.  (Yup.  Both of them.)  Due to the fact that my right knee naturally turns ever-so-slightly inward, kind of like my right eye that ever-so-slightly crosses inward, (and no, that doesn't mean that I inadvertently just go around in circles) my body became really out of alignment.  And that, in turn, meant that both of my knees would hurt every time I ran or did certain exercises.  Which then meant that I had to figure out how to work out in a way that benefitted my knees, my health and my schedule.  (Oh yes, and my ailing bikini bod.)

So, when my physical therapist told me that running for more than a mile was unwise, I decided immediately that I was totally screwed.  That was my main form of exercise, after all. But, not one to give up on my situation so easily, my therapist then asked me if I belonged to a gym so I could weight train and use the elliptical machine, which would help my strength and alleviate my knee pain. No Siree, I proclaimed right then and there. No way was I going to join the nearby exclusive gym!  I'd joined a similar one a couple of times before and I always felt like it was just too far away and a waste of time and money given the exorbitant initial membership fee and monthly rates. All for the sake of a hip vibe.

And that was the end of that discussion. Although I didn't exactly sulk out of my last appointment and was outwardly grateful for the help she'd given me, I did harrumpf a little to myself.  I grumbled about how, now that I was getting older, my body just couldn't handle the simplest of things, like running.

Like I said, totally screwed- for life.

Fast forward a month later.  I don't know when it hit me, but I suddenly remembered an option I had that I'd always dismissed: the recreation center.  It was only five minutes away.  It had really good machine weights, an elliptical, plus classes. And you don't need to pay a membership fee!  Why, oh why, didn't I think of that sooner, I wondered.

But in actuality I knew the answer to that question.  I'd dismissed the notion many years earlier because I didn't want to work out in a nondescript place with a bunch of old people, since that's who mainly goes to the rec center gym.  It's completely ridiculous I know.  Talk about coppin' a 'tude!

However, now that I've changed my attitude I've discovered there are so many benefits, besides saving money, to working out in the community rec center with old people.  Now, let me just clarify that by "old" I mean 80's and above.  (Because, at age 42, you've got to be careful about who you're calling old.) In fact, I'm actually working out at the rec center quite a bit now, especially since the weather is so cold.  I won't say I'm quite ready for bathing suit season, but I'm getting there!

So what are the benefits, you might well ask, of working out with the twilight generation? Here are my top five reasons:

1. I can wear reading glasses while on the elliptical and not feel embarrassed.

I actually wear them to read because of my slightly converging right eye problem, not because of an aging vision problem, but still, no one there judges me. It's possible they can't see me very clearly from where they are sitting five feet away, but that's neither here nor there.

2. These old people are clean!

When the signs say, "please wipe down your machine after every use" they actually DO IT.  This results not only in fewer germs but also in no smell, which I can definitely appreciate.

Of course, there doesn't seem to be a ton of sweating going on either, so I'm sure that contributes to the fresh air. Which leads me to...

3. No grunting, egregious panting, or other outrageously loud noises interrupt my workout. 

No one appears to be going for the gold as far as pumping iron is concerned. If someone starts grunting I'd actually call an ambulance.

4. I get to hear about the latest offerings on PBS.

Masterpiece Theatre and the like are all the buzz at this gym. Thankfully no one has spilled the beans on Downton Abbey, since I remain most pitifully on Season One.

5. I feel quite young, trim and athletic.

Of course, I try to overlook the fact that it's all relative.  After all, I'm using the leg press next to Millie, who just turned 90 and is more interested in discussing her needlepoint project than in burning calories. (Truly, I am not making that up.) But heck, she's 90 and she's in a gym!  I think that's awesome.


So there you have it. I solved a big problem by making a slight adjustment in my attitude.

Which begs the question: if you adjusted your attitude about certain things, what could you accomplish?

Grown Ups Who Like To... Play??!!

My astute brother-in-law found this fun article from the Wall Street Journal that I just had to share you.

I don't find too many stories that depict adults having fun just for the sake of it. These guys have managed to continue playing a game most of us abandon when we're 10.

Enjoy!

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424127887323375204578269991660836834.html?mod=WSJ_hp_mostpop_read

Songs to Live By: Carly Simon (Stuff that Dreams are Made of)

Sometimes my clients find that their current career path is actually pretty close to what they need to be doing. They realize, during our coaching sessions, that they have actually steered themselves in the right direction, but just need a few tweaks to make their careers and lives fulfilling.

Whenever this happens, I'm reminded of a song I sang in a benefit cabaret several years ago.  The show was entitled "Reflections on Life and Love," and this song, written and originally performed by Carly Simon, remains one of my favorites to this day.

Although Ms. Simon writes about rekindling a romantic love, I think the lyrics resonate beyond that. The song can remind us of the fact that what we have-in many aspects of our life- is sometimes exactly what we truly need. Perhaps we are right where we should be, even though it isn't exactly the exciting image we'd originally envisioned and dreamed up for ourselves.

In fact, when we stop and think about the achievements we've made, the relationships we've fostered and the people we've become, we realize that our lives are actually fuller and richer than the dreams we once conceived.

Perhaps we just have to "adjust the tuning" to invigorate ourselves once again.

"It's the Stuff that Dreams are Made Of"

by Carly Simon

Take a look around now

Change the direction

Adjust the tuning

Try a new translation

Don't look at your man in the same old way

Take a new picture

Just because you don't see shooting stars

Doesn't mean it isn't perfect

Can't you see...

It's the stuff that dreams are made of

It's the slow and steady fire

It's the stuff that dreams are made of

It's your heart and soul's desire

It's the stuff that dreams are made of

So what's this about your best friend?

She's got a brand new shiny boy

And they're moving out to Malibu

To play with all his pretty toys

And you feel closed in by the same four walls

The same old conversation

With the same old guy you've know for years

But use your imagination

And you will see....

It's the stuff that dreams are made of

It's the slow and steady fire

It's the stuff that dreams are made of

It's your heart and soul's desire

It's the stuff that dreams are made of

What if the Prince on the horse in your fairytale

Is right here in disguise

And what if the stars you've been reaching so high for

Are shining in his eyes

Don't look at yourself in the same old way

Take another picture

Shoot the stars off in your own backyard

Don't look any further

And you will see

It's the stuff that dreams are made of....

Check out the video!

Erich Fromm: Becoming Yourself

"Man's main task in life is to give birth to himself, to become what he potentially is. The most important product of his effort is his own personality." 

-Erich Fromm 

Turning to a New Year

A college friend once told me that a career is like "a book with many chapters." And though that conversation was a few years ago and I've since dabbled with countless career metaphors, I honestly can't think of a better analogy.  It's so good, in fact, that I believe it can capture the experience of living as well.

A really great life, like a really good book, takes us on a journey. We, the protagonists, seek fulfillment in one form or another.  In our quest we encounter many obstacles along the way but somehow we always find new ways to use our inner strengths to leap over those roadblocks.  We silence the demons of self-doubt, deceive the army of naysayers and slay the dragons of defeat.

Throughout the many chapters of our lives, we survive many changes, losses and heartaches.  But we keep moving forward towards our quest for fulfillment and human connection, which takes on new meaning, growing in spirit, strength and confidence.

At least that's how the story is supposed to go...

But as 2013 is now upon me, beckoning me to move forward, I find myself hesitating. I think about the chapters in my own book of life- especially the part where I play Mommy- and how much I resist turning the page to see what lies ahead.  I don't want to let those nostalgic chapters go, even though they're already long gone. All that remains is my bare wistfulness.

I cling to the experiences of my children as little ones: of a tiny hand just able to grasp my index finger, chubby little thighs that smell so good after a nice warm bath.  I sort through pictures of yesteryear and wonder: how did the belly-laughs, the lullabies, the toothless smiles at my singing, the soothing vibrations of a sleeping baby on my chest get swallowed up by the passage of time?  Where do these experiences go? Do they evaporate into the ether when my memory can't quite hold on to them anymore- when I can't hear these moments anymore... or feel them or smell them?

Even the best photographs are no match for the power of the senses.

It's not that I want my children to be babies anymore.  As most parents would concur- so please excuse my hackneyed insight here- I am so grateful that I've conquered the stage of feeding/burping/changing diapers/schlepping around a million things for a meager trip to the grocery store- a trip which, by the way, takes an hour rather than the 12 minutes it would take going solo.  I don't miss the the despair and befuddlement I felt as they lay crying due to the fact that, lacking any type of formal communication, they couldn't tell me what was wrong.

(And then language came, which has now enabled them to tell me everything that is wrong.)

So what is it about the passage of time, the fleeting nature of experience, that allows me to avoid looking ahead and turning to the next chapter?  Is it merely the fact that something only happens once?  Even if that something tried my patience and disrupted my sleep schedule?

I think we all hang on to things just for the sake of hanging on, even if it's not something we truly want to keep in our lives. The only thing that we're really grasping is familiarity.  We know what the past and present look like.  We don't know what the future holds, even though it could be the best experience we will have ever had.

If my kids had stayed little, I'd never have been able to see all of the great stuff of today.  Like my daughter's amazing gift for storytelling, her fascination with books, her beautiful artwork and uncanny imagination. I would've missed taking her to New York at Christmastime and seeing her peer through the exquisitely designed windows at Bergdorf's.  I would've missed sharing with her the magic of watching a great show on Broadway.

And I wouldn't have been able to see my son wake up in the morning and head straight to the advent  calendar to count down the days to Christmas.  Or help him transform his room to a Spider Man lair and answer his infinite questions about super heroes.

(And by "answer" I mean, "You'll have to ask Daddy about that one.")

So I suppose I should embrace growing, especially since that IS the name of this blog. Therefore I'm dedicating this year, 2013, to moving forward. To growing.  To turning the page to see what lies ahead.

In order to accomplish this goal I know I'll need to keep reminding myself that, like in any good story, there's always a big twist.  It often happens at the height of the protagonist's struggles, when she feels she doesn't have anything yet to give or look forward to. When the past looks like all that's worth hanging on to.  But in the next chapter she emerges, almost miraculously, fulfilled in ways she never imagined.  Which gives her the confidence that, no matter what dragons lie ahead, she'll slay them too.

Sounds like a job for Spider Woman, don't you think?