I admit that I'm one who periodically spirals into panic, overwhelmed with the stupid trivial details of life, like...how can I pick up the dry cleaning, complete something big and hairy for work, get to a soccer game, see a friend, exercise, walk the dog, run to the grocery store, shoot off some critical emails, catch up with my kids and husband, and not collapse before dinner. The anxiety of course rears its head over big Mother problems too -- the things over which I absolutely cannot control. What can set me off? The shitty economy, crappy political issues, the state of our schools, cancer messing with my friend or more personal traumas like trying to protect my children from harm or heartache, as if I can make a difference in say, Bobby's law school applications or Audrey's success in her SAT's.
I escape from these periods of dread and worry by sipping wine, lots of it at times, soaking in a hot bath, and then burying myself under the covers, to sleep away the uglies. I sigh beneath that comforter, just as I am about to "go under", content that I've successfully exorcised the worry demons. It's a short-lived victory as more often than not, I end up bolting up wide awake in the middle of the night, after just a few hours of sleep. This can never be good for many reasons the least of which is that it is in the wee hours of the night when I invariably conjure up even more problems over which I then obsess. From one challenge comes many, and then more and more and more until I feel BURIED. Sound familiar? Anyone?
I've learned to talk myself through the panic and force myself to focus on just one problem at a time. Running helps me accomplish this. Step by step, mile after mile I work to come up with a game plan to tackle my woes and by the time I hit the shower, my sense of nervous nausea is at bay. Success! That is, until a bump or two experienced in the course of the day drives me to end it, just like the previous one, sipping wine, in a bath, huddled up in bed before 9 pm.....and the scary cycle continues.
This is why Anne Lamott's advice in her Bird by Bird was so compelling to me. A colleague/friend gave it to me for my birthday and I devoured it in one sitting. Won't go into all the attributes of the book, but will share what's on its cover -- as the advice spoke to me and has been very helpful in taming my anxiety beasts!
"Thirty years ago, my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report on birds written that he had three months to write. It was due the next day. He was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother's shoulder and said, "Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird."
I'm embracing the Bird by Bird philosophy. While it was presented to help writers gain confidence in the task of crafting a moving tale, building believable characters, and finessing complex story lines, it has helped this non-writer tackle the complexities and mundane elements of life. I've applied her thinking this holiday season, year-end frenzy and tackling some crazy, crazy work to-do's going into January and I'm of all things....SLEEPING! To me, that's all the proof I need.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
BBC's Top 100 Book List: Numbers. Pages. Film.
The BBC's top 100 Book List which was compiled in 2003 is enjoying a surge of visibility thanks to Facebook and the blogosphere. In the last few weeks, a number of friends have posted the list, prefaced with the annotation that the BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books, and so for me, the roster served as a blatant challenge to assert my reading chops.
I powered through the list and madly clicked off the titles I read. Kudos to my high school and college comparative literature teachers. Without their syllabi, my grand total would have been cut in half, but sadly, of the many I read, there are several I simply blew through on assignment. So, I need to re-read numerous classics not because I have a paper to write or a grade to nab, but to savor the talents of some incredible writers. Thank you BBC for creating the list, and Facebook for making it so easy to share. The timely viral push has inspired some great additions to my Cinquenta Tales List.
While going through the BBC list I confess the enormous impact Hollywood has had on my interpretation of literature. Truth be told, for many of the reads below, several of the characters or story lines are immortalized in my mind through the film's interpretation of the novels instead of the novels themselves. "To Kill a Mockingbird" will always be one of my all-time favorite books and yet whenever I read the book, Gregory Peck is and always will be the only suitable personification of Atticus. To be clear, the man is Atticus! Can I ever read a Jane Austin or Emily Bronte book again and not imagine Hugh Grant, Emma Thompson, Kate Winslet, or Colin Firth as one of their main characters? I've never read "Gone with the Wind", though now thanks to the BBC, it's on my Cinquenta Tales list. How will I be able to force the theme song from the film out of my head when I open the book or imagine anyone other than Clark Gable and Vivienne Leigh as Rhett and Scarlet when I turn each page?
While I love, love, love to read, I also love, love, love the power of film. Stunning cinematography, powerful music, and moving performances are just as lasting as beautifully constructed words in a book. For example, I read "Precious" before I saw the film and loved the book, but Monique's "who is going to love me?" scene with Mariah Carey will haunt me forever. Of course, there are far more instances when Hollywood blows it in a huge way and absolutely destroys a good read (Rebecca, Time Traveler's Wife, Lovely Bones, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Corelli's Mandolin, Memoirs of a Geisha, DaVinci Code to name a few!), but you have to admit when a director gets it right, there's nothing like watching one of your favorite stories come to life in full glory, on the big screen....
So check out the list. Don't do what I did and focus on a number. Focus on the content you've devoured....And let me know what you think was better for each title, Book or Film?
100 Books
I powered through the list and madly clicked off the titles I read. Kudos to my high school and college comparative literature teachers. Without their syllabi, my grand total would have been cut in half, but sadly, of the many I read, there are several I simply blew through on assignment. So, I need to re-read numerous classics not because I have a paper to write or a grade to nab, but to savor the talents of some incredible writers. Thank you BBC for creating the list, and Facebook for making it so easy to share. The timely viral push has inspired some great additions to my Cinquenta Tales List.
While going through the BBC list I confess the enormous impact Hollywood has had on my interpretation of literature. Truth be told, for many of the reads below, several of the characters or story lines are immortalized in my mind through the film's interpretation of the novels instead of the novels themselves. "To Kill a Mockingbird" will always be one of my all-time favorite books and yet whenever I read the book, Gregory Peck is and always will be the only suitable personification of Atticus. To be clear, the man is Atticus! Can I ever read a Jane Austin or Emily Bronte book again and not imagine Hugh Grant, Emma Thompson, Kate Winslet, or Colin Firth as one of their main characters? I've never read "Gone with the Wind", though now thanks to the BBC, it's on my Cinquenta Tales list. How will I be able to force the theme song from the film out of my head when I open the book or imagine anyone other than Clark Gable and Vivienne Leigh as Rhett and Scarlet when I turn each page?
While I love, love, love to read, I also love, love, love the power of film. Stunning cinematography, powerful music, and moving performances are just as lasting as beautifully constructed words in a book. For example, I read "Precious" before I saw the film and loved the book, but Monique's "who is going to love me?" scene with Mariah Carey will haunt me forever. Of course, there are far more instances when Hollywood blows it in a huge way and absolutely destroys a good read (Rebecca, Time Traveler's Wife, Lovely Bones, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Corelli's Mandolin, Memoirs of a Geisha, DaVinci Code to name a few!), but you have to admit when a director gets it right, there's nothing like watching one of your favorite stories come to life in full glory, on the big screen....
So check out the list. Don't do what I did and focus on a number. Focus on the content you've devoured....And let me know what you think was better for each title, Book or Film?
100 Books
The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here. Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Bold those books you've read in their entirety. Italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read only an excerpt. (Tag other book nerds....
1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman (
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma -Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Family Drama: "This is Where I Leave You"
Thanks to my book club friend Ria, I just finished Jonathan Tropper's "This is Where I Leave You", a very funny, laugh-out-loud look at family drama and dysfunction told from the perspective of a man in the throws of marital crisis. Judd Foxman returns home to bury his father just weeks after he discovered his wife was cheating on him. His dad, an atheist randomly made a deathbed request that his 4 children and wife sit shiva for seven days (which is a full-on Jewish mourning ritual). For Judd, his siblings and nutty mom (who is a shrink), the family togetherness uncovers some hilarious childhood memories, several buried and not-so-buried hostilities and pretty touching insights. This is not a loving, supporting family -- the barbs, jabs and physical aggression (between brothers) result in a tortuous week for all, but despite the lingering hostility, biting sarcasm and critical disdain, there are glimpses of compassion that were warm and heartening to witness. Perhaps those rare moments of kindness are even more meaningful for the recipients because they don't come along at a frequent clip with this family. I liked the book a lot and whipped through each chapter (which I think covered each day of the mourning period), greedily.
The timing of the read was perfect. We just returned from a trip back east to celebrate my dad's 80th and step-mom's 75th birthdays. All I can say is that I was VERY fortunate to be raised in a happy and loving environment by two caring parents. My folks really did an amazing job of making us feel like important individual members in a big family. They recognized our strengths and weaknesses, our different personalities and vulnerabilities and parented accordingly. All five of us kids are SO, SO different, I marvel at their nimbleness. Part of the cooky Keats family for nearly 50 years now, I still bask in the warmth of my brothers' and sisters' love and appreciate all my parents did to help each of us find our way to happy and fulfilling lives.
Post Thanksgiving, I declare....I'm thankful.
The timing of the read was perfect. We just returned from a trip back east to celebrate my dad's 80th and step-mom's 75th birthdays. All I can say is that I was VERY fortunate to be raised in a happy and loving environment by two caring parents. My folks really did an amazing job of making us feel like important individual members in a big family. They recognized our strengths and weaknesses, our different personalities and vulnerabilities and parented accordingly. All five of us kids are SO, SO different, I marvel at their nimbleness. Part of the cooky Keats family for nearly 50 years now, I still bask in the warmth of my brothers' and sisters' love and appreciate all my parents did to help each of us find our way to happy and fulfilling lives.
Post Thanksgiving, I declare....I'm thankful.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Cancer & One True Thing
I'm worried about a sick friend. Her cancer seems to be getter the upper hand, but I have faith in her resolve and tenacity and pray that her team of doctors will come up with a new treatment plan that will deliver good results. Gina's proactive management of her disease and her unyielding positive spirit remind me of my mom, so these two amazing women are my inspiration for this post today.
I made the mistake of reading Anna Quindlen's One True Thing soon after Mom passed away after her 5 year battle with ovarian cancer. The activity was masochistic. I sobbed and sobbed, tears gushing as fiercely as projectile vomiting, but I just couldn't tear myself away from Quindlen's depiction of Kathy Gulden's' demise and death. It was if I hadn't experienced enough heartache watching my mom go from power woman to power patient to a frail, hollow skeleton waiting to die. I'm still haunted by the memory of Mom tearfully admitting, "I so wanted to beat this thing, now I just want it to end." That shitty disease viciously tortured my mother and painfully and ever so slowly ate her alive.
Upon reflection, I think I just needed to wallow in the horror, share it, chew on it and hover in the darkness of the mourning process and through Quindlen's novel, I got that opportunity in spades. Soon after though, I was able to move on. No, I don't credit the "read" with this personal growth. At just some random moment in time, I at last could find the "good" that came from that hideous experience. And that gave me the path to grow. In crisis, you witness the best in people. Their courage. Their strength. Their compassion. Their love. It's a phenomenon that transcends your circle of family and friends, it extends to a community that rushes in to provide comfort and support. It's powerful and touching and beautiful.
It's my competitive nature to never admit defeat and so by holding on to the tenets of the good, as detailed above, I proudly proclaim that cancer did not beat our family. Rather, my interaction with the disease taught me some powerful life lessons that have shaped the person I am today. I am strong and I have some serious resolve. Jeff is one kick-ass life partner and the two of us can handle any mess you throw our way. My children are my treasures, they always were, but I will do everything in my power to provide a happy and healthy life for them. I have an incredible family that I love and cherish. My friends feed my soul and spirit. With their support, I can accomplish anything I set my mind to do. My life is a gift and I will never take it for granted.
So cancer, up yours. Mom won. Her battle with you gave me something life-changing. And you can never, ever take that away from us.
I made the mistake of reading Anna Quindlen's One True Thing soon after Mom passed away after her 5 year battle with ovarian cancer. The activity was masochistic. I sobbed and sobbed, tears gushing as fiercely as projectile vomiting, but I just couldn't tear myself away from Quindlen's depiction of Kathy Gulden's' demise and death. It was if I hadn't experienced enough heartache watching my mom go from power woman to power patient to a frail, hollow skeleton waiting to die. I'm still haunted by the memory of Mom tearfully admitting, "I so wanted to beat this thing, now I just want it to end." That shitty disease viciously tortured my mother and painfully and ever so slowly ate her alive.
Upon reflection, I think I just needed to wallow in the horror, share it, chew on it and hover in the darkness of the mourning process and through Quindlen's novel, I got that opportunity in spades. Soon after though, I was able to move on. No, I don't credit the "read" with this personal growth. At just some random moment in time, I at last could find the "good" that came from that hideous experience. And that gave me the path to grow. In crisis, you witness the best in people. Their courage. Their strength. Their compassion. Their love. It's a phenomenon that transcends your circle of family and friends, it extends to a community that rushes in to provide comfort and support. It's powerful and touching and beautiful.
It's my competitive nature to never admit defeat and so by holding on to the tenets of the good, as detailed above, I proudly proclaim that cancer did not beat our family. Rather, my interaction with the disease taught me some powerful life lessons that have shaped the person I am today. I am strong and I have some serious resolve. Jeff is one kick-ass life partner and the two of us can handle any mess you throw our way. My children are my treasures, they always were, but I will do everything in my power to provide a happy and healthy life for them. I have an incredible family that I love and cherish. My friends feed my soul and spirit. With their support, I can accomplish anything I set my mind to do. My life is a gift and I will never take it for granted.
So cancer, up yours. Mom won. Her battle with you gave me something life-changing. And you can never, ever take that away from us.
Monday, November 15, 2010
My Addiction & Birthday Ask
My oldest memories are filled with images of my mom, dad and grandfather sitting in a chair engrossed in a book. It was my destiny to love to read. And I do. To my family's frustration, I can get so entrenched in a book that an earthquake could rumble, walls crash down around me and I'd remain oblivous, unmoved.
Yes, it's almost an addiction. True confessions: I actually mourn the completion of a book, obsessing over the story line and its characters, long after I've read the last page. My bedside stand is always cluttered with a stack of books. I only read one at a time, but I need to see the pile so that I know my next hit is there, just an arm's reach away.
I love my book group, an eclectic group of crazy smart women. Over the years we've covered assimilation in America, hunger in Haiti, class structure in India, the Plague, Napolean and Josephine, immigration nightmares, human trafficking, the Civil War, screwed up families, loving families, tales of friendship and adventure, personal growth, romance, heartache and more. I love sharing book ideas with fellow enthusiasts, discovering new treasures through their recommendations. If I had all the time in the world, I'd spend many a day walking through book stores, browsing through shelves stuffed with limitless choice and possibilities. I take great pride in my book collection -- gems I've gathered throughout my life. Yup, if it's book-related -- fiction, non-fiction, memoir, even children's stories -- I'm engaged.
To commemorate my big 5-0, I'm stealing an idea from a friend, another book-lover. I'm working to create a half century book list which I'm dubbing Cinquenta Tales and need your help pulling it together. Please tell me about your all-time favorite book -- a singular title that you deem as "the best" which I can add to my personal library. For those of you who have children I know and love, please ask them to contribute a title as well -- I'm hoping to make this as comprehensive a syllabus as possible. I promise to spend the next few years reading every book on my Cinquenta Tales list and will cherish the recommendations for an eternity.
I can't commit to preparing detailed reviews of every book in the collection, but I do plan to use this blog as a way of sharing insights or inspirations gleaned from the stories you have recommended. If you would be so kind, post your recommendation here, on my facebook page or send me your picks via email. I plan to post my full Cinquenta Tales reading list in January, after the dirty deed (turning 50) is behind me! So, stay tuned.....
Thanks and love,
Susan
Yes, it's almost an addiction. True confessions: I actually mourn the completion of a book, obsessing over the story line and its characters, long after I've read the last page. My bedside stand is always cluttered with a stack of books. I only read one at a time, but I need to see the pile so that I know my next hit is there, just an arm's reach away.
I love my book group, an eclectic group of crazy smart women. Over the years we've covered assimilation in America, hunger in Haiti, class structure in India, the Plague, Napolean and Josephine, immigration nightmares, human trafficking, the Civil War, screwed up families, loving families, tales of friendship and adventure, personal growth, romance, heartache and more. I love sharing book ideas with fellow enthusiasts, discovering new treasures through their recommendations. If I had all the time in the world, I'd spend many a day walking through book stores, browsing through shelves stuffed with limitless choice and possibilities. I take great pride in my book collection -- gems I've gathered throughout my life. Yup, if it's book-related -- fiction, non-fiction, memoir, even children's stories -- I'm engaged.
To commemorate my big 5-0, I'm stealing an idea from a friend, another book-lover. I'm working to create a half century book list which I'm dubbing Cinquenta Tales and need your help pulling it together. Please tell me about your all-time favorite book -- a singular title that you deem as "the best" which I can add to my personal library. For those of you who have children I know and love, please ask them to contribute a title as well -- I'm hoping to make this as comprehensive a syllabus as possible. I promise to spend the next few years reading every book on my Cinquenta Tales list and will cherish the recommendations for an eternity.
I can't commit to preparing detailed reviews of every book in the collection, but I do plan to use this blog as a way of sharing insights or inspirations gleaned from the stories you have recommended. If you would be so kind, post your recommendation here, on my facebook page or send me your picks via email. I plan to post my full Cinquenta Tales reading list in January, after the dirty deed (turning 50) is behind me! So, stay tuned.....
Thanks and love,
Susan
Startled and Almost 50!
We moved to California in June, 1994. Bobby was nearly 7, Julia was 4 and Audrey, just a wee three months old. That summer, while Jeff immersed himself in his job at Texas Instruments, the children and I set out to explore our new west coast environs. On one such outing, we found our way to Capitola, a small coastal town south of Santa Cruz. After the hour plus drive, the children were eager to hit the beach and in a flash, the four of us raced to the water's edge. After Julia and I gauged the temperature, which was absolutely frigid, we immediately retreated to our blankets. Bobby however, was undeterred and jumped into the waves, boogie board in hand to conquer the sea.
I stood guard, periodically checking on my son's safety. He was paddling like a madman to catch a wave. All was well. Back to Jules and Audrey. When I again checked on Bobby, my heart stopped because he wasn't where I thought he'd be. I raised my line of vision to scan further out into the water, the sense of panic creeping up on me, but with unabashed relief I found him on his board, beyond the crowd of swimmers, where the waves were rising and crashing. I whistled and gestured that he needed to paddle back closer to shore.
A few minutes passed and it became clear that Bobby was ignoring my instructions. I asked my friend to watch the girls and then stomped indignantly towards the water. I whistled again with more urgency and stared out towards my target to make sure he understood that he needed to get his skinny little butt back towards safety. As I squinted to focus on Bobby to make sure he knew I meant business, I quickly got over myself, horrified to realize the issue wasn't of insolence, but danger. The look of panic on my son's face grimly conveyed that he was in trouble.
In a micro-second, I dove head first into the freezing water. The absolute shock of the temperature hit me full force. My lungs, heart, and every internal organ in my body for that matter, gasped in response. I had to instruct my brain to ignore the icy jolt and force my arms and legs into motion. With each painful stroke, I willed myself to get to Bobby. And of course, I did. I wrapped myself around his tiny little body, held on tight to his board and kicked like crazy to move the two of us through the powerful riptide, back to shore.
What's The Point?
I tell this story because recently, I've started having deja-vu recall of the intense physical and emotional shock I experienced on that Capitola day. Thankfully, there were no life or death emergencies that triggered these memories. Rather, all of this resurfaced as I began to recognize (or admit) that soon, I'll be 50 years old. 5-0. The Big FITEE. Five Decades. The reality of "time gone by" has hit me as fiercely as those frigid waves did back in June, 1994.
Have I really been on this planet for half a century? 30 was easy. 40, a blast. But 50....I'm gasping with disbelief. I'm numb. My friends and family who've already reached this milestone will no doubt "tsk,tsk", "chuckle, chuckle" over my self-absorbed and so-cliched reaction to this "big" birthday. But for me, I'm stunned. Though let's be clear, I'm not freaked out in an oh-no, the end is near, depressed kind of way. I'm simply feeling pressed to treat this as an important milestone, an ah-ha moment to embark on a few must-do's for the second leg of my century marathon.
And this blog is Step One in that process. Not sure how pivotal a role it will play in my march to 60 (OH MY GOD -- THAT IS FREAKY TO TYPE!!!!), but it is an out-there enough exercise to force myself to stretch beyond my comfort zone. And fifty of not, pushing yourself is well, just a good thing to do.
Ta-ta.
I stood guard, periodically checking on my son's safety. He was paddling like a madman to catch a wave. All was well. Back to Jules and Audrey. When I again checked on Bobby, my heart stopped because he wasn't where I thought he'd be. I raised my line of vision to scan further out into the water, the sense of panic creeping up on me, but with unabashed relief I found him on his board, beyond the crowd of swimmers, where the waves were rising and crashing. I whistled and gestured that he needed to paddle back closer to shore.
A few minutes passed and it became clear that Bobby was ignoring my instructions. I asked my friend to watch the girls and then stomped indignantly towards the water. I whistled again with more urgency and stared out towards my target to make sure he understood that he needed to get his skinny little butt back towards safety. As I squinted to focus on Bobby to make sure he knew I meant business, I quickly got over myself, horrified to realize the issue wasn't of insolence, but danger. The look of panic on my son's face grimly conveyed that he was in trouble.
In a micro-second, I dove head first into the freezing water. The absolute shock of the temperature hit me full force. My lungs, heart, and every internal organ in my body for that matter, gasped in response. I had to instruct my brain to ignore the icy jolt and force my arms and legs into motion. With each painful stroke, I willed myself to get to Bobby. And of course, I did. I wrapped myself around his tiny little body, held on tight to his board and kicked like crazy to move the two of us through the powerful riptide, back to shore.
What's The Point?
I tell this story because recently, I've started having deja-vu recall of the intense physical and emotional shock I experienced on that Capitola day. Thankfully, there were no life or death emergencies that triggered these memories. Rather, all of this resurfaced as I began to recognize (or admit) that soon, I'll be 50 years old. 5-0. The Big FITEE. Five Decades. The reality of "time gone by" has hit me as fiercely as those frigid waves did back in June, 1994.
Have I really been on this planet for half a century? 30 was easy. 40, a blast. But 50....I'm gasping with disbelief. I'm numb. My friends and family who've already reached this milestone will no doubt "tsk,tsk", "chuckle, chuckle" over my self-absorbed and so-cliched reaction to this "big" birthday. But for me, I'm stunned. Though let's be clear, I'm not freaked out in an oh-no, the end is near, depressed kind of way. I'm simply feeling pressed to treat this as an important milestone, an ah-ha moment to embark on a few must-do's for the second leg of my century marathon.
And this blog is Step One in that process. Not sure how pivotal a role it will play in my march to 60 (OH MY GOD -- THAT IS FREAKY TO TYPE!!!!), but it is an out-there enough exercise to force myself to stretch beyond my comfort zone. And fifty of not, pushing yourself is well, just a good thing to do.
Ta-ta.
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