Wendy Karasin – Musings of a Boomer

When I lost my parents, my voice found an authenticity that had been forfeited or quieted enough to be unheard. My parents’, near the end of their lives, had a profound impact on unlocking a quintessential part of me. This piece was the embodiment of something so primal that I questioned how to navigate my close relationships as well as with whom to continue relationships at all.

I considered personal, family, and societal patterns. I considered my heart. I was determined to (re)find myself in the mix. Confronted with the typically detached manner in which death is dealt with in our country, I knew that in order to continue living with myself as a daughter and human being, that I would have to find my own path through this under-attended and massive endeavor. My motivation was partially selfish – I wanted to survive without guilt and regret – and partially altruistic – I wanted my parents to have as serene and loving an ending as possible. Opening my heart (which had shut down through divorce and perhaps life) and accepting the circumstances before me, gave me an opportunity to handle pain, loss, even death, differently. 

That’s one of the many examples of being born a Baby Boomer that I love! We question, laugh at, ignore, and change constructs that just don’t make sense to us. 

So, in a return to gratitude, I’d like to enumerate some of what I am grateful for: Health, Family, Friends, Love, Financial stability, Pets, Coffee, Wine, Independence, Growth. My health and financial stability allow me the strength and wherewithal to spend time with my family, friends, pets, and to give and receive love. Coffee and wine are simple pleasures that make me happy. Independence and growth satisfy a deep personal desire to excel and expand. All told, they help to make me a happier person.

When I remember to consider them and I am able to remain in the moment (instead of everywhere else where I have no say or power to affect my life). Nothing new, just a reminder to be here now (wasn’t that Ram Dass in the ’70’s?), coming from love (that’s as old as the Bible), and not sweating the small stuff (which is more recent).

This blog, and I, are evolving and dynamic entities requiring time, attention and care. Our quests to seek balance and gratitude as steady imprints are also oft changing, thus the continual need to check in with ourselves and others, with what serves us (and what does not) and what matters.

One of the benefits of age and experience is learning to enjoy life’s pleasures; an extra moment of sleep, clean sheets, fresh coffee, walks with friends. In our busy, hurried lives, we take for granted, if we consider at all, the important foundational structures that sustain us – love of family, emotionally supportive friends, and health, as well as the more elemental components – no traffic, no toothache, sneakers that don’t hurt. 

One of the reasons yoga has found its way back into my life is its fundamentally inherent system of balance. As time moves on, I am more aware of the significance of balance (and imbalance) and gratitude (and the fear and anxiety that can block it). 

Being grateful for what we do have is not simply an end in itself but part of a larger process that allows peace, beauty and information into our lives. Allowing this peace, beauty and information entrance, sets us up for the betterment we seek by opening our hearts and minds to the very circumstances and people that may lead us there. 

A week spent at Blue Spirit, in Costa Rica, is a study in slowing down. No place to be, nothing to do. If you choose, there are workshops to attend, beaches to stroll, or pools to sun around. In the slowing down, people open up and connect. The first day I had a conversation with Gail about her writings, children and parents. She shared details about Gothic sisters who never married, her father who recently died, a mother who thought children had no feelings.

I shared how the loss of my parents changed me, opened my heart, and produced a book. That for the “me” generation we were considered, Boomers had grown into a loving, nurturing and introspective group. 

The experience softens the rough edged exterior that living in our world cultivates, reminding us that sometimes, in the proper environment, heart centered behavior is not only safe, but rewarding.

Yesterday I practiced yoga, had lunch with a friend, found out someone died, cleaned my house, met with my son’s boss regarding my insurance coverage, conversed through texts with my brothers, and watched Big Brother. Our text conversation covered frying spaghetti in a pan (which reminded one of my brothers of our dad), who my father was hanging with in heaven, and the inaccuracies of our phone’s auto correct systems.

Today Walter, the handyman, is fixing my den ceiling (among other things), which has needed repairing ever since Super-storm Sandy took away our electricity for 11 days and my refrigerator leaked. It is a slow moving, gray day. The weather is cooler and rain is in the air. Two of my kids remain asleep in their bedrooms as I drink a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. I am still, and feeling a bit melancholy today. 

Life is unabashedly dynamic and with this knowledge comes the understanding that nothing stays the same. Not the good, nor the bad. And so, I go through the activities of my day as present and open to its subtleties and nuances as I am able .

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Leaving Jeanne’s yoga class this morning, I received a call from a very important man in my life sharing the news that someone had passed away. I never met this gentleman, but he is the father of someone I do know. His sudden death was a blessing and a curse. He didn’t suffer much, but his loved ones did not have adequate time to acclimate to this finality. My heart goes out to his daughter and her husband, and anyone else close to him. 

The messages and lessons of death are infinite, not the least of which are: take good care of yourself, be kind toward those you love, and live your life fully, as in don’t wait too long to do and say and be what matters most. We live our lives, day by day, as though time doesn’t run out. But it does. Have you done your best to care for your mind and body? Have your words been benevolent, your actions charitable? Do you strive to be a better lover, parent, sibling? 

Life is life with its many ups and downs, but the longer I’m here the greater the importance of being available to others becomes apparent; their pain, joy, minutiae  Dear sir, I hope that you rest in peace and that your loved ones have good memories and loving support to assist them through a complicated and difficult loss.

It was last January that I went to Costa Rica for the second time. I met my dear friend at the Liberia Airport, to spend a week at a vegetarian, holistic center. The experience was powerful partially because of the natural beauty that surrounded us (the Pacific Ocean to our left and the jungle filled with Howler monkeys close enough to touch), and the open-minded caring individuals that gathered from every conceivable vocation and locale.

My friend and I spent 7 days side by side – talking, weeping, laughing. Every morning started with yoga or qigong, all meals were organic and eaten in an outdoor dining room surrounded by beach, ocean and forest. We could  literally feel ourselves slow down and de-stress. We noticed differences in our behaviors daily, spending time with people discussing subjects some rarely get near.

We left feeling revived. A palpable shift had occurred in our beings.