Wendy Karasin – Musings of a Boomer

“When I was 17, I read a quote…for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?'” – Steve Jobs

Contemplating death, allows us to choose how we live our lives. There is little that causes us to prioritize importance in quite the way the looming consideration of death can. Until my parents were older, and seriously ill, I cannot say I spent any significant time thinking about death – theirs or mine. But since that 18 month period while embroiled in their illnesses and ultimate deaths a few years ago, I have.

The book I wrote, chronicling this period of time, altered me in ways I could not imagine. Christopher Buckley recently had a book published about losing his parents in a one year time frame. My parents died within three months of one another. I do not have the means or fame of Christo, who wrote a compelling story. And that is one of the reasons (although not the most pressing) for writing about it. None of us make it out of this world alive (as my mother used to say) and as a baby boomer, our parents will (if they haven’t already) die sooner rather than later. Some baby boomers are addressing serious health, possibly life and death, issues themselves. Becoming an orphan, being next up at bat, are the beginning stages of allowing what we fight hard against into the sphere of our awareness. And the interesting thing about that is – it works to make us kinder folk – because it brings us out of our heads and into our hearts and bodies. The ensuing transformation can be stupefying. A tenderness is borne from the vulnerability of loss, as we are engaged in a process greater than ourselves. I write in my book: “What is happening is bigger than I know what to do with, than I know how to write about, than I can think myself through.” And yet, we manage to endure what we may consider unbearable. Humans are remarkably resilient.

If anyone knows of a legitimate literary agent or publisher, please be in touch. Publishing this story would be one of my dreams come true. And thank you, in advance.

We, as Americans, tend to view the word bargain through the somewhat myopic lens of money – as in: Is the monetary cost of this item or service inexpensive or less expensive enough to make it worthwhile? I have learned that the cost of something has many variables other than the monetary value, not the least of which are: time, usage, self esteem, and purpose. If I spend an hour driving to a salon that has a service that costs less than my local salon – have I received a bargain? Or have I spent two hours driving to a see a stylist whose service is less than, or equivalent to, the one I use? Is the new person worth the additional time constraint, car mileage, and gas cost? Is the blouse that costs $13.99 that I wear once, a bargain, compared to the one that costs $99.99 that I wear all the time? The answer is rhetorical, as the point isn’t solely about the money spent, but about the time taken away from something else and whether there are variables within the situation that make it particularly valuable to you. Our conclusions tend to be personal (although I’m sure there are objective constructs within which to view ‘value’) because items and services matter differently to each of us. How important is the type of clothing you wear, your haircut and color, the car you drive? What we appreciate and why is an investigation worth our inquiry. Where did we get the ideas and belief systems we live with? Do they still serve us? This examination works for matters beyond the material as well, like how we communicate with others and whether or not that form of communication is in everyone’s best interest, or our work habits, or the way in which we take care of our minds and bodies. My Mom liked simple, healthy living and my Dad liked adventure and pretty things. I like both, and my lifestyle encompasses both. My parents added a wonderful mix of value (along with all kinds of other stuff) to my life. The longer I am without them, the more I appreciate and miss these intricacies. Which makes me want to communication clearly with the people who are important to me – I love you!!!

The day started in typical Tuesday fashion at my yoga class.  Once again, a great and challenging class ending in a delightful cranial massage that sets me up for a good day. I planned to go home after yoga and do chores; clean, food shop, laundry – all the banal responsibilities that come after a 5 day July 4th break. Instead, I received a call from a friend I reconnected with some years back. “Want to go to the pool?” she asked. “Yes,” I answered, even as I considered the lack of food in my refrigerator for dinner. I have just returned home (the reason this blog post is so late in the making) after swimming and sunning and hanging with my girlfriend. We were friends in elementary school through high school, as were our mothers, but we lost touch through our college, marriage, and child rearing, years.

Reconnecting has been joyful on many levels, not the least of which is our history. We went to Tanglewood together to see James Taylor 2 years ago, and spent a fantastic week in the Berkshires seeing shows, taking hikes, and touring the local towns.  

Thinking about how to spend my time, being more social (but discriminatingly so), and knowing when something is important, have moved up on my priority list. The responsibilities I ticked off could wait, certainly until tomorrow and, if something better should appear, like a friend or son or daughter, perhaps longer still. 

Thank you life for affording me the wisdom to know what matters, and to behave in accordance with that knowledge. I am indescribably content.

Namaste.

Summer has been a beloved time of year since I was young when school ended and camp began. It was the beginning of warm weather, long hours outside, outdoor activities and time spent socializing with summer friends. I went to Camp Calumet in Wingdale, New York and later in Ware, Massachusetts. The camp was run by Bob and Josie Steck, with Sophie, our talented cook. Those were formative years and many of the relationships, although not ongoing, stick with me. Jo Jo Banter who had my exact birthday, Debbie Asten, our mom’s were best friends, the year I was 12 and had two polar opposite boyfriends, Marc (athletic and handsome) and Stanley (artistic and intriguing) and was forced to choose between them.

When I was a young Mom, summer had the same deep breath, relaxed quality. My kids went to camp too, and our days were unhurried. We spent time hanging out, playing sports, reading, having meals on the backyard redwood table. I am reminded of my parents, younger and vital then. I took their involvement for granted. Not intentionally, I just believed they would always remain the presence they were then. But of course, they didn’t, time and change being the ubiquitous elements they are. 

I am most thankful for them, for my children (now young adults), for my friends – who I can share all those wonderful and youthful memories with, for the man I am now spending my July 4th weekend with, and for summer. Life goes on, love goes on, and somehow, so do we all.

If I sounded righteous (or enlightened) yesterday, allow me to describe my morning. Waiting for yoga class to begin, I was mirrored back to myself like a reflecting lake. Seven of us stood outside a darkened and locked yoga studio,waiting for our instructor to arrive. A conversation about lateness spontaneously began (as it tends to) and my feelings regarding punctuality and business etiquette (along with a mild case of Type A personality – although time has softened me) were shared. “Maybe you should consider therapy?” a woman said. Really? “I don’t know, I get that it’s a challenge and I’m working on it,” I answered, surprisingly nonplussed. Our instructor arrived at 10:!0 for our 10:00 class, waving and smiling.This is my second class with this woman, and I like her a lot. She’s young and cute, with a vivacious yet peaceful personality and her yoga class is superb. But the pièce de résistance is the cranial massage she offers at the end of class while we rest in shavasana. She dips behind my resting form and pushes my shoulders down hard, which provides a wonderfully grounding sensation. With essential oils she then begins to massage my face and head which manages to both rejuvenate and relax me. I leave the class feeling calm and centered, fully awake and present, ready to start my day. By the time the end of class has arrived, I no longer care when it started. I am not saying that I support lateness, I do not. But I am saying I am not going to spend my energy feeling annoyed or upset about it. If this woman’s class is worth attending (which in my humble opinion, it is) then I accept her rules of the game. The rules of this particular studio may be very relaxed, (zen, even) and my pushed buttons are there for me to deal with. And so it is.