Fortyness - Life is Like a Box of Choco....No, a Hunk of Swiss...

If you were in any way conscious between the 1990's and now, you probably associate this "box" line with a popular movie and the surprises you get inside delicious pieces of chocolate candy and from life.

I have another theory.....

Life is like a Hunk of Cheese.

Yes, cheese....Swiss cheese....

You may or may not be a swiss cheese fan, but one thing for sure you probably know what a piece of swiss cheese looks like. It is generally light in color with well formed holes in it. If you go into an artisan cheese shop you will see huge wheels of the flavorful substance sitting proudly on the top of displays with the iconic wedge cut out of it.

But when you look at it, it is the holes that stand out. It looks almost as if something is missing. The focus is placed on what is lacking, on the empty spaces, and on the incompleteness of the cheese. What the cheese HAS is forgotten.

The holes got in the cheese through a process. After the cheesemaker has taken careful steps to prepare the cheese, it is left for ripening. In this time the different milk sugars, acids, and proteins that make up cheese base begin to separate, transform and undergo chemical changes. It is a long and seemingly tumultuous time for the young wheel. As these changes occur the holes start to form. When the cheese wheel has undergone all of the trials and tribulation of the aging process, it reaches maturity. What is left is a hunk of smelly, yet carefully crafted cheese with well defined and large holes. In the world of cheese, these holes are called eyes.

This is sort of like life. In fortyness we have reached the maturity stage. We have gone through the process of having different people, experiences, ideas, world views and personal traits mixed together as our life base. They have mixed and ripened for the last 40 years and as a result, we have undergone changes. In that time, there were some holes starting to take hold. Some of the holes were a result of bad relationships, illness, or loss. Other holes were from the everyday tasks that wear us down and tire us out. Whatever the cause, as the tumult and trial of incorporating all of our past experience occurred, the holes became well defined, empty spaces in our selves. By the time we have ripened, what we often see is what is NOT there - what we are lacking.

But, remember, in cheesology, those holes are called eyes. The holes we see in ourselves can be eyes as well. It seems that if there were never any difficulty or loss in life that things would be great. If there were no challenges, life would be smooth an easy. Just what we want....right? But what if life had been smooth and mellow, like a nice brie? When an issue came along we would not be able to stand up and conquer it (remember, brie is a soft cheese that gets all melty in the heat.....). To withstand the holes, we must be strong and stand firm. The holes do become a permanent part of us; a part of our structure. But they also can become the eyes through which we can look at life with wisdom and experience. They can help us see the beauty of what we do have if we so choose to look through them, not at them. The holes have strengthened us and allow us to stand up and conquer the heat of life. Have you ever tried to melt a piece of Swiss?

One final thought....

If you are a brie fan, please don't take offense. But, it is a very boring cheese with not lot of texture. When you slice into it it is homogeneous and plain. On the other hand, when you slice into a wheel of Swiss, there are a multitude of designs and patterns inside. It is fragrant and interesting with no two slices looking or being exactly the same. Embrace your holes, look through them and not at them, and you will see the reward of what time, ripening and maturity has left you with.... your beautiful hunk of cheese.

* Image by thenoodleator via Flickr

Fortyness...The Long Run at 9000 Feet

I am a runner.

I run several times a week. And although I am not a marathon runner (I have run 1/2 marathons) the distance I can run is respectable. I am not the fastest, but again, my endurance is nothing to laugh at.

I run in the Sonoran Desert. It is sometimes extremely hot. Predawn runs can be as hot as 90 degrees at the onset. It can also get pretty cold. Early morning runs can be in the 20's in the winter time. But, regardless of the weather outside, I am very consistent in my dedication to pounding the pavement. Understanding my conditioning and the conditions that I run in most of the year, it always astonishes me how a change in scenery can change the effort needed to complete my runs.

In the summer time, I head northwest of my desert home and spend some time on the western coast of our great country. My stay there includes a beautiful and relaxing trip the Sierra Nevada Mountains for a week of family and fun...and of course some running. Some hard running. Some very hard running. It's not that I am changing my mileage. In fact I run fewer. It is not that the weather is any different - it is really much more pleasant.

It's the air. The oxygen more specifically.

My desert home is at about 1000 ft elevation. My mountain runs are at 9000 ft. The air is pretty thin. I have to put out twice the effort for the same benefits. I have to adjust my pace, adjust my breathing, adjust my steps. If I don't, I'll probably end up flat faced on the side of the road feeling like my lungs have collapsed. The trick to finishing my runs is knowing what I have to accomplish but adjusting my stride, strategy and energy outlay, and adjusting the expectations that I can have the performance at 9000 ft that I do at 1000 ft.

Fortyness is a time of changing elevations. We run along fine at an elevation one moment, and in the blink of an eye, life has tossed us into another. You probably know these moments..... finances are moving along nicely and then a huge bill for a repair or a loss of a job happens..... you are feeling really good about how you have parented your kids then a kid "crisis" happens...... your relationships have seemed content and comfortable then are suddenly in upheaval. All of these things are like being dropped at a high altitude at a full run.

Adjustments in strategy and energy outlay become a normal part of life as we seem to have half the gain at twice the cost. To make it through, we must adjust our stride, making some steps smaller and some larger. We may need to reassess the rout or make a detour on the course, understanding that our performance may not be as stellar in these times. We need to be aware that the amount of oxygen dwindles in some moments of fortyness, and do what we need to do to keep our lungs full so we can continue on. Most importantly, we must keep our eyes on our end goals. The route is rarely easy. but if we stay dedicated to the journey, we can successfully finish these long runs at 9000 ft.

Fortyness..... Caging Your Big Green Parrot....

On some days, in the calm of the Pasadena California afternoon, the peace can be broken by the unmistakable and out of place shrill squawks of green parrots. Theses parrots aren't part of someone's aviary or pet store. They aren't the "little old ladies'" companions sitting on their little wooden stands in the windows of the city. They are wild yellow headed amazon parrots that live and breed in the trees of Pasadena. For those of you who are geographically challenged..... Pasadena, California is really, really far from the amazon. There are lots of theories about how the parrots got into the wilds of Pasadena, from smugglers releasing their stash, to a bird store fire mishap, to owners releasing them because they couldn't keep them. Maybe no one will ever know the whole truth about how they got there, but the point is they are there.

These parrots started from just a couple of birds and now have multiplied into whole flocks of birds that have not only survived, but thrived. They perch in the palms that line the streets of the humble city screeching to make their presence known. There are actually committees and projects dedicated to the feathered palm frond ornaments. The birds, that had they originally been kept caged or confined, now require the time, energy, manpower, resources, clean-up services (you know what happens when birds perch), and commitment of the fine people of Pasadena.

So here's the big question.... WHAT DO GREEN PARROTS HAVE TO DO WITH FORTYNESS????

Those green parrots are like irritants, problems, issues, or vices that may now be consuming in this part of life - in fortyness. It could be something like recognizing that all those years you thought you were easy going, you realized that you were really always accommodating - and you're tired. It could be an issue in a relationship that was easy to overlook when you were younger, but now is an overwhelming hurdle. It could be a vice that you thought you could indulge in occasionally and keep it in check, but now runs your life. All of them started as a parrot that was let loose and eventually took over. In it's beginning, it seemed harmless- after all, what is one bird in an entire city? But, like the birds, it multiplied and now inhabits, and can inhibit existence because of the energy it takes to manage it.

But, it's not to late to do something about it. With the wisdom you've gained throughout your life experience, should have no problem identifying your parrot (be honest with yourself now). Figuring out how to catch the bird may take a bit more effort, but it's not impossible. You've lived a lot of life already and come through a lot of things. You can do this. Confining your feathered "friend" takes dedication, determination, and a desire to truly change things. It will be worth it. Life can be so sweet, so peaceful, and so clean if you find the way to cage your big green parrot.

* Image by http://www.flickr.com/photos/petepictures/

Fortyness - Life in the Doldrums

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A doldrums is a still state, a state of non-movement, a state of non-growth, a state of stagnation. Upon the sea it is a treacherous state to be in. It can be the death of a sailor, leaving the boat stranded in the vast ocean as but a stranded speck upon the unending water. The sailor is dependent upon the wind and currents to move the boat - to take it to its destination. The sails can be raised, the rudder can be moved, but without a wind or current, nothing happens but a stirring of the water and the hanging of vast pieces of fabric. Although it takes skill to maneuver the boat among the water, the sailor, with all the ability in the world can go nowhere if there is no energy or force to propel the boat.

This idea of stagnation, of stillness, of being stuck in a state, knowing that there is a destination to reach but a lacking of energy to get there, can apply to people as well. This, to me, captures a lot of what Fortyness is.

In this era we have been propelled by the forces of life. We have reached goals in careers by hard work and choice that have been a catalyst for much of what we do and how we exist. Educational goals have been or are being met. The hard work and time investment in our higher learning cast us into social and academic circles that helped us to understand who we are in that setting. We may have had marriage of family responsibilities that dictated what and who we needed to be, not only by necessity, but also by choice. Who we are has been defined by what roles have occupied the prior years of our life.

But as this era of fortyness settles in, our identity comes into question. A period of redefining begins. This period often times feels without a driving force. It is in many ways like a doldrums.

As our age increases, we see the time we have to truly understand ourselves seems to decrease. We search for meaning in life, in relationships, in work, and in many of the things that used to serve as the fuel of our identity. At the same time, the roles we have depended upon are changing. The frenzy of parenting in many ways slows. There may not be much left of accomplish at work. We have the degree, now what? The forces that helped to move us along suddenly slow, and then stand still. We look for another destination that we know is out there, the destination of our true identity, but we have no movement toward it. We are stuck pondering. We are in a doldrums of life.

So what do we do?

If the sailor were to not continue to raise the sails, he'd not be able to test the wind. If he didn't eventually move the rudder, how would he know it there were any current? If he were to simply give up, he'd surly be lost at sea, never to reach the destination. So he continues on with the motions of sailing, hoping to find the hint of movement. Eventually, the sails catch the wind, and he is on his way again. We need to be like the sailor. We need to continue on, searching, asking and pondering who we are, and going through the motions of life. Eventually we will find a new fuel in our fortyness that will bring us to our destinations of knowing our identity. It may be just a small breeze that our sails catch or a raging storm, but undoubtedly, we will move from the doldrums and back into the currents of understanding who we are.

Fortyness - Walking a Mile in Their Shoes

If you are a mom, you know that no one knows your children better than you do. You have the intimate knowledge of them to know just by looking at their eyes that they have strep throat or a sinus infection. You know from the moment they come out of their rooms in the morning whether they are going to have good days or bad days. You know by their stature when they walk in from school or away from a chat on the computer if they are dealing with friend issues, heartache or disappointment.

I have three beautiful Baby Hats, A,B, and C. They were precious baby girls that are now turning into amazing young women. Am am in awe everyday of who they are and what they are becoming. They will truly make a difference in the world in some way. I couldn't be more proud of them.

Being a woman I have always felt like I had an advantage raising girls. I know that many of the things that they will experience will be the same things that I experienced growing up. Heartbreaks, hormones, homework - I can relate. Friendships, fearing the future, feeling awkward at times - I've been there. Sadness, success, silliness of being a teenager - this mom has lived that too. I understand the intricacies and bonds surrounding growing up with sisters. I know the insecurities, the joys, the quirkiness and challenges of growing from a girl into a woman.

I know my babies intimately. I know their hearts.

However, as well as I know them, I know there is much that I don't know about them. They may not reveal every fear, every joy, every interest, or every concern to me. My desire in my fortyness is to know them even more. I want to know them more to help them navigate the roads that lie ahead of them in life. Even though I have traveled them, their own experiences change the terrain. In order to guide or even walk with them, I want to be familiar with the roadblocks, u-turns and forks that they may have to negotiate.

This year on my birthday, I am giving each of my daughters a gift. I am giving them a pair a canvas tennis shoes in my size and a pack of permanent markers. As a gift to me, I am going to ask them to put on these shoes, all the things that make them who they are - hopes, dreams, fears, disappointments, successes and failures. Whether they choose to simply write words or create pictures to represent, it doesn't matter. This is something for them to express who they are...so I can know them better.

When they are done with these shoes, I hope to be able to be a better mother to them. I hope to be able to understand their hearts even more. I hope to be able to have a deeper connection with them as I put the gifts on my own feet and walk a mile in their shoes.

Fortyness.......

I turned 40 this year.

I didn't really mind it. As my birthday approached, I didn't feel the loom and doom of the age suffocating me. I didn't feel the need to hide my chronological age behind the guise of the everlasting of the 39's. I didn't lament my last day in my 30's. In fact, I remember my last day in my 20's being much more difficult and emotional. 40- I didn't mind it....at least not from the aspect of being old.

As the day I celebrated my 40th year on this earth came and went, I was pleasantly surprised at how well I took it. I had a lovely day with my family and my parents who drove 400 miles to celebrate it with me. I was conscious of how "undifferent" 40 felt from 39. I though to myself, "This 40 thing is a breeze!"

But as the days and weeks of my 40th year passed, a funny thing happened. I uneventfully but steadily descended into fortyness. It wasn't a single event or a single day, but an accumulation of a lifetime of experiences, memories, circumstances and relationships that rattled around deep inside of me and quietly created where I am today - in fortyness.

This fortyness thing makes me look at my world and the things in it a lot differently. It affects how I view, assess, and react to almost every aspect of my life. Kids, work, education, body image, relationships, personal responsibility, parenting, friendships, material stuff, you name it, fortyness changes how it looks.

It's funny how I remember when my parents turned 40....it seemed so.....well....old. Now, not so much. In fact, it doesn't feel old at all. It is liberating, comfortable, and at times, challenging. It is a state of being, not an age that defines us. We define it. Do I mind it? No. Does it cause some change and discomfort, both good and bad? Yes.

Over the next several months, I'll be returning often to and writing through the lens of fortyness. I know I can't be the only person who is in this place. Hopefully you can find something you can connect with and, in these writings, find a place where you can see that you are not alone in your fortyness. As always, I'd love to hear your comments.

On the Hunt...

It's here! It's here!!!

It's that time of year when the stores are overrun by pastel colored stuffed bunnies, plastic eggs, a bagillion different types of candy all donning their spring wrappers, and of course, the classic little yellow marshmallowy .....mmmmmmmmm...Peeps!

It's Easter time again.

Even though my baby hats are all turning into young women, they still look forward to the fun Easter activities they have done since they were little. Easter egg hunts, Easter baskets, new dresses, and dying eggs - there are 18 boiling on my stove as I write this, are still a hallmark of the holiday. They are an expectation and a tradition in my household. The Easter grass, the smell of vinegar in the dye, and the inevitable egg that gets forgotten - this time of year just would not be the same without them.

Of course it is a lot of work for me. It gets tougher to find stuff to stuff in eggs and baskets as they get older. Dying the eggs is far from an unmessy activity. And yes....I will even have to untangle the brushes of my vacuum cleaner every time I run it for the next 6 weeks as it sucks up the grass that made its way from inside the basket to tangled in the carpet. Even though it sometimes feels that they are getting too old for it, that they don't appreciate it, or if they've driven my nuts and I feel like they don't deserve it, I still do it. It's a sacrifice of time and a labor of love. But it is all a small price to pay for something that brings my girls joy. And it in no way compares to the price that was paid for us.

We have fun and partake in all of the fun "Eastery" stuff. We always have. It has brought a lot of pleasure to watch the girls hunt for their eggs hoping to find their heart's desire hidden in each little plastic egg.

But, the central focus has always been the true meaning of Easter. They know that the gift they have been given his far greater than what any egg or basket can hold. It goes far beyond the temporary pleasure of the sweet chocolate bunny in the pretty foil. It is a gift that is everlasting, eternal, and by far, the most precious thing that has ever been given for another.

It is the gift of forgiveness and salvation. On this Easter we will again remember and celebrate the sacrifice and labor of love that Christ gave for us. He gave his life for us, in exchange for our sins. He took the pain for us, as undeserving as we are, so that we would have eternal life in heaven. That is the true gift this Ester.

This Easter, when the hunt for treasures is on, remember that the temporary treasures and pleasures will be hidden in the grass and under the bushes. But to find the eternal one, there is no need to look ant further than the cross.