Old

The Mystery within...

"You look old," said a precocious young boy as he got off the school bus at Riveredge Nature Center where I was volunteering as a Teacher Naturalist.  At first I didn't know how to respond but then I asked him, "Is old good?"  Now it was his turn to pause and reflect.  He didn't answer right away either, but lucky for him, and me, he did say, "Yes."  The lesson plan for that warm fall morning was Sensitizing—creating a sense of wonder and awe by engaging the children in using their eyes, ears, nose, touch and taste in exploring and caring for the natural world around them.  In little Joey's and my exchange we also engaged our hearts.  Our encounter occurred in 2004.  Joey would be a teenager today.  I wonder how he and I would react to one another now, twelve years later.

My thoughts went back to "You look old," when a friend sent me a link to a blog site titled WOW:  Women's Older Wisdom.  It led me to remember old is good.  In my past 72 years I've had ample opportunity to learn from my mistakes, which helps me be more accepting of the mistakes of others, but I also know there will always be more learning opportunities for me.   Now, when I am having a particularly bad day, I can be confident when I go to sleep at night things will be different in the morning.  Maybe not better, but at least different.  And although I have growing physical limitations, through the years I have gradually learned to leave behind restrictions imposed by others.  Would I want to be young again?  I don't think so.  It was a lot of hard work to get where I am.  But I also know keeping up in a changing world is work that never ends.  Creating a sense of awe and wonder that engages hearts is a fascinating work I hope to do until the day I die.

Nature's web of life includes us and our interactions.  I invite you to connect with my readers and me and to leave comments, even precocious ones.  They can make us all better.  Instructions on "How to Comment" electronically can now be found on the top bar above each post within www.godneverhurries.com.  If the commenting instructions aren't clear, let us know.  The challenge of a changing world begs we engage and interact with one another.

What if pause, reflect and share became a part of our every day?

Siren and Flashing Lights

God is...

I pulled over to the curb to let the speeding police car go by as I was on my way to the dog park with my yellow lab Ben. But instead of whizzing on by, the flashing lights pulled up behind me.  Truly puzzled I asked the officer, “What’s the problem?”  He told me my license plates are expired.  I told him that can’t be because I always take care of that kind of thing as soon as I get the notice.  To which he responded sarcastically, “I wouldn’t be pulling you over if I hadn’t verified with Madison that your plates are indeed expired.”

As I waited in the car for the officer to return with my citation I remembered a note I wrote to myself after a previous unpleasant experience.  My note said, “Getting upset is so unproductive.”  I don’t always remember that wise conclusion, but bumping into the law the other day actually became a blessing for it caused me to pause and reflect on the fact that I have been too narrowly focused of late.  Loosing my vehicle registration form in a mess of papers was the proof along with other things I have let slide.  

Lately I have been bent on finishing David Sloan Wilson’s book “The Neighborhood Project – Using Evolution to Improve My City One Block at a Time.”  After I found my registration form and wrote the check, I picked up the phone and called the library to extend the due date on Wilson’s book.  It was so easy to do and relieved me of much unnecessary stress.  It makes me wonder how much else I could let go of, or extend till a later date.  Ironically the siren and flashing lights verified what I am reading.  Life is a pinball machine and how I react to what I bump into determines my progress or decline.  The ability to reflect on my experiences is the vital spark that transforms, and being flexible in how I respond determines my success or failure.  And ultimately I see I am still in process—learning to trust more and remembering that all good things can and do take time.   

Thank God for Ben for he always makes sure I get out EVERYDAY.  Which reminds me we are way overdue for a good long off leash trek somewhere.

What if we could always stop and reflect when bumping into unpleasantness?