Paula Deen fell under scrutiny recently when it was revealed that she is diabetic. Her worst critics are her peers, the fifty something women who cluck at her bad behavior and respond in a superior fashion with comments like, “I’m not surprised” and “the audacity! The woman now even makes money off the drugs that treat the illness she helped to create”.

I feel for Paula Deen’s health concerns. Our society is facing a health crisis of sorts, due in part to the choices we make when it comes to diet and exercise. But there are issues more fundamental than this and much larger than Paula Deen.

I have not watched her show or read her book, but based on her public persona she exudes warmth, comfort, and sustenance. She is a woman who embraces the fullness of life and makes life’s little pleasures even more expansive. She owns and treasures the richness of her heritage and is not afraid to draw attention to what she sees as abundance.

Paula Deen, and perhaps more importantly, her popularity, reveals our culture’s deep desire for warmth, for nurture, for nourishment. She is a modern-day Aunt Bee. Would we have thrown Aunt Bee to the wolves for loving her family with chocolate cake and sumptuous meals in a previous generation?

Paula Deen and Aunt Bee embody “mother love”. Their ample bodies, large breasts and warm smiles draw us in, promise comfort, nurture and love. They promise food for the body, mind and soul. When our generation took on careers and began to see ourselves as a producer rather than a nurturer we began to disown our very nature as women. We denied ourselves the pleasure, sustenance and fullness that being at one with our nature permits.

We are a generation of women who have denied ourselves nourishment on so many levels. The emaciated models in health and beauty magazines, the obsession with success and perfection at any cost has caused up to see food as the enemy. We see enjoyment and indulgence as stealers of time, energy, and production. Our generation has allowed our culture to deny us our very basic human need for physical, spiritual and emotional nourishment

Food is not a necessary evil. It is our life blood. It is sustenance. It is pleasure. In a very real and visceral way, it represents so much more than mere calories. A good meal is like good sex. Satisfying. Fulfilling. Sustaining. It is not inherently sinful and should not be disdained anymore than Paula Deen or Aunt Bee.

The real issue is a deeply psycho/spiritual one. We are hungry. Deeply, soulfully hungry, but we do not feed our souls, we feed our bodies. Rather than taking the time to rest, relax or play, embracing our very nature as providers of sustenance of all kinds, we feed our bodies. We are stuffed and yet we starving to death.

The insidious nightmare that an abuser creates in the life of the abused is the profound belief that they, the victim, are at fault. The abused go through life trying to “fix themselves” and wondering why they can’t even figure out what is broken. Even if a victim understands that their problems are related to the abuse, true healing can only begin when he/she can shout from the rooftops “This is not my fault. There is nothing wrong with me. I am a good person. I did not create this mess, I simply did what I had to do to survive the pain inflicted on me.” THEN…the abused can move on. THEN…she can say “I will not blame myself one more minute, I will turn my back on abuse wherever and whenever I encounter it and I will live in my strength, in my goodness. It is my birthright. I will block out the voices in my head that tell me I have no value. They are all lies.” In other words, the abused must take back their power, take back their life, take back their heart and soul.

If you have been abused, seek help. It’s impossible to go it alone. If you are an abuser, you are likely not reading this article, but if you know someone who is, encourage him or her to seek help and if they refuse, help the victim, they are the only ones who truly matter.

"Iconic Sports Cheer "The Wave" Turns 30" CBS News

When we moved into our neighborhood fifteen years ago, I did not have any expectations as to what our neighbors would be like.  Our house was one with lots of “potential”, enough property to breathe, in our price range and most importantly in a good school district.  Neighbors would be neighbors.

A loner by nature, I was grateful that our neighbors gave us room to breathe and settle in before descending.  I still shudder when I think of the numerous times my mother grabbed whoever was around (as the youngest it was usually me) and marched us down the street with a plate of cookies in hand to welcome a new neighbor.  I was consumed with the misery of it all as she prattled on gushing warmth and welcome to the unsuspecting individual whose home we had invaded.  They did not know that she was not really like this and although I was sure they were wishing we’d go away, they always smiled and nodded and expressed their appreciation. I was sure they were faking too, but the next thing I knew the said neighbor would be sitting drinking coffee at our kitchen table, depositing all their problems on my mother’s waiting ears. She would console, soothe, and the next day send them more cookies.  I was usually the messenger.

I digress.  The point is this. In years past neighbors welcomed newcomers. It’s just what was done. Not so much now.  Our first encounter with our new neighbors occurred one early afternoon several weeks after we moved in.  The woman who lives behind us burst through her back door wearing a giant, red plaid bathrobe that all but consumed her, night-gown providing the fringe at the bottom.  Three very large dogs, barking and barreling toward the fence that separated our backyards, nearly knocked her over.  Unfazed by either her attire or her near demise she frantically waved and shouted at me trying to get my attention. I had been peacefully filling the bird feeders.  From a distance of a football field, I heard her muffled words between barks that sounded something like, “Hi neighbor! I’m…. Missy. Sorry I haven’t…bark…bark….bark… see you. yip….yip…work nights.” She made no move toward me so I simply waved a giant wave and smiled a toothy smile while making nodding motions with my head to let her know I appreciated her gesture. At least I thought I did! She slipped back in her house and that was the end of that for quite some time.

Shortly after receiving that warm welcome, another woman appeared in our driveway with a stroller containing a toddler and two boys about my son’s age by her side. Self-composed and warm she offered up a loaf of banana bread that she and her children had made that morning. We chatted for a few moments and launched a friendship that grew stronger over the next several years and then she moved half way across the country. We remain very close long distance friends, but no longer neighbors.

That’s the good news. The fact is that I barely even know the gender or the number of people living in the rest of the seventy-five or so houses that surround me.  No one speaks, or nods, or waves as they drive by. That is until this morning.

A few years ago, we acquired a dog and together, he and I enjoy a long walk every morning.  Initially when we ventured out into the neighborhood I felt uncomfortable and afraid. I was untrusting of those who drove by.  I began to think about moving to a different neighborhood, one that would surely be friendlier.

Before I put up the For Sale sign in our front yard (and you know how real estate is these days!), I decided to overcome all of my reserve and began to wave at every car that passed by. I became like the greeters at Wal-Mart and Best Buy, though sadly I understand this is done partly because people are less likely to steal if they think someone is watching them  (also part of the idea behind neighborhood watch).  I reasoned that if people were good people, a wave would be welcomed and if they were not good, they would be more inclined to behave themselves.  It has now become a habit, a mission….a hope.  I even throw in a smile now and again and try to catch the driver’s eye when I can.

Initially, no one waved back. Then, a few began to acknowledge my gesture with a return wave or nod. Today, standing on the side of the road in front of my house, preoccupied with a stubborn dog, I looked up to see a car driving toward us and the driver was waving at me! Wow! Had I had something to do with this turn of events? Maybe….just maybe…

I don’t know how the other people in the neighborhood feel, but I feel a whole lot better about living here. Rather than living with fear and discomfort, I took action. As the self-appointed neighborhood friendliness ambassador (really that’s entirely an overstatement ~ my mother’s genes?), I now even occasionally stop to chat with someone who is outside working in their yard or walking their dog. Have we started having block parties? Not yet. But who knows?

Like the wave in a sports arena,  good will (or ill) is contagious. In a world that has become increasingly cloistered behind computer screens, office walls and overachievement, we have lost touch with some important values and customs that, at least in the past, made living a more comfortable. We don’t have to love our neighbors, but we can be “neighborly”. We can help them out when they need it and chances are they’ll be there for us in our time of need. Good neighbors are like that, and sometimes we have to take the first step and maybe even the second and third.

I suspect that any resolution(s) I make for a new year will go the way of my “list of things to accomplish in 2011″ which I stumbled across quite by accident last week.  It was a spectacular list with 12 carefully thought out, well planned goals I really wanted to accomplish (in that very focused ten minute list making event). Eager to see how many I had accomplished a year later I read through the list. Wow! Did anyone ever say three out of twelve ain’t bad?? I doubt it.

The fact of the matter is this. The goals I set were goals that seemed worthy at the time. Many of them proved to be things I choose not to do. My list was really more of a brain storming session that when pared down resulted in the list that I actually did accomplish. At least this was the rationalization I used when my heart sank at my obvious failure, “you’re right Mom, I never finish anything”. I’ve come to understand that like rules, to-do lists are made to be broken. And so are resolutions.

A resolution is an idea of what we want to accomplish. It’s an idea that we want to improve, change, grow, stretch, improve our days and our lives. When all is said and done that’s the important part of the resolution, that we have decided we want to grow, or even that we’re open to growing, open to bettering ourselves and with that we’re half way home, maybe even three-quarters of the way home. So if we find another means to our end after the list is in place, so be it. I’m a little more at peace with myself and my life this year than last. It doesn’t get any better than that!

So my New Year’s Resolution for 2012 is this: I am going to print the quote you see below and place it on my mirror or bulletin board by my desk and read it as often as possible throughout the year. I may even move it around if I forget to look at it. That’s it. The rest will take care of itself. I invite those of you who share my affliction to do the same.

Happy New Year! May you hear and live your symphony.

]]> http://agingabundantly.wordpress.com/2011/12/30/a-new-years-resolution/feed/ 12 sanderdoe To Live Content-1 http://agingabundantly.wordpress.com/2011/12/28/new-years-news-from-aging-abundantly/ http://agingabundantly.wordpress.com/2011/12/28/new-years-news-from-aging-abundantly/#comments Wed, 28 Dec 2011 19:34:14 +0000 Dorothy Sander http://agingabundantly.wordpress.com/?p=1034 ]]> Wow! Where did 2011 go?! It’s been a gallant year for so many. It has been a year that has tested our mettle and pushed us harder to examine our values and live the lives we are meant to live. I have been lifted up, time and time again, by all of you amazing women who visit my website and blog and never hesitate to leave a kind word behind. One thing that has been reinforced in my life this year is that I really don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not in order to be loved, accepted and appreciated. Sometimes it just requires looking in the right place!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Let’s continue to “run with the wolves” in 2012, pushing our creative boundaries, expanding our lives and loving one another. I will endeavor to do my part.

A few newsy things:

• I was recently invited to write a little something for a newsletter for  film called “Hot Flash Havoc ~ A Film of Menopausal Proportions”.  You might be interested in learning more about this film. (You will find my article, “Just Watch us Go” there as well.)
• I just released a new book called “A Little Book of Hope”. You will see it on the right hand side of this page. It is a collection of my favorite quotes and those that the fans of Aging Abundantly on Facebook have found meaningful over the last several years. It also includes a selection of my writings on such topics as Change, Purpose, Success, Fear, Creativity and more. The book is small in stature (4 x 6) to fit in your pocket or purse, but hopefully, not small in import.  Blank pages at the end provide a place to add your own favorite quotes and thoughts.  It is available through the Aging Abundantly website for a discounted price or through LuLu for full price (really??). Check it out and let me know what you think. I always enjoy your feedback.
• In 2012 I will be featuring a series of guest bloggers to write on subjects of interest to women over fifty (in addition to my own usual ramblings). If you would like to be a guest or know someone who would please contact me by email at AgingAbundantly@gmail.com.  I have a few spaces still available, but they are filling up fast.
• I am also looking for feature articles for the Aging Abundantly website on topics of interest to people like you! Sadly there is no budget for payment at this time but I am always happy to include as many links as you would like. The website is all about supporting women over fifty and the services they provide, so if you have a business with a budget and would like to use it as an avenue for promotion email me for qualifications and a price list.  The readership has grown exponentially over the last year and with any luck will garner more interest this year.
• If you are a proud owner of a Keurig Brewing System let me know. As an Ambassador I occasionally receive free samples and discount offerings through Green Mountain Coffee. (Have I mentioned I love my K-cup brewer?) You don’t even have to be a coffee drinker as there are a wide variety of teas, hot apple cider, cocoa and anything else that is liquid and hot available in K-cup form.
• I also have had an opportunity to preview a Large Print Planner that I absolutely love. It’s made by PlanAhead and in my opinion it’s the way all planners should be designed! Clear, straightforward and easy to read. Even for the not-blind population! Why do planner manufacturers think they have to use very tiny, very faint type? The Large Print Planner is available at CVS sells from $1.99 to $8.99 depending on the size.  I’m hoping to have a drawing for one very soon and  will post it on Facebook (Aging Abundantly).

Enough business! I do hope you have had a meaningful holiday season. I am looking forward to a new year filled with new adventures!

When you reach the end of what you should know, you will be at the beginning of what you should sense.
~ Kahlil Gibran

I have a restless spirit.

It longs

It yearns

It reaches for a tomorrow

Of riches too long imagined

I walk briskly hoping to release

The weighty burden, shoulders drooped

Brow furrowed

Straining, pushing, struggling

My footsteps quicken

To match the cool relief of winter’s air

That fills my lungs and washes

The dark night from a soul

That wants only to land, to perch, to rest

To find the hollow of a tree and no longer

Hear the call that pulls me forward

but instead invites rest.

My eyes drill the pavement beneath my feet,

As if the truth lay buried there

A graceful limb, a nesting chick,

a squirrel in search of his own

Kingly feast, escapes my notice

Then, I hear it. The clear,

Crystalline voice of feathered

Life that cares so little

For tomorrow, or yesterday

Or false imaginings

Her melody lifts my eyes, my spirit

From their wasted, futile work.

Her little bird soul reaches out to mine

And I know she sings of riches

That cannot be sought or owned.

She calls me here. She calls me now.

She is rest.

Sigh. I hate conflict. I hate dissension. More than anything I hate silence. Angry Silence. Passive aggressive silence. Manipulative silence. It consumes my soul. Even a drop of it. But yelling and verbal vitriol? Cuts to the quick. Learning the art of comfortable communication and healthy relationships is a lifetime process. TV and movies would have us believe that a snappy come-back or perfectly spoken and crafted words of wisdom can cure all ills. But, well crafted lines with well crafted responses are not reality.

And so how do we survive? How do we keep a relationship in tact in spite of conflict and disagreement? How do we heal wounds and find peace? Especially when we reach the age where hurts have piled upon hurts and it’s hard to see through to the core of any issue. No argument is every pure.

The one place I always seem to find a respite is when I am able to say to myself: Speak the truth as you know it, Dorothy. Act and speak from your heart, from what you know to be true for you. Do not speak or act to manipulate or provoke or control.  Speak your truth and then be silent. Give the other the time and the grace to do likewise. Listen with your heart and then let it be. Just let it be.

There is no perfect relationship. There can only be love, truth and respect.

Why do we keep trying when history has shown us that the odds are against us?    What is our hope? What is the driving force that will not let us give up or give in?

I can only say, that for me, it is to love again. To find the courage to risk again and in fear and trembling to lay bare my heart, and risk the pain that may come with connecting deeply to another person. Even though they may disappoint or hurt me, It is what I must do.  Even as I ask myself “how many times can I do this?”  I know the answer….until I am no more.

What is the value of life, of my life, if it is not in the giving of love? And the receiving of love. It is the only legacy worth leaving. Really. Once I knew this in my mind and in my hopes. Now, I know it in every fiber of my being. In a visceral, real and tangible way because I have had many, many, many lessons in love. I have been taught by an expert teacher and that teacher is pain. Our wounds are our education. Our wounding whittles away at all those things that do not really matter, that come between us and love. I have become a winnowed woman and I am sure that my lessons are not over.

The pain of living strips us of all but that which is most important and makes room for the perfect healer and that is love. It is the balm of our souls, the ointment that soothes and the powerful source of life itself. Pure love heals all wounds and makes us whole again.

Pain is the perfect teacher, love the perfect healer.

We can plan and scheme and work to our heart’s content to institute measures to prevent unwanted change  and to create only good outcomes. But we cannot plan for everything nor can we foresee what will come our way. Our fear driven efforts to control our world are really quite useless.

The good news is that if we can accept the limitations to our control over the future and become instead like a leaf in a stream, then we can  tap into our real strength and real place of control…our response. Not that we shouldn’t do the best we can to create an external life that is comfortable and secure, but our real efforts are more wisely spent finding our inner security and comfort. When we find a quiet little corner in our hearts where we feel safe, secure and loved then we can face any eventuality without being destroyed.

Life is good. Life is good when we live from the inside out.

Thanks for stopping by. You are important to me and you make a difference to my world.

Dorothy

Living all these years has also given us a wonderful opportunity. Our many years of  making mistakes, wrong choices, wrong actions, wrong thinking has allowed us to amass a whole lot of learning and experience.  In fact, we know so much now that we might even be considered “wise”.  One can only be truly be wise by having tried and failed, loved and lost  many, many times and consequently, be old! So, we should put aside our regrets and grab hold of the gift of wisdom and get busy living our todays.

Being older and wiser is the icing on the cake of life. It is our comfort food to savor and enjoy and it will be our companion for the remainder of our days. It is, in fact, a gift that will keep on giving and growing as long as we choose to live life to the fullest.

We get to know a thing or two about life…to have a few answers, to have a better idea of what it takes to be happy and fulfilled. I just think that awareness might just be worth a few wrinkles, sagging boobs and gray hair. Besides, creases around the eyes enhance our eyes, our soft bodies delight and comfort our grand babies, and our gray hair makes us look like queens. We’ve graduated from our jobs as princesses. Now, we not only have beauty, we have the power of wisdom.