I’m currently in the process of brainstorming, which could be dangerous for a 78 year old woman. The storming of my brain is nothing new, but the subject matter has changed over time. I used to write about funny parenting issues, like watching your toddlers cut each others’ hair, spray paint the dog or sending some foreign object down the toilet.
Now the brainstorming is taking place with a group of 4 women and one man, whose ages span four decades. We’re collaborating on a series of plays that will deal with aging issues like keeping your sense of humor – online dating – technology in general – health issues – hearing, sight and memory loss – death and illness – addiction – and many things that plague us as we age.
These sessions have been therapeutic in a number of ways. First of all, sharing some of our experiences with all these issues has led to laughter which spawned tears of joy, We’re also using our collaborative efforts to do something productive – something that will bring joy to others. The stories that the five of us have shared are enough to keep something like this going for several years.
Blending a number of brains full of creative thought and wonderfully funny memories will often bring out the best in us. You don’t even have to be old to participate. Every one has at least one funny story in their memory. Now with all the technology, the sky is the limit.
OK, we’re aging gracefully, but there has to be a certain amount of fun in the process. Yesterday I was in the midst of a pity party, because the weather in Minnesota resembles that in Orlando – only we aren’t used to tropical dewpoints here. I cannot breathe when the humidity is high, so I must stay inside and breathe air conditioned air. If I go outside I must wear a mask, which doesn’t allow me to breathe. Did I mention that I have breathing problems?
Add that to the fact that there’s plenty I could be doing inside, but I long to be outside working on our beautiful garden. I was also feeling sad because of the state of the world. I’ve had it up to the top of my five foot height with stories of COVID19 spiking again. I don’t want to hear what’s happening on the news. I felt sorry for myself because my aging has settled into my body and lack of exercise has added back all the weight I lost at the end of last year.
I’m also losing my hearing and my husband has to repeat himself more often than not. This has also created some interesting stories – like the night Paul called me to the window to see our neighbor mowing in the dark. I thought he said the guy was glowing in the dark.
All of those things could be a recipe for depression. If I let it, I’ll descend into a pit of despair. Instead I’ll use my ability to recall things from the past and make light of every one of them. Life is too short to feel sorry for yourself. Actually, I’m too short.
2nd Corinthians 4:16 “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.”