Things I've Learned: Take 2

When I was flirting with 40, I jotted down some thoughts. People seemed to like them, and I was honored to have them published. As I squint at 50 in the windshield just ahead, I’m finding a few more that keep creeping into my consciousness. 

I’ve learned that home is where the heart is, but that isn’t always one spot.

I’ve learned that no matter how vile and insidious cancer might be, an indiscriminate nature is actually its worst quality.

I’ve learned that friendships are the family we choose. (I realize someone else said that…but I’ve honestly learned it.)

I’ve learned that love is a many blended thing.

I’ve learned that knowing oneself is a process, not a finite conclusion.

I’ve learned that I don’t like reality TV, plastic people or tabloid publications, but I’m a sucker for a great Netflix binge.

I’ve learned (FINALLY) that it’s okay to stop reading a bad book. Well, usually. Most of the time. Okay, maybe this needs to be on the nearly 60 lessons list, because I still feel compelled. 

I’ve learned that regularly laughing until I cry is a required activity for good mental health.

I’ve learned that a child’s joy transfers exponentially to her parents.

I’ve learned that it’s nearly impossible to be in a bad mood when surrounded by sunshine and blue skies.

I’ve learned that someone else’s pain is far and away the most difficult type to bear.

I’ve learned that politics might not be polite dinner conversation, but that rule is dumb.

I’ve learned that animals, music and sports are the world’s great unifiers. (Talk about those at dinner if you’re stuck on the politics.)

I’ve learned that some things are better left to the imagination.

I’ve learned that people are complex and multifaceted, and taking them at face value provides a limited view.

I’ve learned that happiness takes different forms in different seasons of life.

I’ve learned that men are from Mars, and I’ve clearly never been there.

I’ve learned that health is a gift, our bodies really are our temples and life is remarkably fleeting.

I’ve learned that while life is fleeting, some hours, of some days, in some chapters, are loonngg.

I’ve learned that it takes two to make a thing go right.

I’ve learned that the ability to see the glass half full is the single most effective life hack available.

I’ve learned that nostalgia and melancholy are not one in the same.

I’ve learned that hair grows back. Twice, even.

I’ve learned that I’m related to some of the best people ever born.

I’ve learned that while flawed, social media can be an excellent view into a person’s true character.

I’ve learned that body image has very little to do with what appears in the mirror.

I’ve learned that a young woman’s confidence is one of the most fragile, important intangibles in the world, and it needs constant nurturing.

I’ve learned that we should never, ever take a loved one for granted.

I’ve learned that having someone who loves you by your side is all the strength you’ll ever need.

Birthday

On your 13th birthday, my precious daughter, I have so many wishes.

I wish for you to have a razor-sharp "mean girl" detector, and for you to use it early and often.

I wish for the universe to shine down on you in brilliant, kaleidoscopic bursts of luck, leaving rock solid friendships in its wake.

I wish that those same friends will withstand the test of time. And age. And distance.

Oh, how I wish this for you.

I wish for you to have delicious belly butterflies as you experience your first crush. I wish for you to fly straight into my arms when you learn why they call it that.

I wish for you to be savvy enough to know what dangers await you, without testing them.

I wish for you to value wisdom over beauty, and kindness over power.

I wish for you to discover who you are, and then stay true to that amazing person -- come hell or high water.

I wish for you to suffer enough bumps in the road to give you strength and character. But I wish you not a single pothole.

I wish you and your sisters shared secrets and tears and laughter and fears.

I wish for you to create a perfectly imperfect family of your own.  

I wish for you to achieve all of the lofty, extraordinary goals you have already set for yourself at this tender age.

I wish you could have stayed 4 forever.

I wish for you to always like your parents. (This is my wish list.)

I wish for you to enjoy the journey of growing into the beautiful young woman you are destined to become.

I wish you every last drop of happiness this world has to offer.

I wish with all of my heart that all of your wishes come true.

The Write Stuff

When it comes right down to it, there are a really just a few mind-blowing, life-changing moments in your life. For me they came in pithy, memorable little phrases bursting with impact: “Your mother and I are getting a divorce”, “Will you marry me?”, “You realize there are two babies in there, right?” and, more recently, “It’s cancer.”

It’s funny how the words themselves take on a nuance of sentimentality—the positive ones as much as the crappy ones. You realize that those words will stay with you for the rest of your life, and you’ll remember inane details about your surroundings or a tone of voice or what you were wearing when you heard them. Not facts like say, the date maybe. Because, really, when your dad’s leaving or you’re going to fly to Vegas to elope, do you really care what day it is?

My friend Kathy used to use the word nebulous fairly often. I thought that was the coolest thing…nebulous. One of those words that makes you listen more closely to the person speaking. Who doesn’t want that?

There are other, far more common words that are on my favorites list. Chocolate, for obvious reasons. Empathy. Idyllic. Mama. I also love schandenfreude (once someone explains that word to you once, you see it a hundred times in a week and wonder where it was your whole life.) And if I’m being honest, f#ck is right up there.

Words can elicit emotion and inspire actions. They can wage wars. Break hearts. Open possibilities.

Words can also be elusive. I remember random things like a friend’s phone number from fourth grade, but I can’t remember her name. Donna something, I think. I had a hell of a time coming up with the word “speakers” when I was talking to my kids about turning down the volume a couple of days ago. My mom always did that. She sputtered the words in a cascade of related, yet painfully frustrating and incomplete prattle. “Jen, get me the…the…the… red stuff. That you squirt. From a bottle. You know.”

Um, ketchup?

We wrote it off as early Alzheimer’s at the time, but since she’s been doing it for 30 years I have to believe it’s a personality thing. That I apparently inherited. Yay.

Words take on greater importance when someone describes you, often differently than you would describe yourself. “Really? You think I’m effervescent? Huh!” (Which is far superior to, “Really? You think I’m loud? Humph.”)

I make my living by using words in all the right places, in the right ways, to communicate the right messages. They’re pretty important to me. But words are just words. They aren’t actions, they aren’t proof and they don’t count unless they’re backed up. Words have value, but they aren’t the last call. They can’t fix things when they’re broken and they can’t be unsaid. So, like people, words have limits and should be chosen carefully. I’m going to work on choosing the very best ones and avoiding the worst. If I fail, at least you’ll be able to use the whole schandenfreude thing to your advantage.

Jerry Was A Race Car Driver

Even in a mug shot, my man is hot.

Speeding isn't the same as drunk driving or a myriad of other things Hollywood types are getting arrested for these days.

I'll bail him out if needed.

In person, of course.

Synchronicity

Ha! It's like someone has been reading my posts after all...except they're more clever than I am.

You've just gotta love PhotoShop.

Changes

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.

~Margaret Mead

Do The Hustle

I've decided that people need to do more dancing.

In fact, I believe that all of the political tension and rhetoric in this country could be avoided entirely if dancing was a requirement of every American. It could be like taxes or social security cards--an absolute. A necessity.

We'd fight obesity, improve libidos and remove racial and socio-economic barriers. We'd feel happier. We'd have better perspective on what really matters. We'd enjoy peace, love and understanding.

Seriously. Can't you just see John McCain and Michelle Obama gettin' jiggy with it? How could they not come to a harmonious place after that? Like the last half hour of a wedding reception, it's nearly impossible to be at odds with people after you've succumbed to the vulnerability of YMCA.

The answer has been here all along. Now it's time to spread the word, people. Get your groove on.