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Attaining Wisdom

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High - Low

High – Low (Photo credit: Najwa Marafie – Free Photographer)

As of two days ago, I have celebrated over 50 birthdays. Typically, I view them as yet another day, but as I’ve written recently in this post, I think that it has something to do with my birthday falling five days before Christmas. As now, when I was growing up, everyone was too stressed and overwhelmed with the preparations for the big day to concern themselves with my birthday. I am not saying that anyone ignored my birthday, but I never felt that it was a particularly special day or that I was the center of attention. As a result, I’ve never treated it as a big deal. I have no doubts that others with a birthday close to Christmas have similar experiences.

So, it comes as no surprise that, as I grew older, I viewed my birthday as yet another day. While those around me tended to freak out, as they reached 30, 40 and 50, it just didn’t faze me. I was older but I didn’t feel older or wiser. This year, I feel differently.

For weeks now, I’ve contemplated my life and I tell you that hindsight is a bitch. It shines a light on the past and in all too many cases, not too favorably. Like everyone else, I’ve made my share of messes (intentionally or unintentionally), blunders, mistakes, poor, and I mean poor, choices, decisions and judgments, that I wish turned out far differently.

You know what I mean, those times that you pray for a ‘do over,’ but it is, what it is. I’ve had more than my share of guilt, fear, insecurity, self-doubt, self-sabotage and all the rest. After days of self-flagellation, I’ve realized that none of that crap matters anyway. In reality, it comes down to one basic question: Am I wiser for all of my experiences over the last 55 years?

It is said:

By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest. ~ Confucius

Let me tell you, my path to wisdom has been neither noble nor the easiest. As I am wont to do, I make things much harder on my self then necessary. My lessons learned are hard-fought for and I think, as a result more precious.

I think that it is important for me to note that what I am sharing with you are things that I’ve learned through both personal experience, as well as much reading and research. I am still working through all the “lessons” and will most likely be doing so for the rest of my life. For most of us, life lessons are not the stuff of instant enlightenment, but are the result of simply living our lives. Moreover, in my experience, there is a vast difference between learning a life lesson and fully living it.

There is a definite amorphousness to truly incorporating a life lesson into your life. They have that now you see it, now you don’t quality. When we think that we have them figured out, internalized them and put them at play in our lives, something unplanned happens, and all reason and learning goes right out of the window. There is a reason that they are called ‘life’ lessons. It takes a lifetime of living to reach the point where we’ve achieved an A+. For most of us, that never happens, but the beauty is that it keeps us striving to do better. Sometimes, we have to be satisfied with the knowledge that we are at a point in our development where we are able to discern that a life lesson is at play in our lives. All to often the lesson patiently floats in the ether waiting for us to recognize and acknowledge it.

I’ve realized that although I am no sage or font of wisdom, I have learned some lessons during my decades of existence. My past journeys have been peppered with valuable lessons hidden within the peaks and valleys, and if you think about it, they complement one another. Upon some reflection, I concluded that the valleys (i.e., lows) contain more of what I call the “diamonds in the rough.’ The ‘rough’ contains our heart breaks, mistakes, insecurities, wrongdoings, and everything else that we would rather avoid like the plague. The ‘diamond,’ however, is what awaits us should we have the strength and courage to journey through the myriad fears which composes the ‘rough’ outer shell. It contains the valuable truths upon which we can base a rich and happy life — life lessons and wisdom.

I find significant truth in Thomas Carlyle’s quote that “adversity is the diamond dust Heaven polishes its jewels with,” for I’ve learned that it is through adversity that we discover the most valuable truths, and more importantly, opportunities to gain wisdom.

The peaks (i.e., highs) are what we tend to embrace and attempt to hold on to. As human beings, especially in this country, we strive to be happy and savor the successes, such as love, financial security, good health, and other happiness-inducing moments, at all costs. As this article reports, happiness even directly affects our health in a beneficial way. Who in his or her right mind, wouldn’t chose the highs over the lows?

I have yet to meet one person whose life manages to escape some or all of life’s valleys. For instance, a much sought after promotion brings with it less time with family and friends and a lesser degree of happiness that we imagined. A long-planned for new baby, albeit a blessing and happy experience, brings with it long sleepless nights, less quality time as a couple and a decrease in spontaneity. The list goes on and on. In sum, by definition, life is a series of peaks and valleys, or highs and lows, if you will, and there are few who live lives solely experiencing one or the other.

The key is to find balance between the two. I am sure that you’ve heard the saying that one cannot know the highs without the lows and vice versa. In my experience this is true. The wisdom comes in recognizing this fact and employing it in our lives. In most cases, with our new-found wisdom comes the acceptance that one cannot escape the valleys and that the key is to use that wisdom to uncover the lesson(s) concealed within those times.

In a later post, I will discuss the life lessons that I’ve managed to glean up to this point in my life.

Blessings, Lydia

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Dorothy, We’re Not In Oz Anymore.

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The Yellow Brick Road To Emeral City of Pennises

The Yellow Brick Road To Emeral City of Pennises (Photo credit: Sick Sad M!kE)

As I write this post, I am sitting in my cardiologist’s office awaiting a nuclear stress test. There is no particular
urgency, except for the fact that I am blessed with an overly cautious doctor who believes in preventive medicine. The appointment would not be notable except for the fact that tomorrow at 12:01 A.M., I turn 55 years old.

In the past, birthdays have not been a big thing for me. It was simply another day. Perhaps the fact that I was born five days before Christmas, and rarely received a gift without the disclaimer, “This present is for your birthday and Christmas”, has something to do with it. I really don’t know, but it was always just another day.
Unlike friends who freaked out when they turned 30, 40, or even 50, I took them in stride. I just couldn’t be bothered to care. Why then, does turning 55 cause me such angst?

During the last five years, I had a major health scare. My doctor sent me to the emergency room for what I thought was at worse bronchitis or pneumonia, only to find that I had a blood clot in each of my lungs. I remember thinking that I’d been walking around with not one, but two potential killers in my lungs. Of course, the ER doctor, who’d obviously missed the med school class on tact and bedside manners, said, “You could have dropped dead at any moment.” “Duh,” I thought, thank you very much for stating the freaking obvious.

Anyway, God, the Angels and Saints and my Guardian angels were looking after me, so they caught the offending emboli in time. After four days In the hospital, The hospital released me and sent home on daily blood thinners. Because of the risks caused by the blood thinners, I became very familiar with the techs at the blood lab.

I suppose that it goes without saying that this was a huge scare for me. For weeks, I would go to bed, but I couldn’t sleep because I was terrified that if I did, I wouldn’t wake up. At some point, it dawned on me that the risk of a reoccurrence was remote because I was on blood thinners, but still, the event got my attention. I mean, I’d lived with migraines forever, high cholesterol, high blood pressure and more for years, and most recently fibromyalgia. The difference was that none of them confronted me with the inevitable fragility of this thing that we call life.

Of course, I knew that my life could end at any moment, but when you are young, you hold on to the notion that ‘any moment’ is not now or in the foreseeable future. The young live in an alternate universe where death happens to others but curiously, not to them. Like the rest of us, sooner or later they succumb to reality. Perhaps it is the increasing aches and pains that don’t magically disappear, or the one minute mile that turns into 2, or the fact that staying out “late” unconsciously becomes 10 P.M., instead of midnight or later, or any number of not so subtle hints. In any event, as we age, the ‘merry old land of oz’ dissipates and we are dumped on our behinds in Kansas. The fantasy becomes our wicked reality.

Whatever, the reason for my ‘awakening,” during the last five years, the impossible or remote has become a reality and it scares the hell out of me. I find that facing this hard cold reality sucks the big one! I’d rather live in denial with my head merrily stuck in the clouds. Well, not really.

Getting older is not a bad thing and why we fight it, I don’t know. The fact remains that it is going to happen whether you want it or not. You can go in fighting against it, or you can use that acquired wisdom to fashion a life that is not dependent upon age. What I am saying is that one is funny because they are funny human being, not because of their age; one is kind because they are kind, not because of their age, not because of their age; one is compassionate because they are compassionate human beings, not because of their age. Age is a number, not a sentence. As George Burns stated, “You can’t help getting older, but you don’t have to get old.” Wisdom is a gift of aging, but I am going to  kick and scream to maintain the sense of awe, fun and curiosity of the young.

Blessing, Lydia

P.S. I intended this post for yesterday. I am happy to post that my stress test was perfect and showed no problems.

My Art of Prayer

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MOON

MOON (Photo credit: Nick. K.)

As an initial matter, I want to point out that in this post, I refer to God. That is my preference, but I understand that for others it may be Source, Divine Mother, Universe or what have you. Please feel free to substitute the term that feels right for you.

“At the end of a crazy-moon night
the love of God arose.
I said, “It’s me, Lalla.” ~ Lal Ded (Lalla), a 14th century mystic from Kasmir

Earlier, I was reading this blog and her post led me to ponder the act of prayer. For me, praying is as natural as breathing. I grew up in the very Catholic New Orleans and I spent 12 years in Catholic schools where we attended church regularly. The act of prayer was bred into us. As a child and teen, I prayed about things which as an adult are quite laughable. I prayed that I’d receive certain things for Christmas, I prayed that I wouldn’t make a fool of myself in a PE softball game, I prayed that I could attend a sleep over, and as I grew older, I prayed that a certain boy would notice me, and that I could attend the party of the century, nothing was too trivial to bring before God. At that time, prayer involved getting down on my knees in sublimation, bowing my head with reverence and making an impassioned plea for my request.

As an adult, prayer became less of this rigid, formal affair and more of a way of forming a deep relationship with God and more importantly, a way of communicating with him. In addition to requests and gratitude, I began to, among other things, share my thoughts and feelings, and seek guidance or advice, usually in the form of journaling. For reasons that I cannot recall, at some point, I became concerned about whether I was doing enough and whether I was praying correctly. I was in a quandary because if I was ‘doing it wrong,’ perhaps God wasn’t hearing my prayers.

It was during this period of rumination that I first stumbled upon the above poem. It was so simple and brief that at first glance, I passed it up. Yet, it spoke to me in a very profound and real way, and I returned to it to figure out the reason. I understand that, as with any poem, others may espouse different interpretations to it, but this is my interpretation.

In it, I read that there is no strict formal way that we must pray to be heard. In my mind, the phrase “It’s me Lalla,” implies both a close relationship in which God knows exactly who we are, as well as an approachable God. For me, prayer is akin to talking to a close, special friend that we trust more than anyone in the world. With that said, think of your relationships and particularly those in which you feel a kinship with the person with whom you are talking and perhaps, sharing your heart. Especially in the case of significant or important discussions there is an implied level of familiarity and trust with the person. In the end, we speak to God in a way that allows us to be most open and honest. The poem allayed my fears and concerns.

In my case, prayer became a freer more open-ended exchange. Of course, my adult concerns make those of my youth pale in comparison, but I value my “talks” with God, as an integral part of who I am. Ours is a two-way conversation in which I can rant, rave, question, explain, express gratitude and be exactly who I am, with no doubt that I am understood and loved. I finally realize that as unique human beings, it is little wonder that our methods of prayer, communication and relationship with God differs, and that is as it should be.

Blessings, Lydia

My Favorite Oldies Rhythm and Blues/Soul Talents

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Aretha Franklin

Aretha Franklin (Photo credit: Thomas Hawk)

Music. I love music–all types of music from country, new age, contemporary, jazz, rhythm & blues (a.k.a. R&B), reggae and more. The only genre of music that I am indifferent to, is opera. I was never exposed to it, and as I grew older never developed an appreciation for it.  Of all the genres however, rhythm & blues is my rock.

I grew up listening to what is now considered “R&B” music. I fully realize that the music you grow up with often plays a huge factor in dictating your future likes and dislikes, and that my choices will invariably differ from others. As a teenager,  I used to sit alone, in a dark room, jamming to R&B tunes on the radio. I knew all the words and sang my heart out. I have an okay voice, but believe me, it is nothing to write home about. Anyway, I find that there was, and still is, heart, passion and soul in the R&B oldies that is rarely replicated in today’s music.   Regardless of the time or place, the oldies will invariably stop me in my tracks and send me careening back to that girl singing her heart and soul along with the music that she loved. It is not easy for me to whittle my loves down, but I’ve listed them, as well as little tidbits of information about each one.

  1. Aretha Franklin I adore Aretha Franklin. She instills heart and soul in her songs, and does so better than anyone that I can think of.
  2. The Staple Singers This is a family group consisting of among others, Papa Staples and his daughters. Like many of that era, their music has its’ roots in gospel music.
  3. Al Green He was also known as the Rev. Al Green because in 1976, he was ordained pastor of a Memphis, Tennessee church located down the street from Elvis Presley’s Graceland.
  4. Marvin Gaye When Barry Gordy, head of Motown records, first heard Gaye’s “What’s Going On,” he refused to released it fearing that it was ‘too political.” Although the song refers to the ills of the day, I find that it is equally applicable today. Sadly, in 1984, Gaye’s father killed him.
  5. The Jackson Five Okay, before you call me on it, I admit that the group also sang pop songs, but they also sang R&B and soul music. Given the amount of time that I spent singing and dancing to their music, I can not in good conscience exclude them.
  6. The Temptations A five man group, the Temptations were known for their dance moves and flashy dress.
  7. Ike and Tina Turner A husband and wife duo with a tumultuous relationship. After severing ties from Ike Turner, Tina Turner became a popular solo artist.
  8. Stevie Wonder He was 12 years old when he recorded Fingertips I and Fingertips II.

As I said at the outset, this is an incomplete list of the musicians who affected me throughout my childhood. Yet, they are representative of the music that touched my heart and is seared into my soul. To this day, I am apt to burst into song when I hear a familiar tune.

More than that, I’ve come to realize that,

“Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.” ~Maya Angelou

Much like books, music is a balm for my mind, body and spirit. Through music, I learned the value of acknowledging, expressing and understanding complex emotions. Through it, I learned that music could be my voice, whatever my thoughts and feelings, and that I was rarely alone in those feelings.

What about you? Do you have any music memories? How does music influence you? I’d love to hear.

Blessings, Lydia