Once More, Into the Breach

The Universe has come around and roadblocks have unblocked themselves, as they always do.

My inner Ganesh has graced me with the ability to recognize my own obstacles and how I build them even higher when I can't see a way over.

It has been a wild few months of uncertainty, shedding of the old skin, growing of the new skin, reconnection with things that are essential and turning my back on things that are not.

My ability to say "no" and to not carry other people's baggage became supremely important during this time of evolution for me.  I don't apologize for making people unhappy because of it.

I just don't have the patience to parent grown-ups. I'm happy to walk side by side but not to carry.

Be that as it may, I go once more into the breach. Into the unknown and into the path less travelled.

This means wonderful things for me: new job, new home, new city.  This is a path that has been 5 years in the coming and I get to keep the very best of my old life: my partner, my dog and my belief in myself.

It's not easy to leave. It's not easy to shed, pack up, start fresh and jump into the breach - again.

But you know what? Rebirth isn't just for newborns. Rebirth is a gift we can give ourselves.

I'm looking so forward to breathing my first breaths in my new life and to dipping my toes in an ocean of new.

Reconnecting the Body Disconnect

Over my lifetime I have been friend and foe to my body.

I think I have been more of a friend to my body since my major injury and back surgery put me in the hospital and I learned to marvel at the wonders my body had to heal itself and carry me through all that pain and lack of strength.

The odd thing was, I didn't really "move" at all for 2 weeks, lying in my hospital bed on "do not move" orders from the surgeon and I lost 20lbs. My body just shed weight.  I actually ate more food and lost weight.

Why? How? I was stressed before I made it to hospital. I was in a great deal of pain that I couldn't manage. My body was broken and I couldn't fix it.  I put on weight for 6 weeks before I was taken to hospital in the ambulance.

So how did I lose 20lbs while lying in a hospital bed, ostensibly only burning calories through sleep and lifting my arms to feed myself?  I think it was because I wasn't stressed. I knew that I was in the hospital, my pain was fully and completely managed and I was going to have surgery to fix my busted spine.  I had nothing to worry about.  My cortisol levels decreased dramatically and I shed unnecessary weight.

I have discovered that whenever I'm feeling stressed - and I focus on the FEELING part - that I gain weight.  I could be working out more, swimming more, eating less, being more busy and I will still gain weight.  As soon as I feel pressure, stress, insecurity for any reason, my body goes to work preparing for uncertainty and famine by storing excess energy.

I don't tell it to, it just goes ahead and watches my back that way.

I have inherited a genotype and phenotype that must have been ridiculously advantageous in the Evolutionary Environment where my human ancestors won the natural selection war by storing energy as soon as the environmental pressures indicated change or stress.  My genetic lineage has been finely honed to survive harsh winters, lean times, times of uncertainty and food insecurity.

Only problem is, I'm living in 2011 and not 10,000 years ago during the last Ice Age.

I have found that when I'm feeling stress, I disconnect from my body awareness.  My animal brain busies  itself with the task of keeping me alive during a crisis while I focus on the stress.

When I wake up from my disconnect I have inevitably gained an unwanted 20lbs and rail against my body for being so damned efficient.  This only serves to disconnect me even further from my body.

My amazing body keeps me breathing, keeps my heart beating, heals itself when I break it, keeps going when I don't want to any more and puts up with any manner of tortures I decide to put it through.

I get angry at my body for doing what it has been genetically hardwired to do, for MY survival, over millennia of trial and error and genetic mutation and adaptation.

I have decided I must be mindful of my body and not just my mind. Though I live fully in my mind when I'm experiencing stress and my cortisol levels shoot through the roof, triggering my energy storage, I must stop and think of what this does to my body and how I punish it for doing it's job.

I'm not going to punish myself or my body for being so efficient in the face of perceived physical, emotional or resource danger.  I just have to figure out how to take back the reigns, relax into knowing everything is going to be ok and let my body feel that too.

I have to reconnect to that hospital bed, to the feeling of being totally safe and taken care of....even when the sheep dip is hitting the fan.


Photo of Venus courtesy of Clarita at www.everystockphoto.com see further work at http://claranatoli.blogspot.com/

Movin' On

You know what? It's time for you to get over it and move on.

Life isn't a dress rehearsal, it's "go" time all the time.  You missed that memo?

As adults we don't often get do-overs or backsies.  Those happen on the elementary school playground, not in adult life.

He isn't a Wagon Wheel you trade up for.

Didn't see that before hand?

Suck it up.

You had your chance.  You had lots of chances.  You took them and wasted them.  Now you regret it.

So regret it.

You still love him?  That's great, because he's definitely worth it.

You wasted the greatest gift of all...you wasted his love for you.

You made all those moves and all those choices as an adult.  You can't blame anyone but yourself.

Your regret doesn't change  that you helped him fall out of love with you, little by little.  You broke his heart moment by moment so that by the time he physically left you, his heart wasn't in residence there anymore.

That's a shame. But it's done.

Suck it up.  Be a grown up. Own your part in it.

Love him.  Then let him go.

Because he's gone already.

Your guilt-trip riddled, poor-me, boo hoo thing is tiresome.

You know what? We're over it.

Between an Obstacle, a Roadblock and a Ganesh

Obstacles, Roadblocks and Detours surround me at the moment.  I haven't figured out why, but their presence is undeniable.

I had a mini-revelation yesterday, that my obstacles are stubborn like an elephant...which lead me to an image of the Hindu God, Ganesh - Lord of Success, Beginnings and Remover of Obstacles.

Can someone be both the source of, and the remover of, an obstacle? I think it's the same question about the devine residing both within you and being you.

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end", or so the saying goes.

If I could just "see" the new beginning, I'd feel more confident in my ability to climb over the obstacles, roadblocks and detours.

Time to source out my own, inner Ganesh.


Image of Ganesha courtesy of marcuso and www.freedigitalphotos.net (see marcuso's digital gallery page here)

Stasis

The online Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines Stasis as:

: a slowing or stoppage of the normal flow of a bodily fluid or semifluid: as a : slowing of the current of circulating blood b : reduced motility of the intestines with retention of feces

2

a : a state of static balance or equilibrium : stagnation b : a state or period of stability during which little or no evolutionary change in a lineage occur.

That's where I am. I'm in stasis.  I have stalled. I am in career and personal stagnation. I'm not evolving. I'm not growing. 

I'm not gaining any "experience" because you have to be hired to get experience but you can't get hired because you don't have the arbitrary numerical cutoff of requisite experience.  I am caught in an economic and job-related snake that eats it's own tail.  I am in a circular life event.


At least whirlpools eventually lead to the bottom of the ocean.  This is like being in a vacuum.

Did I put myself here? No.  At least, I don't think I did...but it seems as though the Universe has been hard at work realigning my footsteps so that I would wobble and fall off the path I had just found.

I thought I was past this point of groping in the dark, self-discovery, reinvention and perpetual striving to keep afloat.   


I have done everything right and I still find myself in the 99th percentile of my definition of success.


I know what I want. Stagnation isn't it. STASIS isn't it.


I feel like I'm staring at the sun, willing it to move.


MOVE DAMN YOU.


What do I want?


I want a career where I make a difference to the health of the population of my province.  I want the opportunity to give back and make lives better, healthier, longer, add life to years as well as years to life.


I want to move to the Island and live in Sooke.  I want that before the close of 2011.


I want to feel like I have something to hold onto; something solid.  Not a person, but something I made.  


I want the sun to get the hell out of my way, because the more the Universe says no, the more entrenched I'm getting.


I want coaches and Pollyanna's to shove it.  I don't need sunshine and rainbows and cheers and smiley faces.  

I want opportunities for change. I want clear direction. I want a career that I busted my butt for, to start.

I want to be able to take myself and my partner on a well-deserved vacation - not to a free forestry camp site somewhere, but in another country, on another continent.

I tell you what...stasis can take a long walk off a short cliff into the Georgia Strait as far as I'm concerned.

Blockages, Roadblocks & Detours Build a Little Birdhouse In My Mind...

They have moved in; all three of them.  I didn't really prepare the guest room for them, but they've made themselves comfortable.  Looks like they will be here for a while.


All the best laid plans and education in the world can't prepare you for the kick to the pills that comes when the potential dream job for which you interviewed, email breaks up with you.


It's just so harsh. So cold. So digital for this analog heart...


All those dreams and imaginings of joyfully sharing the world that you traded up. Dreams of telling E.I. that you just don't need their help anymore.  Dreams of packing up and moving away to start the career you should have had from the start.  Dreams of showing that you got up, brushed off the humiliation of being laid-off from your FIRST dream job and went out there and did one better...they all got tossed out of my mind the moment I read the potential dream job break-up email.


Then? Vacuum...followed by the sounds of mini saws, hammers and steel toed boots constructing the official offices of Blockages, Roadblocks and Universal Detours.


They have moved in and built that little birdhouse in my mind.


I hope they don't poop on my head EVERY day.


There's a song for that (thanks to They Might Be Giants)...

In advance of butterfuly vomitus...

In advance of what might become a major turning point in my life, the life of my partner AND our dog's life, I'd like to thank the Universe.

That is, I'd like to thank the Universe in advance of anything...well...that might make me seem silly over the next few days.

I have a tendency to get silly when I am nervous. I smile a lot more. I laugh for seemingly, no good reason.  It gets awkward.  I'm kinda like a socially inappropriate chimpanzee.   I'll blame my genetic linkage to my chimpanzee cousins what with 96% of human DNA being identical to that of the chimpanzee.  

Human origins...whatcha gonna do?  Thanks for that, too Universe.

I promise not to start chucking rocks or fecal matter.  Cross my heart.  You can thank the Universe for that.

But holy smokes, am I nervous.  As a matter of fact, I think there could be butterfly vomitus (thanks Melissa, for the visual).  I imagine it would resemble a rainbow. A rainbow with wings...and antennae. 

I have to pick out clothes that can hide said butterfly vomitus.  What's the best kind of gum to chew when your breath smells like butterflies?  Something colourful, to hide the stains.

I thank the Universe for colourful, fruity gum. I thank the Universe for stain resistant, modern fibers. I thank the Universe for teaching me how to twirl a pen and bob my foot...so I can be nervous AND have a couple of "ticks" to fall back upon.

I thank the Universe for sending me on this journey of opportunity, no matter what happens. 

Just think of me as Unervous in the Universe. With rainbow butterfly wings on my tongue.

EEP.

Above & Beyond

I don't think a single person that I have spoken with in the past week has come away unaffected by the events unfolding in Japan's north eastern region after the devastating double tap of a 9.0 earthquake and tsunami off the coast of Sendai.

I have had to limit my own access to information and news in an effort to maintain some positivity, some perspective.

I am, by nature, a "doer".  I DO things.  If I see someone in need, I help.  Watching footage from Japan has left me feeling helpless, unable to DO anything, ultimately ineffectual.

The most I could do immediately following the tsunami, was to donate what I could to the Red Cross  but that left me feeling so distant, so removed and more like a person who tosses coins to the homeless than a person who builds a home for the homeless.

As the crisis in Japan further unfolds into potential nuclear disaster after the rods in reactor's #3 & #4 are left largely un-cooled, the entire world has become gripped with fear - seemingly frozen in disbelief and developing panic.

In spite of this fear, panic and surrounding tragedy, my heart is lifted by the humanity being shown by people all over Japan and the world.  People are coming together to do something MORE, something above and beyond.

The 50 TEPCO employees now referred to as the the Fukushima 50 (#fukushima50 on Twitter) are facing injury, illness and possible death while they scramble to rehabilitate the overheating reactor cores and restore power and cooling systems in order to avert nuclear disaster.  These people, these 50 people, out of a world population of over 6 billion, are doing what each of us cannot.  Ultimate sacrifices for their people, their country and their planet.  My heart soars and sinks at the same time.

At the same time that this massive human tragedy has occurred, there has also been a massive animal tragedy. The video of a dog that wouldn't leave it's injured dog companion in the aftermath of the tsunami, leaves an indelible imprint on an animal-lover's heart.  Pets, our beloved animals, are going above and beyond.

Pets - beloved dogs and cats have been killed, injured, abandoned and lost in the wake of the earthquake and tsunami devastated areas of Japan's north east.  World Vets are mobilizing to Japan in order to provide veterinary care to these same animals and they need donations to make that rescue & care possible.  Vets are going above and beyond.

While all of these selfless people (and even animals) are going above and beyond, we here in North America are surrounded by individuals focused on the panic, on self-preservation and activation based on mis-information and half-truths.  Spending hard-earned money snapping up iodized salt and Potassium Iodide pills from profiteers on eBay is insulting in the face of total devastation, ultimate loss and uncertainty in Japan.

It is times such as these, when it is for Humanity to come together, to perform as a Gestalt, to be more than the sum of it's parts.  It is times such as these, when Humanity MUST go above and beyond.

Stop glaring at CNN.  Stop gobbling up disinformation, half-truths and poor scientific interpretation.  Get off the couch and go above and beyond for the people and animals of Japan.

One day, it could be you needing to lean on Humanity's great shoulder.

Private Painter, a Painter for Money

Suddenly, I find myself a painter. A private painter. A painter for money. I'll paint what you want me to paint a la Tina Turner (but without the hot legs with restless leg syndrome).

What started out at painting something fun for a friend and being paid for supplies has suddenly become painting pet portraits and commissions.

Who saw this coming?  I didn't see this coming.  My dog probably did see it coming but got distracted by the red ball before he could give me the heads-up.

Now I have to figure out Paypal, buy supplies and get myself a shop on eBay.

Heaven preserve us. 

Note - I will not, under any circumstances - paint a velvet Elvis or flowery vulvas.

I'm not that kind of desperately out of work Gerontologist.

...And Lo, There Was Disorientation

How does that quote go?  "Sometimes you're the dog, sometimes you're the fire hydrant"? 

It's my turn to be the fire hydrant.

Two weeks ago this coming Monday, I was laid off from what I thought was my dream job.  A divine opportunity to develop as a professional.  A chance to really make a difference and create a niche for myself.  A chance to use all of the education and training I have gathered.

It really WAS that job.

Until it wasn't.

Now, I'm in that limbo.  That place of uncertainty where you question how you made yourself so expendable, so non-essential, so lay-offable.

It's in this limbo space that I find my self bruised and constantly checking out the corner of my eye for the next kick in the pants.  This experience has made me anxious - not just about now - but about the future.  I feel unsteady, like I'm standing on ground in the midst of a liquifaction.

With this unsteadiness, I find myself forced to look at pages where "experts" tell me how to buck up and suck it up and move on.  Sites which try to coach me.

Right now, I don't want a coach, I want a job.  I don't just want ANY job, I want a job where I use my education - all three degrees. 

I want a job where I count.  Where I make a difference.  Where I'm valued for my contribution.  Where I'm necessary.  Where I'm included.  Where I'm part of the future.

In the meantime, I'm hanging out with my dog.  He doesn't judge me.  To him, I count, make a difference, I'm valued, I'm necessary and I'm part of his future.

I'm no fire hydrant to my dog.

Adventures in Canine Joy

It has been a long, long time since I had a moment to add anything here.  My thoughts have been on the back burner while career and our big move have taken the front position in all things.

Three weeks before our big move we adopted a dog from the SPCA.  This dog, this canine ambassador for the SPCA is a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a condundrum.

We have the joy of being the adoptive family for a white German Shepherd that we have named Gunner.  He is approximately 4 years old.  He is a devout follower of the Red Ball religion. He has very clearly been loved at some point in his past because he came to us resplendent with "sit", "up" and "lie down" skills as well as a strong desire to retrieve and bring us the toy.  He's "too big", "too long" and the wrong colour to be a "good" German Shepherd if you read anything online.  I say phooey.



He's whip smart, I'll tell you that!  He escaped his crate on Thursday.  I came home, unlocked the door, opened it and was greeted with doggy nose and a full tail salute.  I have no idea how long he'd been free in the house but not a thing was out of place.  Nothing was chewed.  All was well...

Gunner isn't great with other dogs unless he's off-leash.  His hackles come up and he starts to hyperventilate.  I don't understand it, but that's how he is.  We have lots of dog politeness and socialization to work on but honestly, he's a joy.

I don't know if its us who are giving Gunner joy or the other way around...frankly I think it goes both ways.

We are eternally grateful to Charlotte at the Vancouver SPCA for choosing us as Gunner's adoptive family.

We love you Charlotte!!!

Hallalujah - Moved by Olympic Spirit

I have been moved.

In a completely unexpected and unforseen turn of events, I broke down and watched the opening ceremonies to the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic Games.

I have many conflicting thoughts and feelings about the cost of the games relative to the economic crisis much of the world is in and how many people have had to go without in order to make the games possible.

Its no secret that I resent the ownership of the games by corporate sponsors who have little to do with sport and much to do with product positioning.

That being said, I was moved.

I was moved by the place of importance the four host First Nations of B.C. took in welcoming the world's athletes to the games.  I was moved with the inclusion of representatives of Canada's First Nations covering the north, east, west and plains peoples and Metis.  It made me deeply proud to see First Nations art and imagery integrated into ceremonies in which they too took part - that the art and imagery wasn't just used because it would sell. 

I was moved when orcas slipped through the pacific ocean and spouted  right across the surface...

My heart swelled with pride and recognition when the poet Shane Koyczan recited his poem "We Are More".  He spoke thoughts and words right out of the hearts of millions of Canadians.  He got a rousing applause for "please and thank you" as well as "zed".  He hit the nail right on the Canadian pride head.

I had tears in my eyes when the Georgian team walked solemnly in to BC Place Stadium to a warm standing ovation, without Nodar, black arm bands and sadness all over their faces.  I was touched when he was honoured by Jacques Rogge before the official speeches and I was solemn when the minute of silence in Nodar Kumaritashvili's memory was marked.  In a building filled with 60,000 people and flags at half-mast, you could have heard a pin drop.

But when KD Lang stepped up on her platform and began her stirring, heart-calming rendition of "Hallallujah" written by Canadian song writer and artist, Leaonard Cohen, I just had to stop and watch.  She sang the heart right into that song.  The song came across as a prayer for Nodar AND a prayer for peace.  The simplicity of the setting for her barefoot performance made the song all the more poignant.  There was nothing to distract us from hearing every word.  She plucked at our heart's chords with a cheshire smile, a white suit, candle light and a voice that just curled around you and held you tight.

Romeo Dallaire, that amazing man with such a heavy soul walked in bearing the Olympic flag.  That was a "YES" moment.  That man deserves so much and he has done so much in the name of Canada.  

In the end, the opening ceremonies were moving.  They moved me for so many reasons, and I never saw it coming.

Is a Number a Value or A Symbol?

I have a friend...a friend I met through work, but we both work in the long term care industry.

My friend is afraid of a number. She's afraid of the number 30.

My friend is currently 28 years old and the mere IDEA of being 30 hypnotizes her with unparalleled fear.

To me, age is a number. Its a relatively arbitrary number. In Western culture we measure 1 year as one earth cycle around the sun. But in other cultures, time and age are measured differently.

I don't know what is so scary about the number 30.

I suspect it is not the age itself that is frightening the birthday cake out of my friend, but what it represents.

To me, 30 means leaving childhood behind and embracing adulthood. 30 is a rite of passage that is hard earned through enduring high school hell, first jobs, failed attempts at real relationships and learning to expect better.

I think 30 is the point at which you don't just learn to expect better, its the point at which you GO GET BETTER. You make it happen.

As a Gerontologist, I look at age from a different perspective. I look at age as a chronological marker of time and also as a subjective experience. I know lots of people, including myself, who "don't feel their age".

So my question is this: Is a number a value or a symbol? Is 30 a numerical time marker or is it a symbol.

If its one or the other or maybe even a combination of the two, why is 30 frightening?

30 has "empowering" written all over it in my books...

Do I Stay or Do I Go?

I find myself in a bit of a conundrum.

I have finished my M.A. in Gerontology and need to find work in my career field.

To be more specific, I need to find work related to my education, in my field AND work that contributes to, enhances and furthers my career path. As much as I appreciate having a job, I can't live as an admin assistant forever.

The problem is that I have been in school, busting my brain for several years. During those years I didn't gain any real experience in the working side of my field, save that gained during my 300 hours interning with the Provincial Government.

That internship seems now, to count for very little and the job market is more than a little depressed.

I feel like leaving to find opportunity and betterment anywhere but here. Yet I'm not alone. Any decision I make to stay or to leave must be made with consideration for my partner and his family as well as for mine.

Finding career opportunities for myself may be detrimental to my partner and visa versa.

I could go to Kamloops where he has a job opportunity, but I don't know if there will be anything there for a Gerontologist.

I could leave for Ottawa where careers for Gerontologists in public health are more fruitful, but there could be nothing for him.

We could move to Vancouver Island, be bound by the Ferries and perhaps neither one of us will find work.

Part of my conundrum is the lack of awareness in both private industry and in health care, as to how to utilize Gerontologists who are not nurses. It seems that the entire LTC industry is built around licensing and policy that has nurses at the core of practice.

Gerontologists aren't all nurses, its true. I most certainly am not. Part of the barrier I'm running into, is the lack of awareness that Gerontology is the scientific study of the biological, psychological and social aging process over the ENTIRE LIFESPAN. Take a gander at the diversity of research being conducted at the Simon Fraser University Gerontology Research Centre here.

Knowledge of aging and the aging process, healthy aging practices and age friendly planning is not only applicable to older adults! Aging happens to every human being from the moment they are born. One does not have to be a nurse to have a positive impact on the aging experience and quality of residents in long term care or living independently in the community.

Gerontology and gerontologists can contribute to ANY environment in which there are goals to enable people to be healthy, live well, die well, support themselves and maintain their independence and achieve quality of life not just quantity of years.

This applies to policy development, community planning, city planning, care facility and hospital design and planning, activity and recreation planning and health programming both at the community level and the home or facility level.

Where does aging happen? All over the world, wherever people live, all day long, every day.

So, my dilemma is - Do I stay or do I go?

Attention world: Gerontologist At Large.

Adventures in the Salty Deep End of French Cooking

 

We have been making our way through Laura Calder's French Food at Home cook book. So far, only victories.

That is, until last night.

Last night we decided to jump into the salty deep end of French cooking; by this I mean, dabbling in anchovies.

Whoa, whoa, whoa...I know...anchovies are not to be treated lightly. Anchovies are fishies that are either the source of gastronomic love or hate.

We were feeling adventurous and still riding high on our recent cooking and baking victory euphoria.

We decided to make Calder's version of Passaladiere, a southern French pizza style bread baked with an onion reduction, tomato slices, black olives and a lattice of anchovies.

Jump in, throw off the bow lines, sail away!!!

So we did. The passaladiere came out of the oven a veritable joy to the senses. It was visually stunning, smelled amazing, the crust was so pleasingly toasty and crunchy....mmmmmmm.

Then the first bite..............

Umm....errrr........

Salt. Salty salinity. So much salt. If you can get brain freeze due to salt content then that's what I had.

I ate two slices. My partner took one for the team and ate four slices. I love him. He loves me, and told me it tasted good. I marvelled at his tongue's tenacity in the wake of the saline rush.

This morning, I bought a used version of the Larousse Gastronomique. Within its multitude of pages, under A, I found a reference to anchovies - my new, fishy enemies. Deep within that reference to the hated fishies was a notation regarding "De-salted anchovies".

Wait.

WHAT?!

De-salted fishies.

A complete revelation. Anchovies may be in the deep, salty dark end of French cooking but there IS a lifeboat!

The lifeboat is filled with milk.

Merely soak the dreaded anchovies in milk for an hour to release the salt and proceed as normal.

Thanks to Larousse, anchovies have been saved from the back of the black book of banned food items.

Unfortunately, Laura Calder failed to include this little nugget of anchovy parlance in her recipe for Passaladiere.

If it were up to Calder, we would have written off those deadly salty little bastards for ever.

Because of Larousse, I may once again, dive into the briny deep.

Maybe.

I'm not sure.

I may just drink milk instead.

The Power of Humanity Compels You...

I can't tell anyone what to do.

I also can't do much myself.

What I can do is donate to the Canadian Red Cross and Doctors Without Borders online in order to help fund supplies and aid to the impoverished and devastated nation of Haiti.

I'm a hands-on, lets fix it now kind of person. Since I can't get my hands on and I can't fix it right now, the best I can do is send money...

I hope the power of humanity compels you to do the same.

Please visit the Canadian Red Cross site here and Medicins sans Frontieres Canada's online donation page for their emergency fund: here to make your contribution to the international aid efforts.

Music + Aging = Powerful Healing

If you have not had the immensely moving pleasure of watching "Young At Heart", an independent Fox Searchlight film about a senior's chorus in M.A., then you need to make it a priority.

This chorus is filled with humour, kindness, wisdom and wild rebellion. It is awe-inspiring and heart-stopping.

Every day I come across ageism and people who underestimate the power of and value of, older adults.

To each of you who commits ageism I say, watch this film. I DARE you not to change your mind about aging and the older adult.

Click on the title of this blog post to watch Fred Knittle cover "Fix You" in tribute to chorus members who had passed away. I dare you not to shed a tear.


Fix You Lyrics
Original Artist: Coldplay
Sung by: Fred Knittle in Young@heart

When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse.

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above earth or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream, down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face and I...


Tears stream, down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face and I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you.

Hypertension is Not Just an Older Man's Game

Yesterday, Scienceblog.com listed an article about the connection between hypertension and the onset of dementia in 1,403 older women (65+) based on the Women's Health Initiative Memory Study (WHIMS)published in the December 2009 online issue of the Journal of Clinical Hypertension.

Results indicated that women who, on entry to the WHIMS trial, had elevated blood pressure had significantly higher amounts of white matter lesions in their brains, when they underwent MRIs at follow up, eight years later.

The study co-author, Dr. Wassertheil-Smoller suggests that women should maintain their blood pressure at normal levels, thereby also reducing their associated risk of dementia.

Once again, body weight, stress, hypertension and lifestyle congregate. Much of what happens in older age is NOT BECAUSE of chronological age, but because of lifestyle.

Take note...your quality of life in older age is dependent upon your lifestyle NOW.

I <3 Science

I'm a nerd. I love science. Carl Sagan was one of my childhood heroes.

I do not believe that a "God" or "Gods" created our Universe or that I was built in one of their images.

I believe I am the product of 3000 million years of planetary evolution.

I find the Universe, Evolution and Human Origins and behaviours even more exciting and even more worthy of wonder and delight BECAUSE of all the unlikely little molecular and chemical accidents that had to happen in order for our lives to have happened.

Thank you Carl, for telling me about the "billions and billions of stars"...

Thank you David Attenborough, for explaining the world to us all...

Thank you Jane Goodall for showing us how close we are to our evolutionary cousins, the Chimpanzees and for showing us our humanity through their behaviours.

I heart science.

Thank you to Melodysheep for making this sciency music video :)

Sexy Seniors

I wonder every day, how and why it is the norm to expect people to age OUT of their sexuality?

Why is the idea of an older adult who is sexually active and INTERESTED in sex, still a taboo?

As a society we increasingly accept images that use younger and younger girls and boys in sexualized costuming and body stylings to sell us dreams and products. If you doubt this, just consider the new, sexy stylings of the Strawberry Shortcake doll and Bratz dolls here

The idea of older adults who live in a care facility seems even more abhorrent and I don't understand why. People who live in care facilities have been adults for most of their lives and many of them have lived with a partner or spouse for most of their lives as well. Many of the women have been widowed and many of the surviving men who live in care, are alive and well in the sexuality department.

I understand the dilemma that arises (no pun intended) when sexual interest emanates from someone with a dementia because this raises the issue of CONSENT.

But life in a care facility aside, why can't seniors be sexy?

Part of what makes humans so social, is the need for touch. Without touch human beings fail to thrive as was shown by landmark studies by Harlow in the 1950's (link to studies). Why would a human being stop needing to be touched merely because they have reached some chronological milestone, retired, become widowed or moved into a care facility?

I say that older adults need touch - and by this I mean CARING, loving touch, not care giveing touch which comes with ADL's or toileting. I say that if an older adult can find pleasure and joys in touch with a partner, then age should be of no concern.

I say sexuality is the right of every person and the right to enjoy one's own body or that of another, willing partner, should not be taken away or be shunned because of wrinkles, gray hair, poor mobility or poor vision.

I say, embrace the sexy senior. Why? Because that's life and that's living. The future seniors, those in the Baby Boomer generation, will not accept being robbed of their personhood OR their sexuality the way it is expected and accepted of seniors today.

Be prepared to see more of the sexy senior because the Baby Boomer generation will be bringing their sexual revolution into the senior era of the future...