THANKFUL FRIDAY

Karen Walrond’s soon to be released Radiant Rebellion has got me thinking about the language we use in regards to aging and I haven’t even read it yet. She’s been promoting the book for a while now on social media and put out a call recently to sign up to be a part of her launch team, but even though I will drink whatever kool aid Karen is serving, I did not sign up. I have too much going on right now to give it the proper attention it deserves. Today is my exception because all the little quotes and podcast clips she has been posting recently feels like something to be shared in a gratitude posting.

One of the topics that Karen has addressed in a recent podcast is the business of anti-aging. The anti-aging market is estimated to be an over 200 million dollar industry with a target group of women in their twenties and thirties. That target age group is really interesting if you consider that the average life expectancy of ancient Greeks was 20-35 years. Of course now, people live well past twice that age. (Insert spooky ghost voice) Beware…you are going to live past the age of 35….You don’t want to look as if you have. The industry is conditioning us early to maximize the number of years you’re going to throw money in their direction. Every single time I open Instagram or Facebook, I will see as many ads for ‘looking younger’ or ‘losing weight’ as I do of the content that I intentionally follow. Face exercises. Miracle weight loss supplements. Diet plans. Wrinkle serums. Anything that will “make you feel and look years younger.” This industry has done a stand-up job of turning the word ‘old’ into something to be feared and despised. The very act of aging is generally frowned upon and has turned ‘old’ into a negative descriptor.

This has really shined a spotlight on my own language around using the word ‘old’.

I’ve always been a believer that age is relative, but like a sponge I had started adopting old to describe how I am feeling both physically and mentally. In the last few weeks, I have made a conscious effort to change that. Instead of whining that I feel old, I say that I feel tired or my knee aches. Instead of lamenting that I look old, I say my face looks puffy. What I have discovered by changing my language around old is that it is making me honest. I’m just telling the truth and in telling that truth, I am presenting a problem that I can then find a solution to. Make time for rest. Take an aspirin for my achy knee. Use my neti pot and take some allergy medicine for my puffy face.

I don’t know how many times I have seen or heard a story of someone reaching the age of 100, recounting the things they have witnessed and the joy they feel to be alive. Each time I am awed by their tales and can only imagine what a spectacular life they have lived. Am I so different at the age of forty seven? Maybe it hasn’t been spectacular by some standards, but oh, the things I have been a witness too. Sure, I’ve witnessed some tragedies. I’ve seen two space shuttle explosions, the Murrah bombing, 9-11, not to mention personal tragedies. But I have also been a witness to some pretty great things in history like the fall of the Berlin Wall, the start of the Internet, amazing breakthroughs in science that have led to better and more effective treatment for diseases like cancer and HIV. This list could go on and on. I mean, electric cars and robot vacuums?!? We’re practically living a cartoon life. And I’m only forty seven! There is so much more to come.

Old is something to be celebrated.

I know this gratitude post kind of sounds like a birthday posting, but maybe everyday we get out of bed and live our lives is worth celebrating like a birthday. I can’t wait to read Karen’s new book and to be inspired in finding the various ways to celebrate aging. If you haven’t pre-ordered the book and would like to be part of the rebellion, just click on the words Radiant Rebellion in the first paragraph. This will take you straight to Karen Walrond’s book page.

EYE SEE YOU

The eyes have it

4 Likes, 2 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "The eyes have it"

Last week, I finally went to the eye doctor to see about getting a pair of glasses that I would actually wear on my face. I only put on the pair I own now when I am going to seminar and I need to see the screen. I forget to take them with me when we travel and the results are that I am the last person to see a license plate or a street sign. This is bad because we always try to collect all fifty states when traveling and I am also the navigator. Looking down at something up close through my current lenses makes me want to throw up. I'd probably wear them more maybe if I wore them on a fancy chain around my neck, yet more proof that I am eighty, but I don't.  So I went to the eye doctor and told her that I wanted bifocals and the biggest frames they had. 

I figured that if I had giant frames, I wouldn't notice that I'm wearing glasses all the time. Then I discovered that I could get trifocals which would allow for an intermediate focus between up close and far away and I fist pumped the air. Golden Girls, here I come! I also found out that I have a scar inside my left eyeball (probably from changing and aligning a mercury bulb on a microscope). The scar is not a problem because it's outside of my field of view. Some times, science is dangerous. Did you know that Marie Curie's notebooks and diaries are still radioactive and that you have to wear a protective suit and gloves to read her stuff? Dangerous. 

The woman helping me pick out frames was very patient as I tried on practically every single frame in the office. She showed me one brand that allows you to pop off the sides and swap them out. I said "Oh! They're like the Swatch of glasses!" and then she looked at me funny. I asked "Did I just make a reference to something not many people get?" She said "No, I get it. It's just that you're not old enough to get it." Then we had an argument about how old I was and I was like "LOOK WOMAN! I am here for TRIFOCALS!" She looked at my chart and then at me and said "I never would have guessed that!" I told her she was very sweet, but the birth date on my chart is, indeed, correct. Then we had a nice chat on growing older because she's several years older than I am.

I decided to go with the very first frames that I had tried on. They're big and kind of clear with a slight cat eye shape. Hopefully by this time next week, I'll be sporting a new pair of glasses that makes me look like my Mom circa 1978. Too bad I won't be as skinny as she was then. 

THE UNSINKABLE MOLLY BROWN

Instagram photo by Cindy Maddera * Jan 9, 2016 at 1:46am UTC

See this Instagram photo by @elephant_soap * 7 likes

Forty is just around the corner. A week and some days away. I want to tell you that I am still super excited about forty. I want to tell you that I relish in the idea of growing older. I can't wait to live in one of those retirement villages with shuffle board and canasta and shuttle rides to the grocery store. (There's a weekday here where a shuttle bus drops off a bunch of elderly people to do their grocery shopping at Trader Joe's. I will be part of their community one day!) Woo-Hoo! Forty is going to be SO.DANG.AWESOME! These are all things I feel in my heart and soul. These are all things my body is not feeling right at this moment.

Saturday, Michael, the Cabbage and I all attended a family yoga class. We had fun jumping around pretending to be animals. Then I bent over to put my shoes on and I couldn't get back up. It was like someone had stabbed an oyster knife into my sacroiliac joint and was twisting. Et tu Brutu! I sort of wrenched myself up through the pain and mumbled something about my back hurting. Then we all got in the car and headed to IKEA and I just pretended that there wasn't an oyster knife sticking out of my back. When we got home, I was sitting on the couch and Michael looked at me and asked "Are you OK? You look like you're about to cry." It's hard to be OK when someone has obviously mistaken your SI joint for an oyster.

I pulled all of my yoga tricks out of the bag and nothing worked. This is how I found myself sitting in a chiropractor's office yesterday, having my spine photographed. I had maybe three vertebrae that where not in some state of impingement. My back resembles a deflated accordion. Many pops and some shock therapy later, the oyster knife was removed leaving behind just a dull ache. I go back on Thursday for more adjustment and to get a "wellness plan" for a happy spine. Thursday will be followed up with several more visits to get me back into a less sad accordion shape and into a happy, dancing accordion shape. Hoopa! I'm sore but standing up straight no longer makes me teary. 

The receptionist at the Chiropractor's office was entering my information into the computer when she realized we had the exact same birthday. She said that this is the first birthday she was ever hesitant about. She asked me how I felt about this one with it being sort of a big birthday. I replied "I think turning forty is going to be GREAT!" and as I leaned forward saying this, I winced in pain. I remember my friend John telling me about how his body completely fell apart when he turned forty. He said that all he could do was live on his couch for a year, but he feels great now and he's in his fifties. I guess I just assumed that all my years of yoga would protect my body from wear and tear. In some ways it has. I'm super flexible! I know how to get myself off the floor without causing more damage. I walk all the time. Actually, I'm in better shape now than I was in high school. I'm skinnier, my diet is better and I'm more active. 

So fine. I have a few more gray hairs and some of those have shown up in my nose and eyebrows. I've been experiencing pre-menopausal symptoms since August and my back (violently) went on strike for a few days. I got on my mat today and it was glorious. OK maybe not glorious. But it was pretty great. I know forty is going to fantastic. I still stand by my belief that forty is the year I pass over into the spectacular years. I will not be swayed. Forty is going to be amazeballs. 

I just have to convince my body of this. 

BECAUSE YOU ARE OF THAT AGE

Every time I put on one of these gowns I think of Mary Jo from Designing Women. #womenshealth

"Every time I put on one of these gowns I think of Mary Jo from Designing Women. #womenshealth"

I'm not even sure where to begin with this post. I had my yearly women's health exam and before every one gasps out an "are you OK?!?!?!" I will say that I am doing just fine. My doctor is nice and funny and easy to be around which is important when you're trusting someone to touch you uncomfortably. She is also my age. Now usually, I would be pleased about having a doctor who knows about this age of a body. She gets it. She understands what's happening to a female body as she reaches the just about forty age of her life. Except this time around she kept saying things like "we should do some blood work. Cholesterol, sugar, thyroid. Because you are of that age." When I grumbled something about my weight, she just waived it off and said "that's just part of being this age." She didn't seem all that concerned about the four pounds I'd gained since the last visit because I was still exercising  and getting on my mat regularly. Then, even though I am not required to get a mammogram until I'm forty, but because I had "issues" two years ago, she sent me down for a mammogram. Because I am of that age.

Before I go into my rant about "being that age", I have to go on a tangent about mammograms. It's been two years since my last mammogram and the place I go to now has the regular 2D one and a 3D one. The 3D mammogram costs $30 out of pocket because most insurance doesn't cover it. This makes me angry for a number of reasons. First of all the 3D option has shown to be more accurate in detecting cancerous areas than 2D. Though it still requires smashing your boob, it does not require that your boob is smashed as flat as a pancake. The 3D option has reduced the number of call backs and biopsies due to an unsure result of the 2D mammogram. You know that time I had to go in and have two cysts removed because they didn't know if they were cysts or cancer? It's quite possible that would have never happened with if I'd had the 3D mammogram. If I were an insurance company, I'd much rather pay the extra $30 a year for this test than pay for the huge expense of breast cancer treatment, let alone the cost of an unnecessary procedure from an unclear test. But again, that's a completely other tangent and not where I had intended this entry to go.

Any way...my doctor..."being that age"....Every time she said it, I could hear it in her voice that she was saying we were old. At one point I wanted to shake her and tell her to just stop. "We are still young! We are so freaking young! Thirty nine is not old. Forty is not old. We are not old!" I wanted to shout all of this out to her. Yes, it's true that I've put on a few pounds that my usual daily walking and yoga routine is doing nothing to combat. Yes, I recently threw my back out while painting the chicken coop. Every day I notice a new section of my hair going white. I don't mind that really. What I do mind is this idea that cholesterol checks and mammograms are things that we must do because we have gotten older. I do mind the implication that my age has everything to do with my inability to lose a few pounds. I also mind the idea that going to the doctor for a check up is something you do because you are getting older. We take babies to the doctor all the time for check ups. Those old geezer babies with their constant need for doctor visits!  But it's true. I am physically of a certain age. This means I just need to be more mindful to eat more greens and move my body more so that my joints don't settle into one spot. It means that I need to be aware of my cholesterol levels and my glucose levels because, as my doctor said, I cannot change my genetics. Heart disease and diabetes are a thing in my family. She also said that she was sure my HDL levels will be proof of my healthiness. 

Mentally I'm twelve because I still think farts are funny.