Aging Gracefully

In Which I Am Not Mindful While Shopping In The Grocery Store

/ Ally Bean / 20 Comments

I found myself with an hour of free time late in the afternoon.  As I was already out & about I decided to run into Kroger to pick up a few things.  Because I wasn’t planning on going there, I didn’t have my shopping list with me.

I knew that I needed 6 items to make what I had in mind for dinner, so I decided to assign each ingredient to a finger/thumb.  The result of this impromptu shopping list was that I looked like a child counting on my fingers as I shopped.  Goofy as it was, my finger list did work.  BUT it also meant that I started pushing my cart, a large one, with one hand.

And if there is anything that you must remember about me, it is that I am not too coordinated.  Clumsy, even.

Thus, it will come as no surprise when I tell you that while counting on one hand and pushing the cart with my other hand I managed to block a produce aisle with my catty-wampus, slightly out-of-control cart.

I knew immediately that I was in the way.  Pretty much because I heard the metal clank of my cart bumping another cart head-on.  It’s a sound one recognizes even while staring at one’s fingers and thumb.

I looked up ready to offer an apology when I  realized that the woman who I’d inconvenienced was Lilias Folan.  As in someone famous.  As in someone with a nationally syndicated PBS TV show.  As in the woman who is sometimes credited with introducing yoga to the USA.

Yep, that’s who I bashed into in the grocery produce department.  Good job, Ms. Bean.

But here’s the thing, Lilias was just standing there with a kind smile on her face waiting for the crazy lady [moi] to get out of her way.  She had no where to back up to, so her choice was to be patient OR to get angry.  And because she was living her life off the mat as she did on the mat, she chose the former.

Of course, me being me, after I said that I was sorry I tried to explain myself by babbling about fingers and no shopping list and dinner– et cetera, et cetera.  And my dithery explanation, I’m happy to report, got Lilias laughing.

This made me feel better about my screw-up and got me thinking that it’s time for me to get back into yoga because I want to be that older woman with perfect posture, a calm aura & the ability to laugh when things go wrong.

And who better to emulate than Lilias?  The bumpee in my brush bump with greatness.

Doctor, Doctor, Give Me The News

/ Ally Bean / 16 Comments

In one week I went to the eye doctor and the lady bits doctor.  They are not on the same page as to what I need to do, henceforth, to stay a healthy and whole woman.  In fact, putting together their advice I am left with a math word problem.

I never liked math word problems when I was twelve– and I do not like them any better now that I am many decades beyond twelve.  Here is what I have to figure out:

<begin snarl>

Ally wants to be a healthy person.  She is on a train called YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME heading toward the town known as OLD AGE.

According to the eye doctor, who wants the redness and dryness in her eyes to abate, Ally is to take 2 antibiotics each day.  These are to be taken on an empty stomach 1 hour before eating OR 2-3 hours after eating.  They are never to be taken before eating anything with calcium in it.

According to her lady bits doctor, who wants all women to have strong bones, Ally is supposed to eat 3 servings of calcium-rich food each day.  These foods include all sorts of low-fat, no-fat dairy products + soybeans + raw spinach.  Also, she is to take 1 calcium supplement each day.

So, how does Ally get to the junction of SEEING CLEARLY and NO BROKEN BONES while riding along on the YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME train without making a major stop at I NEED TO GET MY HEAD EXAMINED?  Or before becoming derailed in the ‘burg known as YEAST INFECTION?  Or before being stopped by the outlaw gang known as RAW SPINACH MAKES MY FACE TURN RED?

Hmm?  How does Ally do this?

<end snarl>

And with that question in mind, I shall wander off to solve this ridiculous word problem with a pad of paper + pen, a mug of coffee & a less than enthusiastic attitude.  If figuring out word problems such as this is what old age is going to be all about, I’m having a few doubts about my ability to age gracefully.  Or to even care about good health.  ‘Ya know what I mean?

This is craziness.

The Poinsettia On The Kitchen Table

/ Ally Bean / 22 Comments

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::  Some of you who’ve been reading this blog for a while know that this poinsettia came into our home the weekend after Thanksgiving Day 2011.  It has lived, bloomed, grown while sitting on our kitchen table ever since.

This is unprecedented for me.  Never once has a poinsettia, entrusted to my care, lived more than a couple of months after it came into our house.

Yet this wonderful plant has shown me that with the right amount of indifference and the right amount of sunlight, a poinsettia can thrive, at least for a year or so, in our home.

Truly this is a case of… who knew?

::  I was staring at this plant the other morning as I sat at the kitchen table and drank a mug of coffee.  Bay windows surround the table on one side so I had the choice of looking outside into the grayness or looking inside at this colorful, drooping poinsettia.

I went with the colorful alternative.  I mean… who wouldn’t?

::  According to a fast bit of research on the topic, a poinsettia can live for years inside someone’s home.  I like knowing this, but doubt that this will be the case with our poinsettia on the kitchen table.  It is beginning to look frazzled and worn out.

I’m not going to do anything in particular to encourage it to keep on growing, but at the same time I’m not going to withhold water and sunlight from it.  I’m just going to let it go through its process of aging gracefully.

This plant’s sense of purpose has charmed me.  All plants are like this, of course;  but seeing the process unfold in slow motion in front of me each day for well over a year, reminds me that we need to define ourselves as we see fit.

Do your own thing, says our poinsettia on the kitchen table.  And all that I think is… why not?