Blowin' In The Wind

Another birthday will arrive next month. I’m amazed at how quickly the years have passed. It seems I was just a child the other day and then a teenager, trying to figure out who I was. Then came the college years, finding love and trying to figure out who I was. Then parenthood and the “adult work world” and trying to figure out who I was.

Now my children are grown, that work world surprisingly changed after almost two decades. I’ve been granted many experiences I wouldn’t ever had chosen. I’ve felt sadness I never thought was possible and joy that cannot be described honorably. I’ve moved on with my life at points when there seemed no direction, no way out. I’ve learned things I never knew mattered and they’ve changed my life in huge ways, making me realize just how small a particle I am in this big dust ball called life.

It’s been amazing to grow up during this period of technological advances. I’m old enough to say I grew up with a black and white television, with just a few channels and a radio in the house. Yet, now I contemplate writing this blog on a computer that could reach an endless amount of readers; people I don’t even know. A cell phone sits near me. Communication is everywhere. It’s a struggle to escape it and find solitude when needed.

So, why write a blog? Why not? Do all questions need to be answered? I don’t think so. Not anymore. It seems as though the biggest lesson I am being taught is: be here now, in this moment. Nothing else really matters. You can’t change what’s already happened and you can’t control what’s going to happen – no matter how strongly you think you can. Trust me, I’ve put that one to the test since I was a child and been proven wrong a zillion times. Even if you think you controlled the outcome of something, you are in for a surprise later when life teaches you that you were just a small part of that picture.

So, here I am - now. I’m going to write a blog because it feels “right.” I’m experiencing so much every day that seems to open doors and turn-on lights, that I’m compelled to write about it. Maybe others will enjoy reading about my experiences. Maybe not. I’m not concerned with that because I’m not going to do this to feed my ego. I feel a sensory over-load lately and I think this might be a good way to let some stuff escape. Join me if you wish. I think it’s going to be a fun ride.

 So, where to begin….I am the youngest of five children and the only girl. My parents were old when they had me – elderly (I thought as a child)! My mother was 43 and my father was 51. My oldest brother is seventeen years older than me and even the youngest oldest brother is eight years older. In a way, I was an only child. I had older brothers blaring Led Zeppelin from the funny smoke-filled basement get-away and a mother born during the depression who loved the “big band era.” I got to see a lot of extremes.

I feel like they started when I was eight and my father was diagnosed with cancer. Within a year he was gone. That’s when the extreme experiences began. It’s been a hell of a ride since then and like I said, it’s gone by like a plastic bag on a windy day – whoosh! Blowin' in the wind...