Raindrops on Roses

How easy it is to become shackled to your work, allowing days and weeks to fly by with the blink of an eye.  The details of daily life take a back seat—laundry, correspondence, bills, cooking.  As one who works from home, there is a greater risk of getting lost in it all; minutes at the computer turn to hours, then days.  It is not only a convenience to work in pajamas and slippers, it is also a curse.  The human spirit is not intended to be cooped up and sedentary.  Thus, I admonish myself daily, forcing an hourly stretch, a daily walk, and at least two or three major projects per week. 

I do this for a reason.  I spent many years in a high-paced career during which I neglected myself and, regretfully, my family.   I allowed the demands of the cut-throat environment to consume me.  Although it was rewarding, I look back and wonder whether it justified the things that I sacrificed.  I can still hear my young son’s voice one time when I came home from a long trip.  He threw himself at me yelling, “Mom!  You’re home.”  A little boy should never be surprised to see his mother come home.  A mother should be with her daughter when she takes her first steps.  This is a lesson that I learned the hard way;  I have been trying to soak up life with my family ever since.

Today during my self-imposed down time, my regrets turned to thoughts of how my now age-addled body is slowing down while the pace of life seems to be picking up speed.  I have noticed that I do not recognize the latest young movie stars, I do not care to own the latest version of technology, and I abhor reality TV.  Is this the definition of old?  Is it telling that I get weekly mailings from AARP, that I am older than the President, and that waitresses in restaurants call me “ma’am” instead of “miss”?  I am reminded of the final words that my daughter said to me before I left her at college to begin her freshman year.  “Mom,” she said, “just don’t get old.” 

Whoever said “you’re as old as you feel” did not have osteoarthritis.   On the other hand, with the exception of not remembering what my husband said fifteen minutes ago, I truly believe I am still a viable life form.  I continue to be interested in taking on new adventures and challenging myself both intellectually and musically (although not so much physically anymore).  But just in case I have a lapse, I made a list of the things I most like to do.  If any of you find me wondering around on a golf course or in a rock-climbing gym, I have clearly lost my way.  Please direct me to one of the following:

• A great performance by the Boston Symphony 
• Chicago Art Institute or MoMA
• Dinner and a Broadway show in New York
• Antiquing and gallery hopping
• Renovating my house
• Playing chamber music
•  Cooking holiday dinner for family and friends
• Watching Family Guy and South Park with my kids
• Traveling to foreign lands
•  Sunday brunch at Simon Pearce in Quechee, VT

What's on your list?  It is never too late to fill your life with the things you love.

Tomorrow's blog:  Guilty Pleasure