Paula
I was in Chicago last weekend and my soon-to-be-daughter-in-law pointed to a woman who was wearing the most beautiful, green, dyed fox jacket and we both envied it (we were actually green with envy…ha). It was gorgeous. So, I immediately went online only to find that anything like that was in the thousands of dollars. And, honestly, I would feel guilty making a fox die for me to dye him green. So, I kept shopping online until I found this! I asked my daughter to put it on for the photo below because she is so much cuter in it than I am! I started wearing it yesterday as the temperature dropped and the compliments have not stopped. I bought my faux fur jacket on Asos and the cost… about $75! Looks way more expensive, right?
Not only do I love it, but, it is me (and, now my daughter). It is something I will wear over and over, while I have friends who wouldn’t be caught dead in a green furry jacket. That’s OK… it is my style. As soon as it arrived I fell in love. I know that it will look as good with my QVC jeans and one of my pairs of booties from Target, as it will with black leggings and a pair of Stuart Weitzman over-the-knee boots. That’s me. I am an equal opportunity shopper. I don’t judge by the color of the price tag!
The Moral of the Story
Yes, the moral of the story is to figure out your own style and look for pieces that fit that style, no matter what the price. Think about the clothes that make you feel most comfortable when you walk into a room. The pieces in which you feel confident. Because feeling confident is really what style is all about. When you feel like you look your best when walking into a room, you have found your style. Whether you find pieces at T.J. Maxx or Barney’s, make sure they fit your style profile and, you can get good wear from them, and you can’t go wrong.
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I have always felt like having a side job, or a talent that can earn you a little extra income here or there is a great thing. I have a son who played lacrosse in high school and college and he sometimes coaches. It’s a few hours on some weekends, he enjoys it and gets a little extra money in his pocket. And, that extra money, while not a fortune, makes a difference. It might buy a piece of furniture for his condo at the end of the year or a flight somewhere, but it counts.
My other son has a roommate who has a small Etsy shop and hand-makes collages. She has a regular job, and this is a little something on the side. It covers some groceries, movies, etc. And, she enjoys it: it is her creative outlet.
In my head I visualize my work-life in 3 categories: income, ideas and dreams.
Three Income Categories
The first is income. Not a lot to say about that. We all need it and we all work to get it. Some of us love what we do for a living and some of us just don’t. It may be your passion…it may not. And I include in the income category moms at home and other caregivers. The jobs they do may not earn actual dollars, but their hard work contributes to the household management, so I count them.
Ideas are the coaching and the collage making activities. I used to sell antiques with a friend twice a year at a local flea market. It was fun, we got to work together on the project and we walked away with a little bit of extra money. It felt like free money, which it was not, but it felt that way. I loved it. It was more fun than my regular job: it was harder work but I loved it.
Finally, the dream category. I shouldn’t really call it a dream. A dream is something that is 100% in your head. It has no basis in reality. But if you are actually working on your dream, however infrequent, it’s more. I have two items in my life that are dreams, but if either of them were to come true…well, my life would become a dream, that’s for sure. One is a project that I am working on with my son and daughter. How great would it be to have that come true and get to work with them sometimes? The other is with a long distance friend. We may only get one step ahead by the end of the year, but I am sticking with it.
What the dream project does for me is that it allows me to do just that, dream. Kind of like buying a lottery ticket. What if…what if I got to spend more time with my children and help them financially, as well. Or, what if my friend and I really get this going? What would life look like then?
It helps me to write it down in a chart:
- Income (my “regular” job)
- Idea (my one side interest that might get me a little added income)
- Dream (the big burrito in the sky, but one that is in the works)
As I get older, the categories have shifted a bit. The truth is that the dream is taking a much more prominent place in my brain. Maybe because I just don’t have as many years ahead to make it come true. Or maybe because it is more exciting and more important to me than it used to be. And, if I am honest with myself, the idea portion of my life has turned more into hobbies. It is more important to me now to make time to knit or play the guitar or read than it used to be.
One more thing about the ideas and the dreams…there is no shame in them not coming to fruition. There is only shame in not having them at all.
Read MoreI picked up a little book when I was traveling with my daughter and set it next to my bed when I returned home. It is called Design Your Day by Claire Diaz-Ortiz. It is maybe 100 pages. I didn’t pick it up for weeks and honestly I only moved it to dust, which means I didn’t move it at all. So a couple of nights ago I read a little of the book and I got to a point and stopped: it really had me thinking. Don’t you love books like that? Books that, with a few paragraphs, make a huge impression on you.
In the book , Diaz-Ortiz talks about picking one word of the year. The year might not be a year: it might be a season or a time period, like before my son’s wedding, or this fall, or before the holidays. But, I like the concept of the word. So I started thinking about what my word should be. I had a few in mind, but it took some time to zero in on just the right one.
My first thought was…freedom. That’s what I am trying to accomplish in my personal life certainly…attaining freedom. But, it wasn’t quite right. Then, when talking to a friend, a young man, someone I wouldn’t expect to get it, he said, “Good, but every time you think of the word freedom it will remind you of a time that you didn’t feel that freedom.” Wow, that was deep. So freedom was out.
My next thought was the word success. But that felt too final. Like something you’ve achieved, not something you work on every day. While I like finding small successes in my daily life, success comes at the end, not the during the journey. And, if I have achieved success, then what? Not quite right either.
So, here it is, here is my word for now (drum roll please)…forward. My word for the next, I don’t know, 6 months to a year is forward. That is what I am about and that is where I want to go and that is who I want to become, someone who is always moving forward. To me it means that what I think, say or do should be helping me to achieve forward motion. And, if I feel like I am off track or if I feel like I am moving in the other direction, I can shift my focus and get going again.
That is as far as I read in the book. I wanted to wait to continue until I had my word, so now I can read on. This is not a book recommendation since that’s as far as I read, but just that piece itself has helped me get some perspective on my direction and I plan to read further.
What’s your word? If you are not moving in the right direction for you, maybe you need a new word, one that reflects who you are or who you want to be. Once you have it, you may be more clear about your life and your goals and can plan how to get there.
Read MoreI am an only child, so I have always been used to being alone. And, I love being alone. In my single years, I rented apartments that I could afford on my own, I didn’t have roommates. I was super social and always out so when I came home it was all mine. I was never lonely. I loved reading and watching TV and knitting and was totally happy alone in my apartment. Then I got married.
It took a while for me to get used to living with another person, although he was my husband. And, he was a mess. I am not a neat freak but this was a whole new level. But, when we bought our first house our new normal set in and I got used to living with another person. We had enough room to get away from each other when we needed to and life settled in. Then came baby number one, and baby number two and baby number three. I didn’t have time to be alone or lonely. I just kept moving forward.
However, as the kids starting to grow and go to school and participate in after-school activities I noticed that I didn’t just have time alone, which I loved, I was lonely. I had plenty to do and I worked outside the home off and on during that time but I was so lonely. I tried to explain it to my husband but failed to make a connection there. He really didn’t care how I was feeling as long as it didn’t interfere with his life and livelihood. Over the next couple of decades, I felt lonely most of the time in my marriage. I loved the kids and our family and friends, but I was lonely. My husband knew it.
The Kids Grew Up
When the kids went off to college, I filled my days and evenings and weekends with lots of activities and work, but I was still lonely, and it wasn’t my imagination and it wasn’t the blues or hormonal changes, it was real loneliness. The writing was on the wall but I ignored it in order to keep the family together for as long a possible. I was the only one in the marriage.
I moved out and was living alone again for the first time in 30 years. I vacillated between the highest highs and the lowest lows on a daily basis. Now I wasn’t just lonely, I was alone, too. And there were plenty of nights when I thought being in a bad marriage was better than being in no marriage at all. I was wrong. It took me a year to get to this point, but I am no longer lonely, I’m just alone and I love it.
I am back to reading and knitting and watching TV when I am not out with friends, and I am out with friends a lot. I have to work at it. I am often the one making plans and inviting friends to join me and sometimes they can. If not, I go alone. I’m a big girl, I can do that.
Time Alone
There are still times when I am feeling lonely, mostly when I have a weekend with nothing to do. I feel like everyone goes home to their loved ones and I just go home. And, I know that I haven’t seen the last of the loneliness monster. But, I find that I enjoy my time alone again. I feel a little bit like I used to when I was young: my place is my own little sanctuary.
Here is what I know…
- I know the difference between loneliness and being alone. They are very different and they feel very different. One brings sadness and the other feels more like contentment.
- Being alone is a temporary condition of geography: I’m just somewhere where there aren’t any other people at the moment. Being lonely is internal and isn’t a function of locale.
- Both are beneficial. I know I’m not happy when I am lonely and I have to find a way to change my circumstances. When I am alone, I have time to reflect, time to plan and time to grow. It is when I dream, make lists and plan travel. I am happy when I’m alone.
- If it is painful, it’s loneliness…if it’s just quiet, it’s alone time.
- I can go to the movie when I am alone and eat as much popcorn and M&Ms as I want and laugh as loud as I want. If I am lonely…well…who am I kidding, popcorn and M&Ms make that better, too.
I have done everything I can to embrace this new life of mine, starting over at sixty. I try to be in forward motion as much as I can. Husband won’t leave the house…move. Don’t have a lot of single friends…make some new friends. Nothing to do this weekend…go visit a friend. That’s just how I have propelled myself forward, trying to will myself into happiness and hoping for no setbacks, no bumps in the road.
But, no matter how much I try to move forward with blinders on, not letting anything deter me from being happy again, those demons can still creep up and bring me to my knees.
That happened a couple of weeks ago. I just hit the wall. I couldn’t pretend my life is great one more minute. I felt like everyone around me was living life and having a blast, but me. I wanted my family back, I wanted my house back, I wanted my life back. I wanted to be thinking about a great trip for us all to take for the holidays: not to think about whether or not I would be traveling alone. Or think about how the kids would be joining me later after they see their father. I didn’t want to be thinking about how we’ll all be split up over Thanksgiving. Hate it hate it hate it. And, with fall around the corner, the dread just came over me.
And then…it passed. I cried for about two days, and then it passed. It didn’t resolve itself, it just passed through me. I started to feel like maybe the worst is over. It doesn’t get better and it doesn’t go away. It just passes through me and washes over me then drifts out the window. And when it comes back, it isn’t as bad anymore, isn’t as intense. I can handle it. Progress has been made. Not forever, but for now and for today.
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