religion

Conversation With…Mother of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer…about empty nester worrying

/ overthehillontheyellowbrickroad / 54 Comments

Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I came to a huge building known as “The Worriers’ Warehouse.” In my older age, I worry more than ever. So I went inside and immediately noticed an older reindeer nervously biting her hooves. It was easy to start a conversation:

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Hey Reindeer, what are you worried about?

RUDOLPH’S MOM: My son Rudolph.

Wait. Are you telling me you’re Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer’s mother?

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Yes. And I’m constantly refilling my Valium prescription.

Why? What could you possibly be worried about? He’s Santa’s personal assistant! You raised this heroic, caring reindeer who pulls a sleigh filled with presents to children all over the world.

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Christmas Eve makes me crazy for the entire year. It takes me 364 days to recover from it.

Why?

RUDOLPH’S MOM: How would you like it if your son flew across the sky all night lugging a five billion ton sleigh filled with gifts? What’s holding him up there anyway?

Magic?

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Not the most reassuring concept for a mother. What if he makes a crash landing?

I never thought of that—

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Or if he doesn’t crash, what about his physical health? He’s dragging a sleigh full of gifts for kids all over the world with just a few other reindeer. He could pull his back out.

I see your point.

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Not to mention, my Rudolph could pass out from exhaustion! Thirst! Hunger! It’s a busy night! No breaks! Very high pressure! And I know him! He’ll never say no!

Another point well taken.

RUDOLPH’S MOM: And what if Rudolph has to fly through a blizzard? Or a tornado? Or a severe thunderstorm? Who knows how high those reindeer go? My son could be hit by a meteor! Or slam into the moon! He could—

All this makes complete sense, but you’re not alone. I worry about all kinds of things with my adult kids, too.

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Like what?

Bad relationships, lack of relationships, driving at night, driving too fast, driving when the sun is rising and blocking vision, driving when the sun is setting and blocking vision, traveling in planes, buses, trains, taxis, living on pizza, needing help when there’s no one around–

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Okay, okay. We’re on the same worrying page.

But with all that, I also think we’re giving our kids one big, giant, great gift.

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Oh good. Because I never know what to get Rudolph for Christmas. What’s the gift?

The gift of freedom. That way, our adult children can DO all the things we worry about. They have a chance to figure out where they belong in the world. When we don’t call or text them every five seconds or stalk them on Facebook, we’re letting them go. It’s a gift. Even though it kills us inside.

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Well in that case…why can’t we just say to ourselves we raised mature, intelligent beings who can take care of themselves and make good choices? What if I stopped worrying about my millennial reindeer so much?

What if I stopped worrying about my adult kids so much?

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Would something be missing from our relationships with our children?

Yes. Our connection.

RUDOLPH’S MOM: Are you sure about that?

No. But I worry about it.

Copyrightoverthehillontheyellowbrickroad2018

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How do you control the amount you worry about those you care about? (This includes pets.)

Conversation With…An Older Imagination…Dealing with what’s imaginary as we age.

/ overthehillontheyellowbrickroad / 79 Comments

Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I came to a glob of mist with eyeballs. When I asked who it was, it answered, “I’m an imagination. An older one.” I absolutely had to start a conversation.

imagination

Hey Older Imagination, I’m glad I met you because I’ve always had trouble balancing the good and bad sides of my imagination. As I grow older, I find it’s even harder. Maybe you can help me.

IMAGINATION: I doubt it. Though I’m older, I still have very little self-control. But I do see the good side of your imagination. I mean, right now you have a ton of imaginary friends.

What? What are you talking about?

IMAGINATION: Everyone who lives here, “Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road,” is imaginary. They come from inside your head.

I never thought of it that way. I guess they blossomed from my imagination, and then took on lives of their own.

IMAGINATION: Is that when the bad side of your imagination comes out?

Nope. It’s still the good side. Because talking with everyone here has led to conversations about being an empty nester, feeling fragile as I grow older, not knowing what to wear as I age, and all that stuff. Talking about those things helps me get through this phase of life.

IMAGINATION: And what happens next? The dark side of your imagination creeps in?

No. The conversations about growing older actually led to my book “Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road.” I’m really proud of it.

IMAGINATION: Phew! So I guess there really is no bad side of your imagination!

Yes there is. As I get older, if I feel a particular pain I don’t recognize or I feel anxious about my age, my imagination makes it much worse. It exaggerates the bad feelings. Makes them run wild.   

IMAGINATION: Guilty as charged. But knowing my limits after all these years…might there be another way to relieve your pain and anxiety as you grow older?

Well…I can pray more. Like, I pray my children, who are not always near me anymore, will be safe and well. It helps…unless, of course, God is really just another form of an imaginary friend.

IMAGINATION: I see the way the good and bad sides of your imagination work together.

Drives me nuts.

IMAGINATION: I’ve gotta stop talking now. If I don’t, I’ll start coming up with really weird ideas and we’ll both freak out. This conversation is becoming overwhelming for me.

Me too. It’s giving me a stomach ache. Or… am I imagining it?

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Copyrightoverthehillontheyellowbrickroad2018

How do you stop your imagination from making life crazier in older age?

CONVERSATION WITH…Swiss Cheese…A Spiritual Leader in Older Age

/ overthehillontheyellowbrickroad / 62 Comments

Traveling Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I arrived at a place where all residents gathered for an uplifting, spiritual experience. The building didn’t resemble a church, synagogue, mosque or any other house of prayer. It was just a giant hunk of Swiss cheese. A slender, aging, slightly moldy slice of Swiss cheese approached. I said:

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I might be wrong, but, are you the spiritual leader here?

SWISS CHEESE: I am. How can I be of assistance?

Well, I’m here, Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, trying to figure out where I belong in the world as I grow older. I’m searching for my spark.

SWISS CHEESE: Welcome, my friend. I hope you will find it here.

Thank you, but how might that be possible? You’re a piece of Swiss cheese.

SWISS CHEESE: My dear, as I age, it is not my physical form or what I look like that matters. It is what I stand for that counts. That is all.

I’m not sure I’m understanding you.

SWISS CHEESE:  Let me explain. As a spiritual leader in this land, I encompass all religions, races, ages, ethnic backgrounds, cultures and traditions. My holes remind us all of the holes we’ve had in our lives that we have yet to fill.

Ah. Okay. I think I’m beginning to see where you’re coming from. You mean, your holes represent regrets from our pasts. Relationships we’d like to change. Adventures we’d still like to have. Parts of our emotional selves we’d like to nurture so we can continue to grow.

SWISS CHEESE: That is right. Sometimes in our busy lives, we don’t take the time to think of these things. My Swiss Cheese House of Spirituality gives us a moment to stop, breathe, look back on where we’ve been, determine what’s missing, and look forward to what might be ahead.

I appreciate what you’re saying. My only problem is I don’t live Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road permanently. There isn’t a Swiss Cheese House of Spirituality in my neighborhood. How can I translate what you’re saying to my everyday life?

SWISS CHEESE: Others have asked the same question. Here is my answer. Each time you order a sandwich in a Deli, you’ll be reminded of me. Remember what I stand for.

You know, for a slice of Swiss cheese, you’re exceptionally wise.

SWISS CHEESE: Many have told me that. You know, I would love to spend more time exchanging thoughts, but it is time for our weekly service. I hope you will join us.

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With that, the slice of Swiss cheese entered the Swiss Cheese House of Spirituality. Many others I’d met Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road followed. Entering the giant hunk of Swiss cheese, I noticed an older tree, a shower cap, a sponge, the Wicked Witch of the West Coast, a dandelion, a vampire, a bird, the Old Woman Who Lives in a Shoe, a wrinkled water bottle…and so many others. It didn’t matter where they all came from. It only mattered where they hoped to go.

Copyrightoverthehillontheyellowbrickroad2018

Is there a hole you’d still like to fill in your life?