television

Conversation With…An Older, Wiser Question Mark…about losing momentum while growing older.

/ overthehillontheyellowbrickroad / 103 Comments

Though I’m still traveling Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick road, I haven’t written much lately because I’ve been thinking. Up to this point, I’ve mustered up positive energy while growing older…but suddenly and unexpectedly, it has come to a halt. What can I do? I was told I’d have a life changing experience if I spoke to the Older, Wiser Question Mark. I found it sitting by itself in the middle of nowhere and I started a conversation…

question mark

Hey Question Mark, I’ve got a question. Why have I suddenly lost momentum? Why are the freeing feelings I’ve had during this phase of life no longer there?

OLD QUESTION MARK: I don’t know.

Okay. Maybe I should be asking this a little differently. Is it possible that I’ve reached a certain satisfying point during the aging process and I’ve expressed everything I have to say about it? Now I need to talk about a different aspect of it? Do I need a new perspective and a different way to creatively express my feelings?

OLD QUESTION MARK:  I don’t know.

This feels like a bad therapy session. Listen to me! How can I pull myself out of this rut and find a new direction?

OLD QUESTION MARK: I wish I knew.

Okay. I get it. You’re a question mark. You’re never going to give me a straight answer. Right?

OLD QUESTION MARK: What do you think?

What do I think?  I think I’m at the end of my rope! I’m totally and completely frustrated! I need help!  How do I channel my older energy when it’s suddenly just sitting there?????   I mean, here’s something I’ve learned in the past year. I see my  older body can still heal itself at this moment, so I can push it a little harder to keep it healthy.  But NOW, how do I go about it? Do I take private yoga classes for overly sensitive, paranoid Baby Boomers? Do I  work with a trainer and lift one pound weights for six years until I’m brave enough to lift two pound weights?

OLD QUESTION MARK: I wish I could tell you.

I wish you could tell me, too! Because here’s another thing I’ve learned in the past year that’s making me feel stuck.  Sometimes I have random aches and pains for no reason.  Okay, fine.  I finally accept that. But NOW I  need to know how to keep my head when my body does weird stuff. How do I remind myself it’s the way my body works at this point in life and those feelings will come and go?

OLD QUESTION MARK: I–

Don’t say it!  And another thing! How do I move forward creatively when I’ve already said what I have to say about older age? Shall I call old colleagues and network? Do I reach out to companies with my ideas and test the water? You know? Just ask questions about what they’re looking for and see if my ideas are in sync with theirs?

OLD QUESTION MARK: If I respond, you’ll just get mad.

Hey listen…you might be shocked, but I’m actually getting something out of this conversation. I’m feeling inner strength emerging. I’m starting to realize it’s not what everyone else thinks at this time in life, it’s more about what I think and being very specific about what’s right for ME. And if I don’t have the answers right now, asking questions is a good way to start the process. I think that’s what I’m supposed to be getting out of this conversation. Am I right?

OLD QUESTION MARK: What do you think?

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What do  YOU think?

 

 

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.

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

CONVERSATION WITH…An aging staircase…refusing to conform to conservative styles

/ overthehillontheyellowbrickroad / 96 Comments

Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I came to a creaky, Victorian staircase that was painted with a pink ombre. It was the coolest thing I’d ever seen. I thought to myself, “Am I too old to have that kind of designing fun in my house at this stage of life?” I had to check into it, so I started a conversation with the staircase. I said:

pink steps

OMG staircase! You look amazing!

STAIRCASE: Thanks. The floral carpet that covered me for decades was fine. But at this point in my life I’m not feelin’ it anymore. So I took a break from tradition. Just because I creak doesn’t mean I have to look old.

So how did you come up with this new look?

STAIRCASE: The idea caught my attention off a blog at:  https://littleblackdomicile.com/  And the photo was taken by Arsenic and Lace.

I just love it!

STAIRCASE: Then go for it in your own house.

I would love to! The staircase in my house is exactly like yours. But here’s the problem. I’ve lived in my house for 27 years and never want to leave. But my kids have grown up, and if I try to sell it sometime, who will want to buy a house with a pink ombre staircase?

STAIRCASE: Well, YOU like it.

I know. But shouldn’t I be thinking about home designs that are more conservative or generic? Styles almost anyone would like?

STAIRCASE: ZZzzzz. ZZZZzzzzzzzzz  ZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Excuse me. Wake up.

STAIRCASE: Oops. Sorry. Your last comment was so boring it put me to sleep. I mean, how can you possibly consider decorating your house for a random person who might or might not buy it? The thought of that is so depressing.

Don’t you watch House Hunters?

STAIRCASE: No. I’m a staircase.

Well, it’s a television show where customers walk through houses they’d potentially want to buy, and choose one. The customers hardly ever like funky paint colors. And forget about wallpaper.

STAIRCASE: What’s wrong with wallpaper?

It’s never in sync with a customer’s taste. Personally, I’d love to try a wallpaper design like this:

wallpaper

See the background? My friend Claudia created it at: https://claudiamcgillart.wordpress.com

STAIRCASE: I looove it!

Me too. But a home buyer might not go for it.

STAIRCASE: Here’s the bottom line. I can only share my perspective.  If you design your home to please other people, you’re being incredibly unfair to staircases, walls, kitchen counters…and most importantly…yourself.

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Should I do it? Should I go for the pink staircase?

Conversation With…Fading Tinker Bell…About believing in older fairies

/ overthehillontheyellowbrickroad / 84 Comments

Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I noticed a fading, flickering light in the distance. As a fan of fairy tales, I knew who it was right away. Tinker Bell! From the story of Peter Pan! I remembered her light faded the same way during her story, when Captain Hook poisoned Peter Pan’s medicine and Tinker Bell drank it to save Peter’s life.  After that, children everywhere clapped their hands to voice their belief in fairies…and Tinker Bell came alive So, why was she fading again? I rushed over and cried, “Excuse me, Tinker Bell. I’m not the paparazzi. I’m a loyal fan. Why are you flickering?  What’s wrong?!” She answered in a weak, faint voice:

Tinker Bell

TINKER BELL: I flew Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road to rekindle my spirit, but it isn’t working. I’m dying.

You can’t die! How did this happen? Did you drink Peter’s poisoned medicine again?

TINKER BELL: No. The situation is quite different this time. You see, after all these years, Peter has stayed young as he was meant to. But I have aged. I’m ever so much more than 110.

But you’re a fairy! Maybe you can live longer! Why is your spirit dying?

TINKER BELL: Because I’m not useful to Peter anymore. Do you remember our story? We appear outside children’s bedroom windows at bedtime and fly them to Neverland.

Of course I remember your story! I was always waiting for you!

TINKER BELL: Well, my eyesight isn’t what it used to be. I can’t fly in the dark as well anymore.

So? You’re not alone. I can’t drive at night as well as I used to.

TNKER BELL: I appreciate your kind words. But that isn’t the only problem. You see, I always carry fairy dust to help children fly. But these days, I can no longer carry it. The weight of all that fairy dust throws my back out.

I have back issues too. But that’s no reason to give up on everything in older age. Can’t you try to adjust? That’s what everyone else does.

TINKER BELL: How?

Well, as long as we’re on the subject, I’ll blurt out something that has bothered  me about the story of Peter Pan for decades. It might help.

TINKER BELL: Go ahead. I fear I’m almost dead anyway.

Stop saying that!  Listen to me! Every time I read the story of Peter Pan, I feel it’s unfair that only children get to fly to Neverland. What about adults, like me, who will always be young at heart?  Why can’t we go too?

TINKER BELL: That is an excellent question. I’d like to fly you to Neverland myself, but as I told, you, I don’t see as well at night anymore. I muddle through it with Peter, but I don’t think I can add extra excursions.

You’re missing the point. I can’t see as well at night either, so I’d be happier flying to Neverland during the day! I bet others who are young at heart would say the same thing.

TINKER BELL: Hmmm…perhaps I could manage that. But what about the fairy dust? I can’t carry it.

I’ve got that figured out too. When you decide which bedroom window you’d like to visit, go ahead and order fairy dust from amazon.com a few days in advance. Use their two-day delivery service with free shipping.

TINKER BELL: Hmmm….Tempting thought.

Yes! And that way, the fairy dust will be waiting for you on any  bedroom windowsill as soon as you arrive there.

TINKER BELL: You know, I think this could work.

Yaaay!

TINKER BELL: But there’s one other thing I’ll need before I begin taking others on daytime trips to Neverland.

What’s that?

TINKER BELL: Heartfelt support to keep me alive.

What do you mean?

TINKER BELL: I’ll explain. As you recall, in my story, when I drank Peter’s poisoned medicine and almost died, Peter asked children everywhere to clap their hands to prove they believed in fairies.

I remember I clapped so loudly, my hands almost fell off.

TINKER BELL: That was you? Oh thank you. Anyway, now I must ask all those who will always be young at heart to clap for me again, and chant: “I believe in older fairies. I believe in older fairies.”

I’m in. And…everyone reading this post who feels the way I do, please, please clap your hands and chant along with me: “I believe in older fairies! I believe in older fairies! I believe in older fairies! I believe in older fairies!!!!!”

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I’d like to extend a huge, heartfelt thank you to all those who clapped and chanted. We brought Tinker Bell back to life. From this day forward, please listen for a light tapping on your bedroom window. Yes, it might be a woodpecker. But you never know. It might also be Tinker Bell, waiting to fly you to Neverland.

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Conversation with…A Lilac…about being young and old at the same time

/ overthehillontheyellowbrickroad / 78 Comments

Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, in early May, I saw a lilac growing beside a tree. Lilacs are my favorite flower ever! I cherish the time they’re here! So I rushed over to it. But I noticed the lilac looked confused and distraught. I asked:

lilac

Hey lilac, what’s the matter?

LILAC: I can’t tell you.

Oh. Okay.

LILAC: It’s too upsetting.

Alright. I won’t ask.

LILAC: It has to do with my age.

Believe it or not, I’ll understand. What’s bothering you?

LILAC: I can’t tell you.

But you just started to.

LILAC: Forget I said it.

Okay. Fine.

LILAC: The tree next to me just told me I’ll only be in the world for about two weeks. But I just got here. I’m young and getting old at the same time. I’m a freak.

Well, for what it’s worth, I’m young and getting old at the same time, too.

LILAC: Really? I think you just look older.

Oh thank you.

LILAC: I didn’t mean to insult you. I was just being honest.

What I was trying to say was, I’m older on the outside but young on the inside. Young at heart.

LILAC: Well then, you must be confused too.

Baffled. 

LILAC: How do you deal with it? How do you stop yourself from obsessing with being older and young at the same time?

Well…I think every living creature is born with a gift. You know, some kind of outstanding talent that makes the world a better place. So, no matter how old I get, I focus on my gift and try to find new ways to use it.

LILAC: What’s your gift?

I believe it’s writing. The way I communicate. And I hope somehow, in my writing, just for a moment, I transform others. I hope I can suggest that others see the world a little bit differently through my words.

LILAC: That’s cool.

And people have all kinds of gifts. They make the world a better place through their art, music, photography, dance, recipes, families–

LILAC: I see where you’re going with this. But I’m just a flower. What’s my gift?

Your scent.

LILAC: Really? You mean, all I have to do is sit here and let people smell me?

Yes. And…you can carry on the lilac legacy—for all those lilacs who have been here before and those who will be here after you’re gone.  When you’re no longer here, others will remember your graceful, elegant petals, stunning color and most remarkable scent. You will become part of them.

I’m so neurotic. What about people who aren’t near me now? They won’t be able to smell me.

Just the sight of you will inspire them. Like this amazing illustration of a lilac created by Lisa: https://lismorepaper.com/2018/05/06/lilac-botanical-print/

I never looked better.

And! People can close their eyes and remember a time they experienced a lilac’s scent. 

How?

I’ll show you. Friends who are reading this post, when I count to three, close your eyes and imagine the scent of a lilac. One…two…three…

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What is your gift?

CONVERSATION WITH…The Cheshire Cat from Wonderland…about virtual friendships in older age

/ overthehillontheyellowbrickroad / 82 Comments

Over the Hill on the Yelllow Brick Road, I saw a grinning cat sitting in a tree. A moment later, the cat disappeared. The next moment, he appeared on the top of a bush. Then strangely, his body faded. All that remained was his smile and his eyes. Was it possible he was the Cheshire Cat from the story of Alice in Wonderland? I had to ask!

cheshire cat

Hey—are you—

CHESIRE CAT: Yes I am. The Cheshire Cat.

But, you live in Wonderland. What are you doing here? How did you get Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road?

CHESHIRE CAT: How does anyone ever get anywhere? With great difficulty.

I suppose.

CHESHIRE CAT: But I just had to come. Like the rest of you here, I’m growing older and trying to figure out where I belong in the world. I’m having trouble relating to the Mad Hatter, the White Rabbit, and the others the way I used to. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, I’m changing. I’m obsessing with my age.

That’s how I ended up Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road. I was looking for friends who understood what I was going through. I wasn’t sure where or how I’d find them, but I felt compelled to look.

CHESHIRE CAT: I’m looking for others, like me, who can appear and disappear in older age.

 Oh. Well, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I don’t do that.

CHESHIRE CAT: Of course you do.

What? How?

CHESHIRE CAT: You’re a blogger. And so are most of the others who are reading my words right now. Your relationships with each other appear and disappear with a tap of an electronic device. As soon as your phones or computers are turned off, you’re gone. And as soon as you return to the internet, you appear.

You know, you’re right—

CHESHIRE CAT: The question is, if your blogger friends are virtual, are they real?

Well, you appear and disappear, and you’re real.

CHESHIRE CAT: Fair point. But how can you be sure?

Because though I can only see your grin and your eyes at the moment, I feel your spirit as you speak. The same is true with my virtual blogging community.

CHESHIRE CAT: Hmmm…Anything else?

Well, when I don’t have access to the internet, I’m sad. I miss my virtual friends.

CHESHIRE CAT: Hmm. Do say more.

Since virtual bloggers and I communicate through posts and comment sections, we say exactly what we want to say, very concisely. No small talk. And we speak from our hearts.

CHESHIRE CAT: Intriguing.

Also- I never worry about the way I look when I communicate with virtual friends. I don’t have to clean my house before I speak to them. I don’t have to make special appointments to get together and then change my schedule around. We appear to each other, and disappear, whenever we’re ready.

CHESHIRE CAT: Increasingly interesting…

And, if I can’t leave home due to health issues or other problems, my virtual community is still there. We communicate the way we always do. So, though I have never met these amazing people in the flesh, they MUST BE REAL.

CHESHIRE CAT: It’s a distinct possibility. In that case…when I return to Wonderland, might I join your virtual community? May I follow your blog?

I would love that.

CHESHIRE CAT: Thank you.

So…I guess you’re saying…you don’t think it’s insane that I call a virtual community of people, who appear and disappear, my friends?

CHESHIRE CAT: Do I think it’s insane? Well…you know what they say in Wonderland. We’re all mad.

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Are you real?

CONVERSATION WITH…MY OLDEST DOLL…Because I Still Love to Play

/ overthehillontheyellowbrickroad / 92 Comments

Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I couldn’t believe it!  My oldest childhood doll, Chatty Cathy, was waddling toward me!  I rushed over and gave her the biggest hug!

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Chatty Cathy!  What are you doing here?

CHATTY CATHY DOLL:  I heard you were visiting these parts and I had to see you!

OMG!  You look great!

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Well, I’d look better if you hadn’t given me a bad haircut back when you were a little girl. I still don’t appreciate the bald spot in the back of my head.

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I’m so sorry.  My sister and I were playing barber.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: I guess you felt you had to wash my hair with Ajax, too?

It probably didn’t help the texture.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: But I loved you anyway!  You were the best little girl!  We had the silliest imaginary tea parties!  And the craziest times playing house!  And I loved when you shoved me on the make believe school bus with all the rest of the dolls and your sister pushed us all around the room in a giant chair.

Yeah, you just went around and around and around the room and never made it to school.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Good times!

Yes, they were. And I’ll let you in on a secret.  I’m still a little girl.  I still love to play and play and play and play.  It’s just harder to find someone to play with as I get older.

CHATTY CATHY: I’ll  play with you!

You will??  I would love that!  What should we play?  I mean, I’m not into having an imaginary tea party or playing house anymore. How can we play with each other now that we’re both older?  What can we play?

CHATTY CATHY: Hmmm…I’m not sure.  I should tell you the “talking ring” on the back of my neck doesn’t work anymore.  When you pull it out, the spring is broken so it just snaps back.

It doesn’t matter, I don’t work as well as I used to either. I guess if we’re going to play, we should play about something that matters in our lives right now. 

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Like what?

I know! 

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Uh oh.

Hear me out. I’ve been thinking about adding a little pink or purple in my hair for the past few years. But, I don’t want to bleach my hair to do it. Also, I’m wondering if I’m too old to walk around with that look.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: So, what made you think of it now?

I just noticed L’Oreal came out with a new one-day color spray product.  You can spray pink or purple in your hair and it will wash out after one shampoo!  So if you don’t like it or feel foolish, one hair wash and it’s gone.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL:  So do it!

Well, I’m still kind of afraid, so…

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: You want me to do it.

Pleeeease????

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Actually, I could use a change.

I’ll tell you what.  I’ll just do your bangs.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Deal.

Here I go…

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Wow!!!! You look amazing!!!!

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Thanks. You know what?  I love it!  This is really uplifting and fun!

It was fun for me to spray you, too!  Like when we used to play barber, but better. Because this time you actually look good.

Did you notice you got some on my dress?

Oh. I’m sorry.  I’ll wash it.

CHATTY CATHY DOLL: Now spray some pink in YOUR hair.

Um…I’m still afraid. I don’t know…Should I do it???

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Who still plays with their old toys?  Come on.  You can say it.

CONVERSATION WITH…A TARNISHED EMMY AWARD…WONDERING IF TWO DREAMS CAN COME TRUE IN A LIFETIME

/ overthehillontheyellowbrickroad / 55 Comments

Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road, I passed an abandoned house.  In the attic window, I noticed a tarnished Emmy Award.  Since the house was empty, I wandered upstairs and had a conversation with that poor, neglected award.

Emmy

Emmy Award, what are you doing up here all alone?

EMMY AWARD:  I’m tarnished.

Yeah. I’m surprised you’re not made of real gold.

EMMY AWARD: That’s my million dollar secret.  And since I’ve been sitting here in the window for years, the sun has faded me to silver.

Wow. On a positive note, your upper arms look amazing! I mean, holding up that ball for years has given you great upper body strength.

EMMY AWARD: Thanks.

Your arms are so sleek and toned.  Mine are so flabby I bet if I moved them up and down fast enough I’d fly away.

EMMY AWARD: That’s enough about my arms. Here’s the bottom line. There was a time when I stood for someone’s dream come true.  I stood for that happy time. It was amazing, but that ship has sailed.  I represented a dream, but I don’t think it’s possible for two dreams to come true in a lifetime.

I don’t agree. I think no matter how old we get, our creativity can carry us to new places if we let it.  More than one dream can come true.

EMMY AWARD: Not for me. I’m pretty much forgotten forever.  I’m not seeing myself standing for anything important anymore.

 Actually, I have an idea. I write a blog. Other bloggers read it, make comments, or let me know they “liked” a post. At this time of year, I’d love to let them know how much I appreciate them. They add so much to my life.  I’m most grateful.

EMMY AWARD: So what does that have to do with me?

Everyone who reads my blog is most deserving of an award.  So I’d like you to become the official Blogger Emmy Award.  I’ll call you the “Blemmy.”

EMMY AWARD: The Blemmy.  I like that.  Has a nice rhythm to it.  I’m in.

Great!  Okay…so……dearest Blogger friends who are followers, commenters, or who have tapped the “like” button on “Over the Hill on the Yellow Brick Road,” I am presenting this Blemmy Award to YOU.   IF YOU ARE READING THIS POST, YOU ARE A BLEMMY WINNER. Your category?  Best Blogger in a Supporting Role. Thank you thank you thank you for supporting my creativity.

And! Since you’re on the Red Carpet, if you’re up for writing your acceptance speech, I’d LOVE to see it in the Comment Box!

Your acceptance speech can include thanks to other bloggers who have helped you become the blogger you are today (please include their links). LOL.

Happy Holidays to you all, and may all your dreams and wishes come true. 

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