Zihuatanejo: Mariposas, Mangos and Margaritas

It's lush, fragrant and green on the way to the beach

I just returned from a 10-day trip to Zihuatanejo. I was on my way to my Saturday morning yoga class yesterday, when one of my many fans (and it's mutual dude) rode by on his bike and told me that he was looking forward to what I had to say on the topic of Zihua.

Since a writer cannot be read without readers, and because I truly enjoy sharing travel experiences, along with ongoing musing about aging, art, creativity and life on the earth plane, here goes.

I decided to take a seaside holiday in Mexico to celebrate my 75th birthday. Which is not happening until the end of April, but these days the ship I operate is flying the flags of Choose Joy and Eat Dessert First. In that spirit I think it was logical to start celebrating my birthday early.

The entry to El Tamarindo

I had never been to Zihua, or Z if you really like to be succinct. It is "not a village" as my old friend Mitzi L. points out. Located north of Acapulco, its population is around 100,000.

Zihua is remembered by some folks as a location in the film The Shawshank Redemption. I still haven't seen that film. Therefore, I had no prior concepts, except for my ongoing Tropical Beach Fantasies, which are a longterm condition with me. And for this lingering thirst, I found Zihua quenching. Its wide bay sparkles with clear, calm water--warm salty water perfect for delicious swimming that is freeing, relaxing, utterly marvelous.

And of course, in counterpoint, unseen bugs are making their marks on one's flesh.

Processions of gringos in variegated regalia pass along the beach. Mexican families appear with their children. Solitary locals wade out in the water with their fishing nets.

Boats, ships and sailing vessels of various shapes and capabilities come and go. And everywhere, butterflies of all sizes and colors flutter through the air, their luminous, fragile bodies igniting a sense of joy and delight.

 

“I embrace emerging experience.
I participate in discovery.
I am a butterfly.
I am not a butterfly collector.
I want the experience of the butterfly.”

 

--Oregon poet William Stafford

In the patio of the large casa

I stayed in a very pleasant studio at El Tamarindo, which I booked through Airbnb. It's located about two blocks from Playa La Ropa, which is considered to be the primo beach in the area. El Tamarindo studios are part of a lovely large home which contains a variety of rental units. It's a beautiful, clean, friendly place, very well run by Carol Juk, who has been living in Z for 20 years now. She and her husband John took me into El Centro one day and showed me some restaurants, markets and other local places of interest.  They and everyone on their staff are so relaxed and kind.

A street for strolling in El Centro

There was a wonderful collection of books available, too and I enjoyed the pleasure of galloping through several of them in between the pleasures of swimming and sunning, exploring, and eating. No computer, no phone, no email. Just those books.

I read a wild travelogue by Peter Moore titled The Whole Montezuma. I finished two novels--Pigs in Heaven by Barbara Kingsolver and The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. Both marvelous. And then there was Configurations, a wonderful book containing the poetry of Octavio Paz in both Spanish and English. While in Z, I was thoroughly drenched with the magic of words.

Speaking of words, it's said that one possible meaning of Zihuatanejo might derive from the Nahuatl language, referring to the "place of women" the western paradise of the Nahuatl universe, "the home of the goddess women."

I just leave that as a seed for the imagination. And there is some evidence. For one thing, there are seven statues of women scattered through El Centro and they are meant to represent the seven areas of Guerrero.


I took photos of several of them. Beautiful, no? Yes. I think you will agree.



















Last January when I was in Ensenada in northern Baja,  I took a photo of a large statue that ornaments one of the city's oldest parks. The statue depicts a breastfeeding mother. Unfortunately it is hard to imagine finding one like it in the US. But I will not get into that right now....

Mexico is different. And that is one of the things I love about it. Because after all, women are half of the human experience.

No doubt there is plenty to be said about each of these statues, but I am not an authority on the topic, so you will have to find somebody else to say it. All I can report here is that they are quite lovely. And I am glad that they grace Zihuatanejo.

La Barra de Potosi, a village near Zihua

 

Two friends from Ashland were staying up the road while I was in Z, and we swam, explored and enjoyed some tasty meals together. I enjoyed their company. One day we took a ride out to La Barra de Potosi in a taxi driven by the charming Antonio, who was born in Z. "And so was my father and my grandfather," he told us.

La Barra de Potosi is a small fishing village with about 600 inhabitants. The village faces an expansive bay, and includes a lagoon area which has a large mangrove estuary filled with birds. In the winter season the bay hosts humpback whales, which can be seen leaping from the water with their white fins outstretched like wings. What a tranquil, wonderful place.


La Sirena Gorda

I had to stop at  La Sirena Gorda "The Fat Mermaid" for a meal one day. Well, just because....

The food was good and there were many paintings and sculptures of zaftig, voluptuous, chubby, fat mermaids adorning the walls.






I like the Mexican sense of humor. And it's refreshing to be in a culture that appreciates the fleshly contours of women.

These are just two of the many paintings of plump mermaids I saw there at La Sirena Gorda.

Having a Good Time

One day I was in a small fruit stand outside of the Mercado Campesino. I tried to move aside to let an old woman pass. She was petite: the top of her head came to my heart area. Her gray hair was pulled back into a bun. Her thin brown face was well wrinkled. She was carrying an umbrella and wore a loose cotton dress that would have been at home in the 1930s.

I stepped to one side, and so did she. I stepped to the other side, and she did too. Then she raised her umbrella in a flourish, looked up at me and smiled. She began to dance, gracefully and in earnest. Of course, I had to dance too, not just to be polite for heaven's sake, but because when two old women meet that way among the mangos and tomatoes, it's good to celebrate the moment. And I wish I understood what she said to me when we ended our dance together. Here's what I think she said. "Nice to meet you, sister. May the Dance be with you." And with you I told her with my eyes.

Life Happens in the Midst of Various Fantasies

The usual fantasy

The Idyllic Beach Life Fantasy

When I started planning a journey to Mexico last summer, I fell back into my habitual fantasies, which in this case involve the Idyllic Beach Life. Yes, I told myself, I will find a beautiful little village by the Sea of Cortez, or perhaps on some peaceful bay on the mainland, a place where the water is turquoise and calm and the people are also calm, amiable and brown in tone. I will sunbathe, swim, and eat tropical fruits. I will work on my new book. I will take long walks on the beach and meet interesting, even fascinating, people from many places. I will lie in a hammock. Some beer from time to time. Seafood. And so forth and so on.

Okay. I have been in Mexico since late October. I did put on my purple bathing suit once, when I enjoyed an all too brief visit to La Gruta Spa in San Miguel Allende in November. Now it’s February and I have arrived in Ensenada, where there are beaches. I have not seen them yet. And even when I do (soon I hope) it is still a bit chilly here for swimming. At least that is my experience at the moment. 

 

Parque Revolution in Ensenada

In Spite of Everything, Real Life Happens

Yes, I am in Ensenada, a city in northern Baja that is just 78 miles from the US border. Ensenada is known as "The Cinderella of the Pacific." Why is that you wonder? I do not really know yet. So far it is seems a fairly pleasant but unremarkable place, at least compared to ancient cities like Guanajuato and Oaxaca, which are so dense with history and culture. Perhaps I have not arrived at that part in the story when the fair maid collecting cinders from the hearth turns into a beautiful princess. That could be it. Time will tell.

A statue of a breastfeeding mother at the entry to the park

Thanks to the good offices of my friend Iridea, I have a small apartment a half block away from Parque Revolution, which is located in an old, relaxed neighborhood. I have a kitchen! This is big news to me after 6 weeks without one.

Right now a young guy with lots of shiny gel on his hair (I still want to take pictures of the haircuts young guys have here because some of them are fabulous) is installing phone and internet service in my new apartment. They were supposed to have installed it yesterday but as Fernanda from Café Cafe down the street said to me, “Welcome to Mexico.” People here are often fatalistic and resigned about how long things can take to get done.

Fernanda at Cafe Cafe

Helpful People!

Speaking of Fernanda, she has been so kind to me. I have spent a lot of time at Café Café since I arrived, using the WiFi, drinking juices, teas, and coffee. 

Fernanda has lived here for many years, and she loves Ensenada. Which is good for me to hear,  because I am still quite unfamiliar with it and as I have said, its charms remain to be seen and known by me. 

David at the vegetable market nearby

Traveling has made me more aware of how many people are always helping me in one way or another. Iridea helped me a great deal by finding me this apartment. Fernanda helped me with her generous spirit and presence. Friends in Oregon and other places helped me via email with love and encouragement.

Also, Joaquin the son of Maria has been very helpful since I arrived. Joaquin as I said is the son of Maria, who is 85, a small, thin elegant woman. They own and reside in the adjacent main house, which is beautifully furnished. 

In the beautiful cafe Squisito, just up the street from my place

I don't think I could have gotten anything done without Joaquin. He speaks English well and he is both sophisticated and kind. He took me to get the electricity turned on in my place, and then the next day we worked on finding Internet and phone service. 

Twice we visited the incredibly surreal Izzi office, where the sound from many excited customer/staff conversations wove the air around us into a crazy static. Even for Mexico, it was wildly noisy. 

Joaquin also gave me a list of Important places including interesting markets, restaurants and cafes. Today I went to the fish market he recommended and got some incredible fish. Swordfish, but not the kind we are used to in the US. Very different. 

I bought some delicious bread at the bakery on his list and some hard-to-find food items at a particular market he suggested I would like. I still haven't gone to the restaurant around the corner whose food and atmosphere he assured me I would love. I am tired of dining out alone and plan to do that with a new friend. I am in the process of making new friends of course. I met a wonderful woman last Friday, and will probably get together with her again later this week. She has lived here for over 20 years, and I like her a lot. She has both warmth and character. I am having coffee tomorrow morning with another woman, who is a writer and healer. She is just moving into town from Punta Banda, the peninsula south of Ensenada where many US expats cluster.

I did have a meltdown yesterday afternoon, but it didn't last too long, fortunately. During the meltdown, I told myself I couldn't stand it here another minute in Mexico. I was very frustrated about my inability to understand or speak Spanish. I was feeling very out of place. I just wanted to fly right back to Oregon, the sooner the better. 

Wouldn't it be nice I thought to buy a mobile home in Wingspread Park in Ashland, and live there with my friend Louise, or maybe Lois? I was picturing decorating it, and starting a garden in the yard next to the mobile home. Idyllically Living with a Friend fantasy.

I have to laugh at myself at times. Fairly often in fact. Well, who knows? That Wingspread fantasy might happen some day, or it could be just another fly-by-night fantasy, like the Idyllic Beach Life, which of course could also happen. Many things are yet to be revealed. And so it is, opening up every moment.

PABLO CASALS ON AGING
"On my last birthday I was ninety-three years old. That is not young, of
course. In fact, it is older than ninety. But age is a relative matter. If you continue to work and to absorb the beauty in the world about you, you find that age does not necessarily mean getting old. At least, not in the ordinary sense. I feel many things more intensely than ever before, and for me life grows more fascinating."

At night, they were singing at the grave of Jose Alfredo Jiminez

Domingo, 7am--let's start the day with a loud celebratory explosion! Not just one, but four of them resounded across the valley this morning.

I don't know what the occasion was but Viva la Vida! Lucy told me later it is a religious holiday, shaking her head in consternation at the mode of  observing it.

Yesterday a few of us took a day trip to Santa Rosa and Dolores Hidalgo with Alberto, an endearing tour guide who is also a teacher at Escuela Falcon, where I just finished three weeks of study in the Spanish language, so beautiful and confounding. 

At our graduation ceremony on Friday, I was given a certificate announcing that I had completed 30 hours of course time. When Gonzalo called me up, saying "Lupita," the fans of my Lupita subpersonality all chanted Lupita! Lupita! Lupita! grinning at me and raising their arms in that gesture usually reserved for rock and sports stars. Yes, Lupita liked that. She can be a bit of a coyote type of mujer. But enough of Lupita.

Back to our trip. I found this small church in the village of Santa Rosa, so very different from the grand cathedrals of Guanajuato,  sweet in its simplicity.  I liked the small village of Santa Rosa. Small, with its fresh clean air and that country feeling. It felt good to get out of the city for awhile.




There were delightful back alleys in Santa Rosa. Here is one. There was also a big shop that sold elaborate ceramics that were very Italianate.  We stopped there to survey the many platters, jars, plates, house markers, and planters large and small, among other things. The ceramics producer did not allow photos, or I would have taken at least a few of the elaborate and beautiful jars, trays, pots, plates, etc.

In general, their style is not one I favor, even though the craftsmanship is excellent. I find them too fussy, except for a few designs. People compare them to majolica, but I don't find much resemblance.

We also stopped at another much smaller shop that sells locally made liqueurs, jams and other foods---all made by the women of the town and all fresh and delicious. I bought some jam for Lucy, and some piquant pumpkin seeds for myself.



The road we took led us through an expansive, wonderful countryside of hills and valleys, dotted with cactus and small trees.

The Guanajuato area is in the altiplano or high plains of Mexico.The central Mexican plateau, also known as the Mexican Altiplano, is a large arid-to-semi-arid plateau that occupies much of northern and central Mexico. It averages 5,988 ft. above sea level.

The cities where I will be traveling next are both in the altiplano, too. Puebla is at 7,000 feet elevation and Oaxaca is at 5,000 feet. And to think, I was aiming for time at the beach. Hopefully, I will descend to sea level  and the oceanside in January.

Our group of day trippers had a meal at a restaurant housed in a hacienda on the road to San Filipe. I know this is going to sound as if I was just having an off day, but while I loved the hacienda, and while the food was okay, I would not rate it at the top of my list in terms of foods I have eaten since I got to Mexico.   I am usually not wild about meals in which meat is the main component-- unless the meat is cooked in a spectacular or fascinating way.  My lunch consisted of a large piece of chicken that was probably pounded thin and then cooked quite simply. It was served with thick cut fried potatoes and guacamole. The salsa was delicious and with some Victoria beer and interesting conversation, the interlude was quite enjoyable. The couple from San Francisco professed to like it very much. Their meal was much like mine, but with a large piece of tenderized beef.

I am not a restaurant critic after all, but simply a woman who seems to be getting a lot more enjoyment out of dishes like pozole, sopa azteca and quesadillas made with jamaica flowers and cheese.

We spent some time looking at the ceramics made in Dolores Hidalgo and again, I was not wild about their style, which seems garish next to the older Talavera designs made in Puebla, which I really do like very much.

This particular piece is actually one of the nicer designs I saw there. Many of the designs are more like these jars below, which are fun and colorful if you want that look, but too garish for me. Even Lupita does not like them that much.

Oh, but before we did any visiting of ceramic shops, we stopped at the cemetery where Jose Alfredo Jiminez is buried.

Jiminez is a much beloved figure in Mexico. He was a Mexican singer-songwriter who was born in the town of Dolores Hidalgo in 1926. His many songs in the mariachi style are considered an integral part of Mexico's musical heritage.

Jiminez had no musical training and could not play any musical instrument, yet he composed over 1,000 widely sung and covered songs.  His songs are so much loved that people in large groups sing along with them in a soulful way, as we discovered later at the concert we attended. Even 5-year old children know the lyrics to some of his songs.

It is somewhat startling to walk through an old cemetery with all the customary angels and heavenly discourses, a crowded place filled with the overwhelming grayness of marble monuments,  and to come upon a festive scene at the location of a very large sombrero and rebozo. This particular display marks the grave of the beloved composer.

This is the grave of Jose Alfredo Jiminez

When we got to the grave site, we found many people of all ages assembled there. Many of the older men were convivial and inebriated. Actually everyone was quite convivial, no matter whether sober or drunk.

Elaborate wreaths of flowers decorated the grave. It was the day before the commemoration of his death on  November 23, 1973. He was only 47 when he died of cirrosis of the liver, the result of a life of heavy drinking.

Alberto said that the visitors would continue throughout the day, and so would the drinking. At 10 in the evening,  Alberto told us that people would be singing Jiminez' songs at his grave, and no doubt by that time the atmosphere would be even more likkered up.

We did not participate in that rite, but we did head to the big plaza that ornaments the center of Dolores Hidalgo, where a concert was to be held spotlighting 40 of Jiminez' best-known songs.

The concert was wonderful, once the first singer finished. She was a well-known pop singer with long curly blond hair and a style like so many of the current pop divas. I was underwhelmed by her voice and style. She did her best to engage the audience, with lukewarm results.

Finally, she was done and Fernando de la Mora, a famous operatic tenor, appeared in a tuxedo, every inch of him totally dynamic and arresting. From then on, I was completely entranced. What a gift to hear him sing the songs of Jose Alfredo Jiminez with his majestic voice.

Another view of the grave site

He received a far warmer reception from the audience than the pop singer did. Soon the audience was singing back to him.

De la Mora was backed by a full mariachi band,  elaborately costumed and complete with guitars, harp, accordian and trumpets. Perhaps there were other instruments, too that I did not notice. It was a grand experience, thrilling to hear a voice of that quality in the person of a singer that seemed to be so elegant and warm.

Fernando de la Mora

Today, as I walked down the street of the ancient mermaids towards Calzada de Guadalupe, two burros grazed peacefully on the weeds in a nearby small field.  I've never seen them here before, but I have grown familiar with the pulse of life on this street, the young guy who heads out on his motor scooter every day, the two small dogs at the nearby tienda, one dirty and the other dirty and wearing a dirty sweater. I have grown familiar with the people riding their horses up and down the old street, with the young mothers hurrying their children down to school, the old women walking slowly up the steep incline.

I have grown fond of Lucy, who has been so kind and with whom I have shared some lovely times.  I have grown fond of Laura, who comes to clean each week. I have grown fond of Bashka, my friend from Poland, and Mariana, who lives nearby in a small village. But when you are traveling, you leave places. You leave people. You head out into the unknown again.

As travel author Bill Bryson says,“To my mind, the greatest reward and luxury of travel is to be able to experience everyday things as if for the first time, to be in a position in which almost nothing is so familiar it is taken for granted.”

In the Midst of the Mystery

Full moon over the mountains, 3 Sisters, Oregon

I Looked Up

I looked up and there it was
among the green branches of the pitchpines -

thick bird,
a ruffle of fire trailing over the shoulders and down the back -

color of copper, iron, bronze –
lighting up the dark branches of the pine.

What misery to be afraid of death.
What wretchedness, to believe only in what can be proven.

When I made a little sound
it looked at me, then it looked past me.

Then it rose, the wings enormous and opulent,
and, as I said, wreathed in fire.

                                                                                 --Mary Oliver



People are telling me that they want to follow my adventures. The ones I will supposedly be having when I start traveling. What about the adventures that I am having right now? My homeless, car-less woman adventures.  I am walking everywhere and also taking the bus, which makes me feel I am in a new town, rather than one I have lived in since 1977.

A beautiful moment during Khenpo Tsewang Dongyal's teachings at Tashi Choling.

It's slower moving around this way. You have much more opportunity to look at the sky and the clouds, what's growing in people's gardens, kids playing ball. Everything seems a lot more immediate. Today I got lost. I was on my way to get some bodywork. Two words: Beth Heller. She has long experience and combines Feldenkreis and Aston patterning work. Amazing, subtle, effective work.

Anyway, I was on my way to that appointment, walking up a steep hill and apparently I made a wrong turn. I saw a man who was polishing his truck. He looked like a good guy and I said, "Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to Peachy Street?" He must have thought I looked like a good woman because he said "Oh, you're a long way off. Let me give you a ride." I was happy to accept and he got me to the appointment on time, and in good company.  When I thanked him, he told me with a smile, "No good deed goes unrewarded."   He was a real mensch.

Later I ate some sushi while I waited at a bus stop at the south end of town. I wrote some poetry on a receipt from the grocery store. On the bus, I met a woman who lives in Estes Park, Colorado. Turned out she taught at Eagle Rock School, where my daughter attended high school. This doesn't happen when you are in a car.

I don't think of myself as a traveler, though I have been to a few places, including Japan, Hawaii, Canada and Mexico and various states in the US. For the past few years I have been telling myself I have to get out and explore the world a bit more to see if there is another place I might live more affordably. I am very fond of Ashland, Oregon and it feels right to be taking a break.

It is hard for me to imagine living away from Tashi Choling, the Tibetan Buddhist center I helped to found many years ago. Especially as I age, I want to have the companionship and friendship of others who are on the same spiritual path as I am. And their support at the time of my death, which is an important time. Speaking of adventure! Wheee! Nothing can match death for adventure, except maybe birth.

As Mary Oliver says it is wretched to be afraid of death and to believe only in what can be proven.  I have never had much problem with the second part. I don't think I am afraid of death, but I would prefer to die in the midst of my spiritual community. So is it likely I will relocate to Mexico? Probably not, unless I find a congenial place where there are other Tibetan Buddhist practitioners, which there are in Ensenada, Cholula and Mexico City, according to my current research.

Why does everyone equate travel with adventure? Is it because we become so accustomed to living our everyday lives in our familiar environments that we lose the crisp and surprising qualities that can occur in travel? I think it must be that. And we are longing for new vistas, new peoples, new dances, new foods, new and strangely wonderful landscapes. These elements, we feel, will teach us new things about ourselves. I'm sure it is all true. As Danny Kaye once said, "To travel is to take a journey into yourself."

I will be in Guanajuato for Day of the Dead. I know only a little about this ancient holy day. Maybe that's good. I know it is about honoring the ancestors. That could be enough to begin with. I can learn more.

I know very little Spanish. Since I like communicating, that makes me a bit nervous. I will learn some Spanish. I can learn more.

Mi siente muy feliz!

Yes, and probably I will meet a lot of other people learning Spanish, too. Who knows who I will meet?
Hopefully, some of them will be marvelous.

I know absolutely nobody in Guanajuato. That is bound to be interesting. One reason why I am taking this trip is to challenge my limitations and stretch my imagination. So no problem not knowing anybody, right? Right.

A street in Guanajuato

I will be staying at Aunt Lucy's Guesthouse. Did I choose Aunt Lucy's Guesthouse because the name sounds so comforting and reassuringly friendly? Well yes that was part of it.

I am waiting to see whether Aunt Lucy is around my age. I have a hunch that she is.  She speaks no English, but everyone says that is not a problem.

Here's one person's comment: "Aunt Lucy was very kind, always helpful; we spent hours talking about each other's life, she is a well educated person with lots of knowledge, she's a life counselor, in just two days that I stayed there I really feel affection for her, I felt like home. I give her 20 out of 10, without a doubt the best part of being in Guanajuato was to meet her."

So this and other similar comments make me feel that I am going to be settling into a good place in Guanajuato for a month stay. And that's grand.

It's past the autumn equinox, and in the northern lattitudes the light is decreasing. What will it be like to be that much further south in the winter season? I am looking forward to finding out.

I will be in Guanajuato in November and Oaxaca in December. I want to find a beautiful beach place for January but so far everything I see is beyond my budget.  I am hoping I make some good connections in that regard once I am in Mexico. Or if any of you readers have any ideas, do tell.

Last but not least in any way , how wonderful that the 17-year old Palestinian woman Malala Yousafzai won the Nobel Peace Prize! It is a good reason for women to dance around the fire. May peace increase throughout the world, and may it begin within me.

Elder Beat: Books, Movies and Classes

Some recommended reading

I just finished reading two wonderful books on aging--Still Here: Embracing Aging, Changing and Dying by Ram Dass and Old Age by Helen M. Luke.

In Still Here, Ram Dass, a spiritual teacher and best-selling author of the 60s classic Be Here Now, shares the radical changes he underwent after a disabling stroke brought him close to death. He had been traveling constantly, in demand as a speaker and seminar leader. Then he found himself needing round the clock care.

Ram Dass has had a life jam-packed with adventure and he is a delightful writer and storyteller.  In this book he debunks common stereotypes about aging and gives wonderful suggestions for working with common fears and anxieties about aging.  He speaks of encountering aging from the Soul's perspective, and suggests ways to engage in the spiritual opportunities that are inherent in aging, illness and loss. Highly recommended.

Helen M. Luke's book Old Age is a more demanding read, but it's well worth it to take the time to digest Luke's substantial insights about the inner tasks of aging. She investigates these tasks from a Jungian perspective, using as subjects some key figures from literature, including Odesseus, the hero of Homer's Odyssey, Shakespeare's King Lear and Prospero from Shakespeare's play The Tempest. A beautiful look at some of the big themes of later life, including letting go and foregiveness.

First try at making candied violets

In the midst of the Elder Beat work, I made candied violets for the first time. Some of them are more beautiful than others, as I lack the finesse I may develop if I decide to do it again. Now I've made a chestnut cake and will put some of the violets on it as decorations. Old fashioned. I love the delicate scent of the violets in the kitchen.

I saw two movies recently that I found wonderful. One is The Hedgehog, a French film from 2009. Wonderful characters and very good acting, with a splash of magical realism thrown in to allow us to suspend our disbelief with some of the action. There are two great older people featured, one a frumpy widow who manages an upscale apartment building and maintains a big library in a hidden room, and the other an elegant and somewhat mysterious Japanese man.

I also saw Quartet, which I loved. A great script, actors and wonderful setting. If one were to live in an old age facility, the gorgeous estate pictured in this film would be a far from shabby choice.  Gosh, Maggie Smith is finding so many roles these days and as usual she's doing an excellent job. The film has some of the same fairy dust sparkle that The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel had--one critic calls it elder fantasy. And to that I say, we all can use some uplifting fantasy, no matter what our age. In the midst of the sparkle, the film takes a look at the importance of friends, community, creativity, forgiveness and reconciliation, all important themes of later life.

This week, I led two different gatherings. One was my class at OLLI on Retirement, Refirement and Successful Aging. The second was an elder circle I offer monthly at Skylark Assisted Living, where my long-time friend Kate lives.  I enjoy both venues, and they are quite different in many ways. At the OLLI class, I discussed some of the developmental tasks of later life and shared the perspectives of Erick Erickson and Carl Jung. The notion of life review and life repair was new to some in the class so I provided some thoughts on how one might start to engage in the process. I introduced a simple chi gong exercise, too.

At Skylark, we focused on the importance of attitude in working with disability and dependence. I used Ram Dass' book Still Here as a reference. Some of the group are using walkers or wheelchairs, so it was quite relevant for them.

Gathering with others to discuss aging and its issues and opportunities is always a great learning experience.  So many older adults in our culture still live according to the values of youth, pushing themselves to hyperactive engagement, filling their entire schedule with activities, not leaving time open for reflection and simply being. That's one reason why aging entails a lot of suffering for modern people. They deny it, ignore it, try to fend it off instead of getting curious about exploring it.

It is nearly spring and I am still in my escapist mode, dreaming of warmer climes. I found this image and put it into my visioning book because it felt good to imagine being in this place with a palapa roof and a beautiful pool nearby.

It is somewhere in Chile, I think. In my ideal year, I will spend a couple of months during the winter in Mexico or Thailand or Bali. Ahhh....it is good to have dreams.

I am still working on the final song for A New Wrinkle, our paradigm-shifting musical revue on aging. Sometimes the songs appeared as if they were waiting in the vestibule but sometimes the Muse seems to be somewhere just out of sight.

Two other projects are still in the works--something I am calling Your Audacious Aging Kit will hopefully get done soon. It seems that Songs of the Inner Life may take a bit longer to produce, but it will get done, too. All in good time as the saying goes, though the practice of patience is still one I have not perfected.

I am having two dear friends over for dinner tonight, and I am looking forward to being with them. I am fortunate to have a bouquet of wonderful friends. On Sunday, I was invited to attend an Oscar party with some other friends. I even borrowed a sequined gown to wear. I don't think I've worn a gown since I donned an emerald green satin gown for my second marriage ceremony. That was when I was in my mid 30s. So there was a considerable gap in my gown-wearing history. I was much more slender when I wore the emerald green gown, and I definitely had a waist, quite a nice waist. Having a waist is lovely, but I find I am enjoying life even without one.

What next?  This is not a rhetorical question....