In her latest issue of Fierce with Age she focuses on the themes of loneliness, being alone and choosing solitude. She included an excerpt of my book Songs of the Inner Life, in which I reflect upon being solitary and content with that. Click the link above to read the excerpt and the other contributions. Her digests are always worthwhile reading.
I
find that I am content in my own company. This must be what I need at
this time in my life. My daughters are grown. I’ve been single for over a
decade, and I’m sailing toward 70. I don’t know if I will live till the
morning or until I’m 80. But I do know I am in the winter of my life.
And that gives everything I experience and want an edge.” - See more at:
http://fiercewithage.com/digest-of-boomer-wisdom-inspiration-spirituality-20/#sthash.OldJFoAa.dpuf
What are your methods for staying connected? Are you content in your own company, or do you find that you are lonely more than content?
Issues like loneliness are something that I help clients with in my Retirement and Inspirement Coaching practice. Sessions can be done in person or long distance via Skype. I use a variety of tools, which may include rapid eye therapy, hypnotherapy, EFT (tapping), CCT (energy work), meditation and creativity exercises.
Play is an antidote for depression and loneliness.
Play naturally uplifts the spirit, activates the endorphins to increase joy, galvanizes creativity, sparks flexibility and spontaneity and increases well-being.
Play is good for us at any age. What kind of play do you enjoy most in your life?
What kind of play would you like to bring into your life?
P.S.
If you are in Oregon's Rogue Valley, join me as I read from my new book Songs of the Inner Life at the Ashland Library on Monday August 5th at 6:30pm.
Childhood
is finished, adolescence long gone, early adulthood and middle age,
vanished. Yet even into my late forties, I held onto the hope that by
some special magic provided to myself alone I would escape aging, not to
mention dying, that somehow, I would be borne along on the beneficent
stream of time, nicely preserved at a pleasant age, say 30 or so, hair
all shiny black, body slender, with the smooth skin of relative youth.
What a struggle it was, surrendering that fantasy. It took years of
releasing, mourning and grieving. I ‘m not saying it’s completely done
yet. But much of it has lifted off.
I find that I am content in my own company. This must be what I need at this time in my life. My daughters are grown. I’ve been single for over a decade, and I’m sailing toward 70. I don’t know if I will live till the morning or until I’m 80. But I do know I am in the winter of my life. And that gives everything I experience and want an edge.
The Universe continues to be generous, there is no doubt about it. I have found it worthwhile to have a sense of humor about its abundance. Once in awhile, I have the urge to go up to the top of the nearby mountain and just shout “J’accepte! J’accepte already!” as loud as I can, in the hope that the Universe will reconsider my case, and speaking to itself as I’m sure it does, might say, “I think she has learned her cosmic lesson, don’t you?” and lighten up on the red hot lava flow it kindly sends me from time to time in its infinitely wise way. However, I suspect that I am still not finished being smelted in this particular crucible. J’accepte, j’accepte, smiling. J’accepte in whatever mood or circumstance. I am learning acceptance. So far, I have discovered that it is not pushing away. It is not giving up. It is just allowing things to be as they are.
How ironic it is. That’s what I think when I remember this time. Wanting to expand out into more spacious experience, then shrinking up in fear at the enormous power of it. How safe it seems to stay with what is familiar, rather than taking the leap into the unknown. I wanted the big mythic knowledge, and I wanted to hang onto my little self. That was my struggle. I grappled with it as I lived my ordinary hours and days, sweeping the clearing in front of the cabin, making dinner, walking out on the mesa with the wind making waves in the tall grass, looking at the stars, having affairs, studying healing, swimming, writing poetry, working at the general store in Bolinas, that sweet refuge of a village, one of the most beautiful places I’ve had the pleasure to inhabit.…
Nor can I report that I have finished the work of letting go of the little self. I wish I could say that. Then again, if I were done, would I be bragging about it? No, I would be way past bragging about my accomplishments, spiritual or otherwise. I think that when that time comes, it will be a blessed relief. Or maybe by then the idea of blessed relief will be in the past, too.
For more on Songs of the Inner Life, click HERE
- See more at: http://fiercewithage.com/contributors/guest-blog-by-gaea-yudron/#sthash.6Xi8Zsda.dpuf
I find that I am content in my own company. This must be what I need at this time in my life. My daughters are grown. I’ve been single for over a decade, and I’m sailing toward 70. I don’t know if I will live till the morning or until I’m 80. But I do know I am in the winter of my life. And that gives everything I experience and want an edge.
The Universe continues to be generous, there is no doubt about it. I have found it worthwhile to have a sense of humor about its abundance. Once in awhile, I have the urge to go up to the top of the nearby mountain and just shout “J’accepte! J’accepte already!” as loud as I can, in the hope that the Universe will reconsider my case, and speaking to itself as I’m sure it does, might say, “I think she has learned her cosmic lesson, don’t you?” and lighten up on the red hot lava flow it kindly sends me from time to time in its infinitely wise way. However, I suspect that I am still not finished being smelted in this particular crucible. J’accepte, j’accepte, smiling. J’accepte in whatever mood or circumstance. I am learning acceptance. So far, I have discovered that it is not pushing away. It is not giving up. It is just allowing things to be as they are.
How ironic it is. That’s what I think when I remember this time. Wanting to expand out into more spacious experience, then shrinking up in fear at the enormous power of it. How safe it seems to stay with what is familiar, rather than taking the leap into the unknown. I wanted the big mythic knowledge, and I wanted to hang onto my little self. That was my struggle. I grappled with it as I lived my ordinary hours and days, sweeping the clearing in front of the cabin, making dinner, walking out on the mesa with the wind making waves in the tall grass, looking at the stars, having affairs, studying healing, swimming, writing poetry, working at the general store in Bolinas, that sweet refuge of a village, one of the most beautiful places I’ve had the pleasure to inhabit.…
Nor can I report that I have finished the work of letting go of the little self. I wish I could say that. Then again, if I were done, would I be bragging about it? No, I would be way past bragging about my accomplishments, spiritual or otherwise. I think that when that time comes, it will be a blessed relief. Or maybe by then the idea of blessed relief will be in the past, too.
For more on Songs of the Inner Life, click HERE
Childhood
is finished, adolescence long gone, early adulthood and middle age,
vanished. Yet even into my late forties, I held onto the hope that by
some special magic provided to myself alone I would escape aging, not to
mention dying, that somehow, I would be borne along on the beneficent
stream of time, nicely preserved at a pleasant age, say 30 or so, hair
all shiny black, body slender, with the smooth skin of relative youth.
What a struggle it was, surrendering that fantasy. It took years of
releasing, mourning and grieving. I ‘m not saying it’s completely done
yet. But much of it has lifted off.
I find that I am content in my own company. This must be what I need at this time in my life. My daughters are grown. I’ve been single for over a decade, and I’m sailing toward 70. I don’t know if I will live till the morning or until I’m 80. But I do know I am in the winter of my life. And that gives everything I experience and want an edge.
The Universe continues to be generous, there is no doubt about it. I have found it worthwhile to have a sense of humor about its abundance. Once in awhile, I have the urge to go up to the top of the nearby mountain and just shout “J’accepte! J’accepte already!” as loud as I can, in the hope that the Universe will reconsider my case, and speaking to itself as I’m sure it does, might say, “I think she has learned her cosmic lesson, don’t you?” and lighten up on the red hot lava flow it kindly sends me from time to time in its infinitely wise way. However, I suspect that I am still not finished being smelted in this particular crucible. J’accepte, j’accepte, smiling. J’accepte in whatever mood or circumstance. I am learning acceptance. So far, I have discovered that it is not pushing away. It is not giving up. It is just allowing things to be as they are.
How ironic it is. That’s what I think when I remember this time. Wanting to expand out into more spacious experience, then shrinking up in fear at the enormous power of it. How safe it seems to stay with what is familiar, rather than taking the leap into the unknown. I wanted the big mythic knowledge, and I wanted to hang onto my little self. That was my struggle. I grappled with it as I lived my ordinary hours and days, sweeping the clearing in front of the cabin, making dinner, walking out on the mesa with the wind making waves in the tall grass, looking at the stars, having affairs, studying healing, swimming, writing poetry, working at the general store in Bolinas, that sweet refuge of a village, one of the most beautiful places I’ve had the pleasure to inhabit.…
Nor can I report that I have finished the work of letting go of the little self. I wish I could say that. Then again, if I were done, would I be bragging about it? No, I would be way past bragging about my accomplishments, spiritual or otherwise. I think that when that time comes, it will be a blessed relief. Or maybe by then the idea of blessed relief will be in the past, too.
For more on Songs of the Inner Life, click HERE
- See more at: http://fiercewithage.com/contributors/guest-blog-by-gaea-yudron/#sthash.6Xi8Zsda.dpuf
I find that I am content in my own company. This must be what I need at this time in my life. My daughters are grown. I’ve been single for over a decade, and I’m sailing toward 70. I don’t know if I will live till the morning or until I’m 80. But I do know I am in the winter of my life. And that gives everything I experience and want an edge.
The Universe continues to be generous, there is no doubt about it. I have found it worthwhile to have a sense of humor about its abundance. Once in awhile, I have the urge to go up to the top of the nearby mountain and just shout “J’accepte! J’accepte already!” as loud as I can, in the hope that the Universe will reconsider my case, and speaking to itself as I’m sure it does, might say, “I think she has learned her cosmic lesson, don’t you?” and lighten up on the red hot lava flow it kindly sends me from time to time in its infinitely wise way. However, I suspect that I am still not finished being smelted in this particular crucible. J’accepte, j’accepte, smiling. J’accepte in whatever mood or circumstance. I am learning acceptance. So far, I have discovered that it is not pushing away. It is not giving up. It is just allowing things to be as they are.
How ironic it is. That’s what I think when I remember this time. Wanting to expand out into more spacious experience, then shrinking up in fear at the enormous power of it. How safe it seems to stay with what is familiar, rather than taking the leap into the unknown. I wanted the big mythic knowledge, and I wanted to hang onto my little self. That was my struggle. I grappled with it as I lived my ordinary hours and days, sweeping the clearing in front of the cabin, making dinner, walking out on the mesa with the wind making waves in the tall grass, looking at the stars, having affairs, studying healing, swimming, writing poetry, working at the general store in Bolinas, that sweet refuge of a village, one of the most beautiful places I’ve had the pleasure to inhabit.…
Nor can I report that I have finished the work of letting go of the little self. I wish I could say that. Then again, if I were done, would I be bragging about it? No, I would be way past bragging about my accomplishments, spiritual or otherwise. I think that when that time comes, it will be a blessed relief. Or maybe by then the idea of blessed relief will be in the past, too.
For more on Songs of the Inner Life, click HERE
