“I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.” ~ Gilda Radner Uncertainty and ambiguity tend to become anathema in grown-up life. Marriage, parenting, career, ...
Middle age
Little Pot Belly
What little pot belly? Me? Are you kidding?!?! [Suck in gut. Turn sideways. Gaze confidently into mirror.] Nope. No little pot belly. Nothing. Not me! I'm trim. Fit. Svelte. Looking better than my thirties. Little pot belly... whatever! Billy Crystal's Midlife Crunch So you're feeling optimistic. You're advancing on your midlife quest for greater creativity and curiosity (and a healthier, ...
Midlife Monologue
I'm curious about your midlife monologue. Everyone's middle age is different. Some don't experience any transition at all (or so they insist), while others wrestle creatively/productively/disastrously/etc. with middle ages's inevitable shifts and changes. What's your midlife experience? Leap, pivot, or crisis? Positive transition or turmoil? Tiny tweaks or ...
Midlife: Fumbling Forward
"I saw how a man who, unexpectedly, in midlife, had been dumped for someone else, might struggle to keep up his old sense of self, his old optimism. How he might take on an Indiana Jones look, indicative of hopes of adventure, while being careful not to get into anything new that might result in further pain. I saw the polite charm, the detachment, the silk shirt and the expensive restaurant ...
Midlife Impetus
Mid-life crises do not always lead to inappropriate or risky behaviors. For some, it is a time to learn new things, break some bad habits, or broaden their horizons. It can be the impetus to lose weight, start exercising, or finally take those piano lessons you have been talking about doing for years on end. ~ Len Kay (Source: Surviving the Midlife Crisis | Age Smart) Are you curious about a ...
Middling
"Fair to middlin'...," she says, visibly, audibly, olfactorily tired. Like a threshold, I think to myself but say nothing since she looks and sounds unready for clever or even philosophical fat chewing. "How have you been?" I had asked reflexively. "Fine, and you?" That's what I expected if I expected anything at all. But instead, a verbal grimace, "Fair to middlin'." I can't help but prologue her ...