Iris Ruth Pastor's Blog, page 16

A Compulsion That Can’t Be Corralled In

I’m sorry. I just can’t resist.
It’s a compulsion that just can’t be corralled in.
(I think I’ve been bingeing on too many Yellowstone episodes – I’m starting to think like a cowboy.)
 
It’s a New Year and a New Year calls for a whole new array of quotes to inspire and entertain. And a very thoughtful friend gave me a book of quotes that I’d never run across: Dance first, Think later by Kathryn and Ross Petras.
 
How could I not share some of the pithiest ones with you? So have a hog-killin’ time (cowboy talk for “have a good time.”)
 
Never make a credit decision on a beach.
Victor J. Boschini
College administrator
 
Spend the afternoon. You can’t take it with you.
Annie Dillard
Writer
 
Never trust someone who can’t eat a meal alone at their own kitchen table.
Ellen Barkin
Actress
 
When you see a good move, look for a better one.
Emanuel Lasker
Chess master
 
Live your life the way you want. You’ll figure it out.
John Grisham
Writer
 
You can’t build a reputation on what you intend to do.
Liz Smith
Gossip columnist
 
The boss is never your friend, even if you are sleeping with him.
Jacob M. Appel
Playwright
 
You don’t save a pitcher for tomorrow. Tomorrow it may rain.
Leo Durocher
Baseball manager
 
Always remember that you are unique. Just like everyone else.
Margaret Mead
Anthropologist
 
Choosing the lesser of two evils is still choosing evil.
Jerry Garcia
Musician
 
The big secret to life is that there is no big secret.
Oprah Winfrey
Media magnate
 
Be aware that most people are operating on a very condensed version of the Ten Commandments: the part about murder.
Mark Bricklin
Journalist
 
There is a macroscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth.
Cynthia Heimel
Writer/humorist
 
Enjoy every sandwich.
Warren Zevon
Musician on facing mesothelioma
 
If you can’t be kind, at least be vague.
Miss Manners
(Judith Martin)
Etiquette expert
 
The first rule of holes:
When you’re in one, stop digging. 
Molly Ivins
Writer
 
If you have the choice between humble or cocky, go with cocky. There’s always time to be humble later, once you’ve been proven horrendously, irrevocably wrong.
Kinky Friedman
Singer/writer
 
If you can’t convince them, confuse them.
Harry Truman
Statesman
 
Don’t let the bastards grind you down.
Joseph W. Stillwell
General
 
Nobody should give a shit about an actor’s opinion on politics.
James Caan
Actor
 
When in danger, ponder. When in trouble, delegate. And when in doubt, mumble.
James Boren
Founder of the National Association of Professional Bureaucrats
 
Ever notice how, “What the hell” is always the right answer?
Marilyn Monroe
Actress
 
Life loves to be taken by the lapels and told, “I am with you, kid. Let’s go.”
Maya Angelou
Writer
 
And I will close with this one, dedicated to my five adult sons:
Call home at least once a week.
John Grisham
Writer
 
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor

First The Muddling, Then The Clarity

The beginning of this new year for me is not just about making resolutions, but is centered on trying to gain clarity over what my core values really are – not just muddling through with no clear vision – which, by the way, is what I normally do.
 
I have one advantage though: living in a hurricane-prone area forces me to give thought to what I would take with me as I evacuate to safety. A few of the things I grabbed during the last impending storm surprised me: my late father’s World War 2 duffle bag filled with his uniform, dog tags and letters he received from my mother – his 17-year-old young and lonely war bride. I also snatched an oversized shadow box holding my paternal grandmother’s wedding veil, wedding invitation and her old-fashioned clutch purse. She died at age 42, when my dad was 16. It was the only thing I had that had been hers and I didn’t realize until that moment how much I cherished those scant belongings. 
 
This parsing through my belongings and selecting what meant most helped bring clarity to what I value and what values I’d like to pass on to my children and grandchildren: 
     Respect for family history. 
 
Another lens leading to knowledge of our own core values can be glimpsed by listening and hearing what others say about us. My husband once mentioned to a close friend of mine that he loved my sweetness. My friend burst out laughing. “Iris is a lot of thigs,” she quipped, “but I’d never call her sweet. However, she is resilient, curious and persevering.”
     Resiliency. Curiosity. Perseverance. 
     (More core values to hold close and pass on.)
 
And then I get easily sidetracked – sucked into the vortex of blatant consumerism – of always wanting more – just a little more: 
     A fire pit in my back yard 
     A trip on a river cruise
     Unlimited funds for social media promotion
            
I consciously pull back on my unbridled desires – knowing deep down that another gadget, another vacation, another new and emerging social media medium toy is not the path to my lasting well-being. (However, they sure can make me happy in the moment and that is nothing to be lightly dismissed.) 
 
I begin looking for opportunities to learn and grow that are within my reach. And I slowly realize that one of the things I found so exhausting and frustrating last year was the huge amount of information out there on any subject relating to health. Only problem? It is often conjecture. And it is often conflicting. (For instance, I’m just getting over Covid and still trying to figure out how long I need to quarantine!)  
 
Sometimes we ask and the universe provides what we are seeking. And yesterday it did. It came in the form of an e mail from my friend Dr. Tanya Gold. She has organized a one-day event on health and wellness that will provide us with succinct and cutting-edge information we can use to improve our lives and the lives of those we love. 
 

 
https://www.eventbrite.com/e/embracing-wellness-as-a-habit-tickets-472147314327
 
I’m going. And if you live in the Tampa Bay area, I hope to see you there too.
 
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
 
Iris Ruth Pastor

The Best Way to End One Year & Usher in the Next

Today is the second to last day of 2022 and already I am in full self-improvement mode.
     I’ve got a brand-new planner
     I’m looking into quickbooks to solve my book keeping needs
     And I’m stoked because this is the year I will get thinner, more organized and more computer savvy (I declare those intentions every January 1st.)
 
There are still a few more days before the reality of implementation is upon me. A little self-indulgence is in order before the rigors of a new routine beckon me to begin on yet another self-improvement quest. 
 
Before recalibrating and re-engaging with reality, I mull over this quote by the late Iris Murdoch, Irish and British novelist and philosopher:
One of the secrets of a happy life is continuous small treats.
Who can argue with that?
 
And I can’t think of anything better as a continuous small treat than freshly baked cookies to end 2022 and start the new year on a sweet note.
 
From my niece Courtney:
Almond cookies
2 sticks unsalted butter – softened
1 cup sugar
1 egg
2 1/2 cups flour
2 tsp almond extract
 
Beat butter and sugar for 2-3 minutes. Add egg, flour, and almond extract.
Roll into small balls (around 1/2 tablespoon) and flatten with a fork. Please put on an ungreased cookie sheet.
Bake for 10-12 minutes at 350 degrees. Cookies should still be soft and look undercooked. Let them sit on the tray for a few minutes.  Chocolate Chip Cookies
2 cups + 2 tablespoons flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
12 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 egg
1 egg yolk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Any amount of dark chocolate (bittersweet) chips (I use Ghiradelli or Godiva)
 
Preheat oven to 325.
Mix flour, baking soda, salt. Set aside.
Beat butter and sugars on medium speed for 2-3 minutes.
Beat in egg, yolk, and vanilla.
Add in dry ingredients and beat until combined.
Stir in chocolate chips.
Form balls of around 1-2 tablespoons and place on an ungreased cookie sheet.
 
Bake 15 minutes. DO NOT OVERBAKE. The cookies will look somewhat raw when they come out. Let them cool on the baking sheets.

 From my best buddy Gloria:
Snickerdoodles
½ C unsalted butter, softened
½ C. granulated sugar
1/3 C light brown sugar
I egg
½ teaspoon vanilla
1 ½ cups flour
¼ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon cream f tartar
 
Topping:
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
 
Directions;
In a large bowl, cream together butter and sugar at high speed
Add egg, vanilla and beat until smooth
 
In another bowl, combine flour, salt, baking soda and cream of tartar
Pour dry ingredients into wet ingredients and mix well
 
Preheat oven to 300 degrees while letting dough rest 30 to 60 minutes in the refrigerator
 
In a small bowl combine topping.
 
Take about 2 ½ tablespoons of dough and roll into a ball. Roll this dough in cinnamon and sugar mixture and press into greased cookie sheet.
 
Bake 10-12 minutes, no more.
Cookies may seem undercooked but will develop.

Happy baking.
Happy eating.
Happy New Year.
 
And Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor

What Happens When We Don’t Get What We Need?

The holidays bring families together who live far apart. Laughter rings out through our homes. Joyous toasts are made. Connections strengthened. Bonds solidified once again – whether we are lighting yet another Chanukah candle or gazing with wonder at the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree – or like so many in today’s world – doing both.
 
It’s that time of year. Family rituals and traditions are repeated – a backdrop of warmth and bonhomie permeates each moment. We are surrounded by people whose infectious laughs warm our hearts and whose brilliant smiles foster deep contentment within us. And, in the rare interludes of calm and quiet, our friends and family will often cast-off their habitual one up-manship banter and listen patiently to our own corners of pain and frustration without iterating their own.
 
But what happens when the holidays are a time primarily of sadness and loss? Dashed expectations? Feelings of disconnection and irrelevancy? What happens when a smile on our faces just won’t materialize? And when there aren’t a coterie of supportive people enveloping us in a circle of love and hope?
 
Fortunately, there are many who have come before us to light the way through the tunnel of despair. For all those who approach the holiday season with some trepidation and sadness, you are not alone.
 
Jan Richardson who is an artist, poet and ordained minister, lost her husband quite suddenly in 2013 after only a few years of marriage. 

Singer/songwriter Garrison Doles was both Jan’s marriage partner and creative partner and in the aftermath of her loss, Jan wrote extensively about the terrain of grief.  And what she discovered is that “hope has proven to be wildly stubborn.”
 
Amidst the chaos of the world today, that line is worth noting – as is this poem she composed entitled “Serendipity Corner.”
 
To all that is chaotic in you,
Let there come silence.
Let there be a calming
Of the clamoring,
A stilling of the voices that
Have laid their claim on you, that have made their
Home in you, that go with you even to the 
Holy places but will not
Let you rest, will not let you
Hear your life with wholeness
Or feel the grace that fashioned you.
Let what distracts you cease.
Let what divides you cease.
Let there come an end
To what diminishes and demeans,
And let depart all that keeps you
In its cage. Let there be
An opening into the quiet
That lies beneath
The chaos, where you find
The peace 
You did not think 
Possible
And see what shimmers
Within the storm.
 
I get the feeling what Jan Richardson is espousing is that in spite of being thrown at times into the isolating silos of heartbreak, grief, loneliness and despair, the healing power of hope encourages us to live life to its fullest.
 
Happy Holidays and Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
 
Iris Ruth Pastor
 
PS For further readings, check out the rich array of books written by Jan Richardson. One in particular caught my eye:

Life Got in the Way

Sometimes life just gets in the way 
of putting out my newsletter.
Sometimes things have to get worse
before they can ever get better.
 
This time it was a meniscus tear
in my right knee
from dancing 4 hours straight in high heels
like I was still 23!
 
Pain, swelling, throbbing 
followed the procedure.
A little disorientation, 
A little bit of fever.
 
And extended loopiness 
stemming from the meds
prevented me from getting comfortable 
even in my very own king-size bed.
 
Blankets kicked off, 
amidst pillows galore –
sometimes on the couch,
sometimes on the floor.
 
So, I will pass this week
on spewing forth my musings
because, due to the pain killers, 
they’d be way too confusing.
 
I’ll be back next week,
hopefully fully revived,
as proof of another 
health hurdle survived.
 
Ah, the joys of aging!
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
 
Iris Ruth Pastor

A Stunning Surprise

It all started with a white ceramic piggy bank in the shape of a baseball – filled with masses of pennies – that my five-year-old grandson wanted to lug back to Connecticut.

Of course, I said “Yes.”

In the confusion of packing up a five-year-old, a two-year-old and an infant, the piggy bank was forgotten by Levi’s parents.

I vowed to bring it with me the next time I visited them.

Of course, being illogical, I never reckoned with the fact of the sheer bulk of the bank and its weight.

The only suitcase I trusted to haul this irreplaceable wonder was my carry-on computer bag. After tugging mightily on the zipper in the middle compartment, it barely closed around the bulky bank.

The first hurdle was getting through airport security. My bag was flagged, unzipped and searched. The rubber seal on the bank’s bottom was pried loose from the body of the bank by a stern security guard, who softened considerably after I told him my long tale of why I was schlepping this bulky bank in the shape of a baseball to begin with.

The next hurdle came when I had to lift my computer case above my seat into the overhead compartment. I looked around for a nice man to help me, but none were in sight.

My eyes locked with a young woman sitting two rows back and I smiled at her as I struggled. Sensing my battle, she immediately jumped up and as I held the overhead compartment door down, she slid my bag in. I thanked her profusely. She smiled broadly and sat back down.

The flight was uneventful. Upon landing, everyone got up quickly to stand in the exit row. I noticed my helper, who had already stood up and was by that time a few rows ahead of me in the aisle. I waved goodbye. To my astonishment, she wound her way back to me, pulled down the overhead bin door and lifted my bag out and onto the floor. And then she swiftly resumed her place a few rows in front of me.

So taken with her kind actions, I was determined to thank her in some way for her consideration. As luck would have it, she was animatedly conversing in Spanish with a gate attendant when I alighted.

Immediately I rushed up to her and began explaining that I noticed she was wearing a jean jacket and I sell jean jackets with appliques and if she would give me her name and address, I’d like to send her one – as a token of my appreciation.

She looked at me blankly.

It was then I realized she spoke no English.

The bilingual airport attendant came to our rescue – facilitating a connection. Minutes later, the young woman’s sister had texted me in English – not only her temporary address and full name, but the following:

“My sister just came to the United States from the Dominican Republic two weeks ago and is trying out different places to live to see what she likes. She wants to experience snow and we keep telling her, ‘You’re crazy – nothing beats Florida living,’ but she will have to figure that out on her own.”

Here’s my point: this young woman may not have figured out WHERE to live, but she has certainly figured out HOW to live – with kindness.

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

Iris Ruth Pastor

Trying to be THE MATRIARCH

I looked around the Thanksgiving table. There were three generations of us ranging in age from 3 months to 75 years. I was the 75 year-old – the most elderly in the room. Certainly not the most mature, nor the most logical nor the most observant. But definitely the OLDEST.
 
As usual, there was a big crowd and as usual, I was the person connected most closely with everyone there. So, I guess that makes me THE MATRIARCH. 
 
Naturally, being hit by that obvious revelation, I decided to find out exactly what this status confers on me.
 
The definition of a matriarch is pretty straight forward:
It’s an older woman who is the head of a family, clan or tribe. And Powerful. 
 
In earlier times, female matriarchs led the family to safety, food, and water. And she nurtured the babies, disciplined the teens, provided wisdom for her entire family, and made all the important decisions. That is obviously a VERY obsolete definition. And one in which I am quite deficient. I don’t regularly and expertly wield a knife to spur off attackers, have never ordered from Uber Eats and always seem to have the least popular brand of fizzy water in my refrigerator when my kids and their families come over. In addition, I’m not so sure my five sons and three daughters-in-law would be thrilled with me usurping their power.
 
Life Coach Jamie Metz came to my rescue. She iterates that “MATRIARCHY IS NOT ABOUT DOING the heavy lifting work of a mother or about nurturing and meeting the physical needs of another human on a daily basis.” Whew!
 
She also remarks that it’s not about “needing to be needed!” and that matriarchs are “people that love quietly and unconditionally, without competing for attention or needing anything in return.” Oy. That’s a very tall order for someone like me who craves recognition and acknowledgement pretty regularly. (Just ask my offspring!)
 
As far as the matriarchal role where my experience, wisdom, awareness, and compassion is needed to solve complex or sensitive issues involving human beings and their welfare? I think the general consensus in my family would be a resounding: “Keep Mom out of this. The less she knows the better…she’ll only complicate things.”So I definitely welcomed Jamie’s 10 straight forward and important pointers on being an effective MATRIARCH of ADULTS who are important to you:
Be a good listener. 

Don’t give advice. 

Don’t do the work and don’t solve the problem for them. 

Let them know that they are important to you, without being overwhelming. 

Show up! consistently be at important events. when there, be happy!

Enjoy yourself. no drama! no gossip! 

Respect their choices and don’t repeat personal things they tell you to anyone. 

They may never need you. just being available to them might be more powerful than you know. 

Don’t underestimate your importance. love them. 

Remember it’s a long game. long as in decades! so be patient and stay subtly and wisely focused.
 
It’s very, very, very lucky that I have decades in this “long game” because I’ve got a lot of work to do to become an “effective” matriarch.
 
John Cappello, who is an award winning psychic medium and intuitive healer, also wrote about the ten traits of an effective matriarch. That list almost propelled straight to the bar for a very strong and very dirty Martini. 
 
Here is his list: wise, empathic, loyal, flexible, consistent, predictable, simple, spiritual, positive, confident, honest, steps up to the plate when needed AND knows her place.
 
Conservatively speaking, of his 13 descriptions of the ideal matriarch, I respectfully and modestly submit I possess seven – though again I’m sure my offspring would respectfully and vehemently disagree and just possibly gently hint that I am once again overestimating my lofty estimation of my worth. 
 
I’m not so sure I’m fully embracing this matriarch concept. I whole heartedly agree that an ideal matriarch should be acting in the best interest of the family. But let’s face it: opinions vary on just what “best interests” look like. And not surprisingly, on this, my boys would heartily agree with me.
 
However, there is still hope for me. Cappella also goes on to say that matriarchs aren’t perfect (thank goodness) and reach the level of matriarch because of their best traits. Thank goodness. I still have a fighting chance.
 
In the meantime, let’s all Preserve Our Blooms,
 
Iris Ruth Pastor 
 
PS: 
What qualifies YOU as the matriarch of your family?
 

Weak Ties Impact Us More Than We Realize

Weak Ties can open up new vistas of opportunity for us: 

Mark Granovetter is an American sociologist and professor at Stanford and is best known for his work in economic sociology.  His Weak Tie theory is that acquaintances are likely to be more influential than close friends, particularly in social networks. He surveyed 282 Boston-based workers and found that most of them got their jobs through someone they knew. But only a minority got the job through a close friend; 84% got their job through those weak-tie relationships – meaning casual contacts whom they saw only occasionally. 
 
Office design is also impacted by Weak Tie theory. From the internet I learned the following: Steve Jobs oversaw the design of the Pixar building in order to generate serendipitous meetings among employees from different departments. The building has a large central hall through which all employees have to pass several times a day. Jobs wanted colleagues to bump into each other, grab coffee and shoot the breeze. He believed in the power of these seemingly random conversations to fire up creativity.
 
Weak ties have an effect when losing a loved one to:

Below is a picture of my late mother and me. Click on the link to hear my reaction to losing her – illustrating that Weak Ties have an effect when losing a loved one too.
 

https://archive.org/details/podcast_preserving-your-bloom-with-ir_losing-my-mother_1000407295306
 
Weak ties can distract ourselves from weariness: 
 
Here is a column I wrote in April, 2014 illustrating this point. It was written when my husband was going through a debilitating health crisis. I was so tired – looking for diversion from the daily grind. Surprisingly, I found it from a Weak Tie. 
Tree Care as a Metaphor for Self-Care                  
The days drag on. My husband remains in convalescent mode. Well-meaning friends pull me aside to tell me I look tired. Bone tired. No kidding?
 
I try to distract myself from the weariness. 
 
Diversion and direction come from an unexpected source: a tall, middle-aged husky fellow with a full beard, attired in flannel shirt, ripped jeans, combat boots and a straw cowboy hat which is perched precariously on his head. He came knocking on my door and convinced me that my grand oaks were in need of his services. I was an easy sell. We’ve lived here eight years – all without maintaining those majestic wonders.
 
I check out his credentials and give the go-ahead.
 
While his crew spends six hours re-invigorating my trees – pruning, trimming, cutting, and fertilizing – he educates me on the proper care of these living organisms. 
 
He points out a tree trunk with a lost limb. “Long ago,” he notes, “this limb had been removed properly,” he remarks. “It was causing undue stress on the rest of the tree. Because this limb has been removed properly, the tree will completely heal and close around the wound. If the scar does not heal properly, water sets in the cavity and, after a time, will slowly rot the inside of the trunk.” 
 
He looks at me intently. “It’s okay to have scars. They just must heal properly.”
 
“Look up at the canopy of limbs overhead,” he instructs me. “It’s important to clean out the sucker limbs so that the wind can blow freely through and the tree won’t topple when in the eye of a storm. Suckers catch the wind and take nutrients from the rest of the tree, especially the tree tops.” 
 
He looks at me intently. “It’s okay to allow for some hanger-ons, but too many suckers use up the nutrients and then the tree begins to die from the top down.” 
 
“One more thing,” he tosses over his shoulder as he climbs into the cab of his truck. “The size of the canopy gives a suggestion of the size of the tree’s surface roots. Take care of the roots – they are reputed to hold all the tree’s strength.”
 
I head back to my husband’s rehab room refreshed, energized and more hopeful than I have felt in days. Trees are living organisms who naturally know how to survive. We humans should take a few clues and cues from them:
      Allow ourselves to heal from within, not with a quick outer fix
     Shed the excess baggage to lighten our load
     Honor and draw strength from our roots – the part of us that holds our power and potency 
 
And don’t be reluctant to take advice from a weathered,  bearded arborist who draws beautiful metaphors between caring for trees and surviving life’s perils.
 
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
 
Iris Ruth Pastor

What Fosters our Sense of Connection and Costs Absolutely Nothing?

I couldn’t understand why my mood shifts substantially north when the bag boy at my neighborhood grocery gives me his habitual “Hi Five” and over exaggerated wink while placing my perishables in a paper bag.
  
Or why my step lightens when, driving down my street on my way to run errands, I spot my mailman’s truck and he waves and I honk. 
Or why I’m flooded with happiness when the lady down the street laughs when I pass her by on my daily walk and casually remark to her that she has an open invitation to come to my house and re-pot my root-bound flowers too. 
  
The above scenarios foster our sense of connection and cost us absolutely nothing. 
 
But what exactly are these interactions? And why are they so important?
They are: Weak Ties
 
Devin Soni in an article called “The Power of Weak Ties,” said, “These are ties between people that know each other, but not particularly well. In real-world terms, these are the people that you interact with once a month, whom you probably do not see very often. You may not have much in common with your weak ties, and most of your weak ties will not know each other. 
 
Weak Ties are loose connections, often fleeting in time. 
 
They make us happier than we think and matter more than we realize. 
They expand our sense of well-being.
They provide connection.
They increase our sense of meaning and our sense of security.
They provide joy.
They reduce our feeling of loneliness.
 
When we get out of our social bubble of close contacts, we  experience the world through an additional lens – a lens that is unfamiliar, uncontrollable and untapped.  
 
We usually know what we can expect behaviorally from our friends and family, but don’t know how we will be received by strangers. When this encounter is pleasant, repeated, and consistent, we derive a renewed sense of affirmation about ourselves and a sense of security about the outer world itself. Think about the pleasant encounter you have had with the gal or guy behind the counter at your neighborhood coffee bistro, or a member of your hot yoga class, or the pharmacist at your corner drugstore. 
 
These are not meaningless interactions. Loneliness and a sense of isolation are pervasive. And the headlines are filled with violence, incivility and unrest: 
      Nicole Leaves a Coastline in Chaos
      Identification Policies Leave Transgender People Sterile
      Russian Missiles Cross into Poland During Strike on Ukraine
 
Casual acquaintances both foster a sense of belonging and give our happiness quotient a positive boost – helping us withstand the onslaught of negative emotions and bad news.
 
Think:
        Brief chats
        A joke exchange
        A smile 
        A thumbs-up
        A wink and nod
        A friendly smile 
        A bit of casual conversation
 
The holidays are coming up. Families will be getting together for Thanksgiving. Often our conversations with people we share blood with can be emotionally taxing. But Weak Tie relationships? They are often transactional. They are often easier because they are less demanding. And they are often with people we know less well – making the stakes lower.
 
Let’s be thankful for our close circle of family and friends – which is essential for our well-being and sense of community. But let’s also be mindful of the riches we can gather from the Weak Ties we both cultivate and nourish. 
 
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
 
Iris Ruth Pastor
 
Next week I’ll further explore the topic of Weak Ties:
I’ll illustrate how Weak Ties can open up new vistas of opportunity for us. 

In the meantime, e mail me some examples of Weak Ties in your life and the influence they have had

Am I Really Too Old To Do Cartwheels?

When I was about three years old, my mom enrolled me in dance class.  At ballet, I was graceless. At tap, I was rhythm challenged. But at acrobatics, I excelled. It wasn’t long until I was doing handstands, somersaults, back bends and cartwheels all over the place.
 
By age eight, I had a routine down pat. One hundred cartwheels a day – no matter what. In winter, I did them next to the washer and dryer in our dank, dark basement. (I was banned from the living room after crashing into the cocktail table and breaking a lamp.) In spring, summer and fall, I cartwheeled up and down our blacktop driveway.
 
Though I try, I can’t remember when I stopped doing my 100 cartwheels a day. Somewhere around the time I discovered boys, make-up and the telephone, I suppose. But even with the passing of years, I continued to counter my self-dramatizing mood swings with a modified routine of cartwheel capering at sporadic intervals.
 
Shortly after each one of my sons mastered walking without tottering, I would demonstrate my cartwheel prowess. They were not the least bit enthralled.  But my bowling team thought it was a pretty cool move for someone in their 30’s. And so did the elementary school board moms when, at the close of our monthly meeting, I hopped up and shot off a few at the age of forty-two. I fantasized that they too clambered to shed their yuppie shackles and follow me down the yellow brick road – all the while doing cartwheels too. Who knows maybe we could have had a “cartwheelathon” and raised money for a worthy cause if I had pushed my agenda a tad harder? 
 
Then I turned fifty-four – the age when time meets reality. And it’s been a long time since I’ve done a cartwheel. 
 
Can I still do it?