Iris Ruth Pastor's Blog, page 2

Baseball’s Life Lessons

My favorite person to go to a professional baseball game with is my husband.
Having played college baseball, he teaches me all the finer points of the game – which make watching it a much richer experience. And he provides me with “color commentary” which includes things like past historical feats of some of the players we are avidly watching, entertaining anecdotes and his own personal insights. 
His gems of wisdom following each new facet of professional baseball always strike me as useful.
For instance, who knew a pitcher could throw so many different types of pitches?
     Sliders     
     Sinkers
     Cutters 
     Sweepers 
     Four-seam SB and 
     Change Ups
And at such variance of speeds: from 70 to over 100 MPH.

“See Iris,” my husband says, “there are many ways to approach a specific situation in life and with varying degrees of speed and intensity. If you are in charge, keep them guessing.”

He reminds me not only to watch the speed of the opposing pitcher and the type of pitch he throws, but to heed the bigger picture:

How many pitches has the pitcher on the mound thrown thus far in the game?How many strikes? How many balls?Does he throw right or left-handed?What type of pitcher is he? Starter? Relief?Closer?

“See Iris,” he points out, “you need to thoroughly know who you are up against and both what his repertoire and role is.”

And then there are all those acronyms, such as:
OBP – On-Base Percentage. It’s a statistic that measures how frequently a batter reaches base by any means, including hits, walks and being hit by a pitch. 
SLG – Slugging Percentage is a statistic that measures a hitter’s power by calculating the average number of bases a batter reaches per at-bat.
WHIP – Walks and Hits per Inning Pitched is a measure of how many base runners a pitcher allows per inning.
ERA – Earned Run Average is the average number of earned runs a pitcher allows over nine innings.

“See, Iris,” my husband reminds me, “it’s not enough to just study the competition, you have to make use of all accessible information so you can sharpen your own game plan.”

At the beginning of each game, we may still be sitting in the dining area finishing up a pre-game hot dog and Coke. Or we may still be hunting for our seats. Or we may already be in the stands chatting quietly with other nearby fans. No matter. As soon as the first strands of our national anthem, “The Star-Spangled Banner” rings out, we immediately cease what we are doing. We rise. We place our left hand over our hearts. And we sing out loudly and proudly. 

And on this, my husband doesn’t have to instruct me at all. Pride in our country is a given.

And when the Reds start trailing the visiting team, my husband relates the following: 
It’s 2004 and the Boston Red Sox have lost three straight games to the New York Yankees in a best-of-seven series to clinch the American League Championship. Unbelievably, the Red Sox win the next four games and advance to the World Series. In game 4 of the World Series, the Red Sox are down 3-0 in the eighth inning. A pivotal home run by David Ortiz culminates in the Red Sox winning the World Series which breaks an 86-year championship drought for the Boston Red Sox.

As Steven tells me, “Iris, never lose hope. It’s not over ‘til it’s over.”

His gems of wisdom following each new facet of professional baseball always strike me as useful.

I was in the stands July 8, 2023 when Cincinnati Reds rookie shortstop Elly De La Cruz, known for his exceptional speed and athleticism, stole first base and second base. Then, with the Milwaukee Brewers pitcher preoccupied, De La Cruz stole third base as well. When the pitcher was walking back to the mound, De La Cruz took off for home and slid in safely. Stealing second, third and home in the span of three pitches was a feat which hadn’t been witnessed since 1961. 

“See, Iris,” my husband earnestly entreats me, “always keep your eye out for the extraordinary.”

And my bit of advice: Roots are roots. And no matter how great or how dismal their record, always root for your “home team.”

And Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

PS: My husband and I were in the stands last night when the Cincinnati Reds played the Atlanta Braves. In the top of the eighth inning, the Braves had the audacity to score EIGHT RUNS – breaking a 3-3 tied ballgame.

My husband was totally disgruntled and implored me to leave the game as there was little chance of a Red’s win. I reluctantly – very reluctantly – agreed and gathered up my purse and half-eaten bag of peanuts. We headed home – causally turning on the radio to listen to what we perceived would be a very heartbreaking end for the Reds as we headed down I-75 North.

It was heartbreaking, but not in the way we anticipated. 

The Cincinnati Reds came back in the bottom half of the eighth inning to score EIGHT RUNS too!

The game was tied at 11 to 11 and we were listening to it on the RADIO; not watching it in the stands surrounded by wildly cheering fans. I was livid.

The Reds ended up losing in extra innings by one run. That was okay because they played with gusto and determination.

What did I learn? My husband knows a lot about baseball, but not even he can predict when the extraordinary will happen. 

And I am never leaving a game early again.

A Deeper Look into a Familiar Thing

Most of you probably know by now The Story: I started an up-cyled jean jacket business when my best buddy sent me a jean jacket for my 75th birthday. It wasn’t just ANY jean jacket – my jean jacket was emblazoned on the back with a massive sequined hamsa.

That was three years ago and, since then, I’ve been embellishing gently worn jean jackets with a plethora of designs: butterflies, hearts, pirates, evil eyes, and roses. My most favorite, however, is the HAMSA. What a rich and expansive history this object has – spanning cultures, contexts and religions. 

Hamsas are known by two other names too: the Hand of Miriam and the Hand of Fatima. A Middle Eastern and North African symbol, it is primarily considered a protective device to ward off the “evil eye.” However, it is also thought to bring not only good luck, but happiness, to the wearer.

So captivating do I find these amulets that not only do I hunt for them, buy them, covet them and wear them, but I hang hamsas all over my home. Often accompanied by this prayer, hamsas focus on themes of protection, love and harmony within the household. And who doesn’t need that?

Hamsa Home Prayer“May this hamsa be a source of protection and blessing for our home,  
Shielding us from harm and negativity,  
Filling our space with love, joy, and peace.  
May our family be united in understanding and support, 
Nurturing each other with kindness and compassion. 
May laughter and happiness echo within these walls, 
And may we find comfort and refuge in each other’s presence.  
As we gather here, may we be blessed with health and prosperity,  
Guided by this hamsa to create a sanctuary of love. 
With gratitude for our shared moments,  
We invite blessings to flow freely in our home.”

Less well known is the Hamsa Workplace Prayer – a prayer that hangs in a job setting – often focusing on themes of success, harmony and protection in professional endeavors and promoting mutual support. 

Hamsa Workplace Prayer“May this hamsa be a shield of protection in our workplace, guarding us against negativity and obstacles.  
May it bring blessings of success, creativity, and collaboration to our efforts.  
May we work together in harmony, fostering respect and support among colleagues.  
May our endeavors flourish, leading to growth and prosperity for all.  
May we find joy and fulfillment in our work, and may our contributions make a positive impact.  
With gratitude for the opportunities we have, let this hamsa guide us on our path to success.”And if you are wearing a hamsa?
Not only does it protect you from the “evil eye” but also from negative energies and harmful ill intentions. 
It provides strength during difficult times.
It symbolizes a desire for peace and unity.
It attracts good luck and positive vibes.
It enhances spiritual awareness.

Hamsas hang in my bedroom, my living room, my front hall, dining room and gazebo. 
     Who can resist a hamsa?
     Or for that matter, a jean jacket?

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

A Letter to my Five Sons

July 14, 2025
9:28 PM

Dear Harry, Frank, Max, Sam and Louie, 

My 78th birthday is fast approaching, hence this letter.

When I look back at the many things I have experienced in life, I am filled with such gratitude for the opportunities for adventure and engagement and challenge that have come my way:

My weekly column, which began 38 years agoMy stint as the managing editor of my hometown Jewish newspaper, The American IsraeliteMy radio show – Sunday Nights with IrisMy two books: Slices, Bites and Other Facts of Life with your grandmother and The Secret Life of a Weight Obsessed Woman My motivational speaking career And, at present, my forming a company, PYB LLC, to upcycle jean jackets for both funky and not-so-funky women

BUT, of all the many hats I have worn, none has consistently provided me with more pride, more joy and more sheer pleasure (and more angst and more aggravation and more worry!) than raising the five of you. 

I have closely watched each of you dig deep to mine your potential, face challenges that could have easily shattered others and, in doing so, methodically carve-out your own individual path. You have worked diligently, hard and smart. And, in the process, you have matured into men that any mother – anywhere – would be proud of.

I ‘d like to take ALL the credit for the fine men you have become, but that is not possible. Throughout your formative years, you were molded, influenced, guided and mentored by a plethora of wise, kind and remarkably scrappy people – your fathers, your grandparents, your aunts, your uncles, your cousins and, of course, each other. (However, I do take some credit, you can be sure!)

On this birthday, I am making you a promise that I will continue to do all in my power to remain healthy, vital, engaged and independent. You are all way too busy to be dealing with caring for me. 

In return, however, I am asking each of you to do two things for me on my birthday: 

Please write me a note about something I don’t know about you – maybe an experience that you had, maybe a dream you hold close, maybe a philosophy that resonates with you or a quote that inspires you. And send it! Please take an intention that you have not followed through on and put in the time, thought and effort to set it in motion and keep it going. Please pick something that will enhance either your physical, emotional or mental health. And please share your Good Intention Journey with me.

Many kisses, massive hugs and much love,

PS: I apologize for not being the greatest cook, never learning how to iron and, at times, being maddeningly illogical. 

PSS: I am sending each of you a copy of this letter in the mail because I know most of you rarely read my newsletter.  

Joy in the Little Things

BEFORE you start reading this column, answer these two questions:

Where are you?And how many other things are you planning on doing while you read this week’s column?

IF, before beginning to read this week’s column, 
you have poured yourself a glass of wine or brewed yourself a cup of coffee,
if you have sought out a favorite spot in your house to sit,
if you have lit a scented candle,
if you have leisurely gazed around at your surroundings and felt appreciative for what you have,
you are on the right track to finding joy in the little things and the little moments.

And I commend you.

On the other hand, if you are going to read this while you empty the dishwasher, when you are stopped at a traffic light, at the same time you berate your kid or while making a grocery list, I urge you to read the rest of this column in one quiet setting NOW.

These are not random questions.  

If you are a regular reader of my weekly musings, think about where, when and how you read it. Do you sandwich it in between other tasks or give yourself an enjoyable pause in your routine to fully enjoy the experience? 

How we go about the dailiness of our lives – the small moments that comprise our day – says a great deal about how we live our lives. How we go through our day is how we go through our life. 

I used to write a 900-word column. Now my norm hovers at 600 words. Why? Because our attention spans are getting shorter and shorter as is our ability to sustain prolonged concentration.

I’m as guilty as you are. I skim through articles in The New York Times – articles I should be reading in depth in order to gain more nuanced knowledge of pivotal world events. And even when I do find something vastly enjoyable to read and not intellectually over-challenging, I usually peruse it while leaning against my kitchen counter, sipping a lukewarm cup of coffee – rather than STOPPING and putting in the energy to indulge fully in a moment of leisure.

Why? 
Because I am hyper focused on productivity – on completing my ridiculously long to-do list every day and equating my self-worth with the level of my output.

What happened to bygone days?
My family on weekends would jump in the car simply to “go for a ride” or to visit nearby relatives and sit on their front porch, enjoying meandering, inconsequential chats with each other.

My mother’s favorite magazine was Redbook – but not for the fashion trends or guidance on homemaking and recipes. Her pleasure emanated from Redbook’s short stories. 

I ask you: when was the last time you read a short story just for sheer pleasure?

Every morning, I wake-up faced with a long to-do list. I rush through the list – hoping to finish it. But as fast as I cross something off, something else replaces it.  

I never finish it.

Why can’t we approach each task with the attitude of making it as pleasant as possible? 

Twenty minutes of physical therapy to strengthen my core and hips is how I start my day. I usually run through the set of exercises as quickly as possible – not really concentrating on tightening my muscles as I gyrate around. This morning, before commencing, I took the time to light a candle, turn on some classical violin music on Pandora and center my mind on being fully present for each extended movement. 

And when it was over? I felt like I had accomplished something noteworthy: I performed my morning routine more effectively and I savored doing it. 

For those of us laser-focused on PRODUCTIVITY, think about this:  
THE BIGGEST WASTE OF TIME IS NOT LIVING IN THE MOMENT.

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

Yearning for the “Swinging” Life

One thing we all hear nowadays is that if we want to find balance and calm in our lives – we need to look inward. That, we are preached at, is the kind of happiness that matters. 

I get that mindset. It’s probably why I go to yoga three times a week – to reduce stress and anxiety, to enhance my moods and promote a positive outlook on life.

And yet, we find joy constantly in the material world too.

Every hour of every day, the mundane objects and spaces that we interact with can also vastly affect our mood and outlook.

For instance, a dirty computer keyboard elicits immediate irritation when I sit down in front of my computer. A clean one – free of debris, crumbs and dirt particles – elicits a sense of peace. 

Every time I walk into my master bedroom, I am grossed out by the dirt and grime which has accumulated on our wall-to-wall ivory carpeting. I keep reminding myself that as soon as our new puppy is trained, we can get it professionally cleaned. Still, it depresses me.

I can’t stand a bunch of random papers on my kitchen counter and the jumbled-up mess in my linen closet.

On the other hand, the arrangement of richly purple silk flowers in my guest room fills me with sunny thoughts. The new way I arranged my non-fiction books in my library is soul-satisfying. Looking at my grandmother’s teacups neatly lined up in a glass cabinet off my kitchen soars my spirits. 

We shouldn’t feel guilty when we put effort into enhancing the beauty of our surroundings. It is not a frivolous indulgence. We shouldn’t be made to feel shallow or overly materialistic because we put effort into the aesthetics. (Aesthetics deal with the nature of beauty and encompasses visual appeal and its emotional impact.)

“Joy is a momentary and intense experience of positive emotion,” so says author Ingrid Fetell Lee in her book Joyful. 

“Joy,” Lee says, “can be recognized by certain telltale signs: smiling, laughing, and a feeling of wanting to jump up and down.”

Who doesn’t want more of that twirling, giggling and exuberant emotions in our lives?

How to incorporate into our external environments those things that elicit such joy? 

Here’s some wisdom from Ingrid Fetell Lee:

Utilize bright and vibrant colors: they stir us out of complacency like a shot of caffeine. Color pulls joy to the surface.

Work near a window and spend time in nature: this  increases our exposure to daylight, which in turn reduces blood pressure, promotes higher energy levels, and can even lengthen life span.

Mix different variations of light – keeping in mind that the brightest places are where people will tend to congregate so adapt accordingly. (Lee recommends choosing light bulbs with a Coloring Rendering Index (CRI) of 100.)

Decrease the volume of furniture – smaller furniture  creates more negative space – thus allowing more freedom of movement.

Swing – one of my sons has a full-size swing in his basement for his kids. Every time I visit, I creep down into the basement and push-off – going higher and higher – feeling less and less constrained – and more and more rejuvenated. 

After my last visit, I return home, lamenting the fact I don’t have a basement. I begin looking around my small and compact yard, taking note of my huge, over-hanging oak trees. 

“Where could I put a swing?” I wonder. “Roped around one of those branches perhaps?”

It becomes apparent that the only space that will work on my corner lot is in my front yard – a front yard which has clear visual proximity to a very busy street.

Would I look ridiculous – a 77 year-old crone – swinging wildly in her front yard??????
Probably.

But it’s not going to stop me from my continuous quest for JOY!Keep Preserving Your Bloom, 
Fully Enjoy the Fourth of July and 
Don’t Miss Those Spectacular Fireworks,

Cheesy and Predictable or Richly Soul Satisfying?

I’m driving home at 5 in the afternoon from a series of irritating errands – dropping off a favorite blouse at the dry cleaners that I have once again stained – picking up a lush and heavily verdant basil plant at the nursery to replace the one I over watered and killed. 

At the same time, I’m kinda ruminating about The Sopranos – a series I have been feverishly binge watching again for the last three weeks. I am enthralled with Tony Soprano’s wife Carmela – played by Edie Falco. I am fascinated by how Carmela vocalizes strong disapproval for Tony’s criminal lifestyle, often expressing a desire for a more conventional existence. At the same time, she fully enjoys the trappings of his success, his power base, the material benefits afforded her and her financial security. 

And, at the same time I’m ruminating over Carmela’s reactions, I’m kinda half listening to a segment on NPR’s “Florida Matters” when the phrase “Steamy Lit” catches my attention.

What in the heck is Steamy Lit?

Steamy Lit is a type of story that features romantic or erotic themes, has intense emotional connections, provocative storylines and explicitly sexual content. And that’s not all: Steamy Lit prioritizes passionate relationships, sensual experiences and intimate encounters between characters.

I’m starting to squirm. I turn up the volume and fine tune my hearing aids.  

Apparently, unbeknownst to myself, there is a store almost within walking distance of my house bearing that same name: Steamy Lit. I make a reckless U turn, double back the way I had just come, and quickly pull up to the store front. I snap a quick picture, vowing to come back soon for a visit.

In the meantime, I start researching romance genre in general.

In the 1990’s, I had a face-to-face interview with American author Nora Roberts, who has written more than 225 novels, including many in the romance arena. She assured me that every book she had published or would publish would always have a happy ending. 

There is a plethora of dramatic headlines since Covid – most  portending doom and gloom. In conjunction with this fact, the sales of romance novels has been surging. Many attribute this to people’s  desire for escapism, particularly during times like this – when the world is riddled with stress, violence and  uncertainty. It’s no wonder: romance novels guarantee happy endings – which in turn provide comfort and reassurance to readers.

Another contributing factor to the growing popularity of romance novels is the influence of social media platforms like TikTok. Tik Tok showcases book recommendations, allows authors to actively share their insights, fosters a sense of community among romance readers and is credited for promoting wide breadth of romance subgenres including LGBTQ+. Story lines that are inclusive and diverse naturally attract a wider readership.  

Growth is also affected by the prolific numbers of BIPOC authors –Black, Indigenous and People of Color (Asian, Latinx, Middle Eastern  and Pacific Islander) churning out romantic fare.

When I hear the two words “Steamy Lit.”  I immediately conjure up a bodice ripping male and a swooning defenseless female enveloped in an endless circle of sex, romance, intrigue and illicit pleasure. Kinda like this book cover:

Today’s best-selling romance novels are a greater sum of parts than that. These sizzlers incorporate characters who are also dealing with real life challenges – Alzheimer in a parent, loss, second chances, mental health issues, and finding the way back to one another after facing tragedy. They are stories that question belief systems and pre-conceived values and present varied perspectives. They focus not just on heavily rippled bodies and voluptuous body parts, but also character development and growth. 

I remember shame-facedly reading Fifty Shades of Gray by E.L James on a long cross country plane flight  in 2011 – nervously looking around to make sure no one I knew was sitting nearby. Those days are over.

I’m flying out next week. And I’ve got two romance novels carefully packed in my carry-on. I can’t wait to read them both – IN PUBLIC! I’ll let you know if they are Cheesy and Predictable, Richly Soul Satisfying or a little bit of both!

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

“The Lucky Ones”

Two of my eight grandchildren graduated from high school recently. They were both raised in loving homes with food security, ample creature comforts and myriad opportunities to excel at school and to explore their interests outside of school. 

I watched them proudly accept their diplomas, surrounded by loyal friends, loving families and dedicated teachers.

They are “The Lucky Ones”.

My friend, Peggy Friedman, on her Facebook page, shares the following:
On the 14th of November, 1932, in the Polish city of Radom, a baby girl named Celina Gutman was born into the warm arms of her parents. (Her picture is above.)

Radom, located in central Poland, had a thriving Jewish population before World War II. For centuries, families like the Gutmans had lived and loved there, passing down stories, prayers, and melodies from generation to generation.

Celina was a bright, spirited child with a voice that filled every room she entered. From the earliest age, she was drawn to music. 

She loved school, especially choir practice. Her teacher noticed early on that Celina had a pure, clear voice, a soprano tone that seemed to rise like sunlight through the classroom windows. 

Celina’s family lived a modest life. Her father worked in a textile factory; her mother tended the home. 

Celina’s joyful world did not last.

In September 1939, when Celina was six years old, Nazi Germany invaded Poland. The beautiful rhythms of her childhood were shattered by the thunder of war. German soldiers flooded into Radom, and, overnight, everything changed. Jews were forced to register, to wear armbands, to give up their businesses. Families were crammed into ghettos. Food became scarce. Freedom disappeared.

In 1942, the Nazis began to “liquidate” the ghettos as part of their plan to exterminate the Jews of Poland. On August 5, 1942, the Radom Ghetto was raided. Thousands were rounded up and deported to Treblinka, one of the most infamous Nazi death camps. Almost all those sent there were killed within hours of arrival.

Celina was just 10 years old.

We do not know exactly how or when she arrived in Treblinka. We do not know if she cried, if she clung to her mother’s hand, or if she tried to comfort a sibling on that final train. 

And then she was gone. Murdered in a camp built to erase her, by men who saw her not as a child, not as a person, but as something unworthy of life. A little girl with a song in her heart—silenced forever.

I began learning about the Holocaust when my mom bought me a copy of The Diary of Anne Frank. Terror and horror claimed a permanent place in my heart. I simply couldn’t imagine a world where families were forced into hiding due to their religious beliefs. I couldn’t begin to grasp the horror of more than one million children under the age of 16 purposely ripped from their parents’ loving arms, forced into hideous death camps and burned in ovens. 

And for a long time, the Holocaust remained a singular hideous and tragic event. 

Then came more slaughters – the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia, the Rwandan Genocide and the ethnic cleansing in Bosnia. 

Celina’s tragic story became not so unique. Right now – right this minute – so many children worldwide are having their routines brutally disrupted, their lives shattered, their dreams broken, their lives abruptly ended. 

When will it stop?

These are all children who had a favorite stuffed animal and a familiar bedtime ritual. They had dreams and talents and sparkle that are lost to the world forever. They should have grown up sheltered by their family’s love and protection. They should have had a chance to pursue their dreams, marry, pass on their family traditions to their own children. Their lives were stolen; their potential squashed.

When will the bigotry, hatred and carnage stop? 

When will each and every child be one of “The Lucky Ones”?

Keep Preserving Your Bloom, 

Summer, 2000

I get ready for my 35th high school reunion much like I got ready for my 10th reunion – in a hurry with the house a mess.  Dressing while throwing in loads of dirty wash.  Agonizing over my hips. Berating myself for not losing the five pounds I vowed I would lose before the last time I saw these people. Mentally putting my twirling emotions on hold.  Trying on four outfits before I am comfortable about how I look. And still not comfortable. Wondering about who else will be there. And who won’t. And why.

Masses of people mingling. Music blaring. Hugging. So many of us hugging. Squeals of delight. Whispered confessions. Huddles of three. Pushing. Back slapping. Hand holding. Snippets of so many sentences beginning with:

I know you won’t believe this but….Remember when….Does your mom still…I was always afraid to…. You were always… 

So little talk on stocks to buy, candidates to vote for, foreign ports to visit, or new stores to shop.

But this I know to be true:
I judge my high school classmates differently than I judge others. Less harshly. I love them for the very foibles and failings that in others I abhor.

My boyfriend will always be my boyfriend, no matter how long we’ve both been married to someone else.

My best friend will always be my best friend, no matter how many other best friends I have made since graduating from high school in 1965.

My classmates who danced with abandon and delight all night long still do. And the ones who hugged the sidelines watching everyone else laugh and whoop it up, they still do.

We are past boasting.  

Some of us live in our dream houses. Most of us are making do with what we’ve got.  

Some of us had kids and some of us didn’t. And for those that did, some of our high expectations were met and some were lowered.   

How do I sum up a four-year experience that happened with a special group of people so long ago that indelibly shaped me into the person I became, am capable of becoming and sometimes even rise to the occasion to become?

One of my son Sam‘s closest friends said it best when he called from college just hours before my 35th Reunion and I happened to answer the phone: “Life is great,” he confided to me, “but I miss everybody.”

I wrote the above column twenty-five years ago. Soon my husband, Steven, and I will be returning to our hometown to attend our 60th high school reunion. 

What hasn’t changed:
My house is still a mess.
And I’m still trying to lose five pounds.

What has changed:
For sure, there will be far fewer of the 750 members of the graduating class of ’65 at our reunion this time than 25 years ago. And far fewer of us will be dancing than 25 years ago due to various hip, knee and back issues. 

What will always be:
The exquisite feeling of walking into a room filled with people who knew you:

before you got your driver’s license, when you still had a curfew, when you were too young to drink legally and when you took your functioning knees, hips and back for granted. 

These are my people. This is my original tribe. And I cherish each and every one of them.

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

Iris Ruth Pastor

The Endless Joys of Aging

Plagiarism – that dreaded charge that all published writers fear.  
 
Long ago, in the 1980’s, I had lunch with Susan Isaacs, then a best-selling novelist. She confided that she too fears plagiarism’s brute force. To guard against having her brain assaulted with ideas from other novelists, she refrains from reading fiction altogether.
 
I purposely don’t read other slice-of-life columnists. No insidious little thoughts of theirs will crawl silently into my brain as I slumber. If I don’t read them, I can’t inadvertently copy them. I don’t even read their headlines.
 
But I do buy books. And recently, I bought a rollicking little book called 1,003 Great Things About Getting Older. And although the format is mine and some of the entries are mine, I must sadly admit the majority of the following comes from that little gem of a book.
 
Enjoy it anyway. Great thoughts are meant to be shared, as long as they are credited, of course.

If you think aging means:
         Vitamin B 12 shots
         Estrogen Supplements
         Angioplasty
         And Antacid Pills
Think again!

Instead of lamenting youth’s passing, concentrate on the great things about getting older:
         No one asks you anymore how you did on your SAT’s
         You have a profound new respect for your knees
         You no longer have to figure out if “No” means “Yes”
         And you’ll never have to go in-line skating or bungee jumping

If you think aging means:
         Facelifts
         Electrolysis Sites
         Arthritis
         Heartburn and
         Bifocals
Think again.

Instead of lamenting youth’s passing, concentrate on the great things about getting older:
         No more long lustrous hair that gets stuck in everything
         No more admiring glances from the opposite sex that distract you from figuring out which drugstore coupons to use
         No more firm, firm breasts to get in the way of a good night’s sleep – yours or your partner’s
         And you can finally wear a bathing suit with a skirt

If you think aging means:
         Dental Implants
         Mandatory Retirement
         Hearing Aids
         Glaucoma
         And Wrinkles
Thank again.

There are great things about getting older:
         Sagging jowls have made your cheekbones more prominent
         Pimples on your chin are now a badge of vibrancy not a social impediment
         When you travel by plane, a flight attendant will help you put your bag in an overhead compartment
         When you travel by car, people will get out of your way 
         Chances grow smaller every year that you will die in childbirth

If you think aging means:
         Hip Replacements
         Root Canals
         Aching Joints
         Walkers
         And Senility
Think again.

No more:
         Tight braces on your teeth
         Menstrual cramps and training bras
         Breaking-up at the end of the summer
         Freshman mixers
         Matrimonial jitters
         Entry level jobs
         Home pregnancy tests
         Labor pains and midnight feedings

Now that you are a woman of a certain age, you can concentrate on the great things attaining that status affords you:
         Cough drops in lots of colors
         Bubble gum for denture wearers
         No more tedious Christmas shopping ordeals – now you can just write a check
         Assurance that there’s nothing left to learn “the hard way”
         And realizing that adult diapers are kind of convenient
         And other people‘s wisdom can be pretty wise

Finally, on the very personal question of your virginity, at our advanced age you can be perfectly honest without the dire consequences of getting a sordid reputation. Simply reply like the character Maizy did in the Broadway musical “Shucked”: 

“I lost my virginity, but I still have the box it came in.” 
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

Finally – Getting What You Want!

Sometimes I think I live under a rock.
Up until a week ago, I had never heard of Mel Robbins. 
Have you? 
Most probably you have. 

At age 41, she was unemployed, $800,000 in debt and her husband’s business was crumbling. Today she is a New York Times best-selling author and a world-renowned expert on motivation and changing one’s behavior. Her work is translated into 41 languages and her podcast is top rated too. 

Like many of us, she struggled for years with envy, jealousy, fear of change, and being overly sensitive to other’s opinion of her.

How’d she get past all that baggage? She shares her ground-breaking insights in her book Let Them.

Here are some of her most salient points on the path to self-empowerment:
     Let go of things we cannot control
     Allow other people in our lives to take charge of their own destinies and navigate their own challenges, thus abdicating our responsibility for other’s personal happiness.

When faced with a plethora of unpleasant tasks, who wants to get up in the morning? Not me. Probably not you. Not Mel Robbins either. But she did.
     She forced herself out of bed 
     She pushed herself to take action 
     She fought through her fear, self-doubt and myriad excuses 

All this revolves around Mel Robbins LET THEM mantra. It’s all about controlling our own thoughts, actions and responses. It’s all about  letting go of the belief that we can control other’s actions and choices. And it’s all about not letting other people’s behaviors bother us. 

Robbins emphasizes LET THEM is NOT LETTING SOMETHING GO – which implies surrendering to something. Let Them is coming from a well of strength – where we release our grip on how we feel things should go and allow them to unfold the way they will go, thus freeing ourselves to put our energies into our own silo. 

Who can’t relate to life’s aggravations?
     A child who chooses a different career path than what we deem appropriate and wise
     A spouse who doesn’t eat healthy
     A parent who blurts out insults without a filter
     A boss who doesn’t recognize our worth
     A friend who leaves us out of an outing

LET ME is the next step in our personal quest for peace, success and joy. 

LET ME is our taking responsibility for what we do next when confronted with these situations and making it our personal choice to empower ourselves to be the change we want to see. 

It’s hard work to change. It’s accepting the fact that very often life isn’t fair and that many people are dealt better hands than we were. It’s about not being jealous of other’s success but learning from them how they achieved it.

It’s hard work to change. It means showing up every day to do the tasks that are often boring, irritating and uncomfortable. As one of Mel Robbins’ friends, Jeff Walker, who is also a best-selling author, said, “You gotta do ‘the reps.’”

Let’s start right this minute to DO THE REPS!

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

PS: Do you have a “Happy Place”?
A place that fills you with positive energy, warmth and tranquility?
A place where you feel a strong sense of belonging?
A place where so many of your nostalgic memories are stored?

Here is something I’m at least partially up to speed on: CNN at 10 pm on Sundays presents a six-part series on celebrity hosts’ happy places. And it’s titled “Happy Places”!

This Sunday Wolf Blitzer revisits Buffalo, New York – a city for him that is a re-charging sanctuary. I think this program may provide you and me with just that too.