Who Am I?

Years ago, as part of a play he was performing in about homelessness, my dear friend Max wrote a short soliloquy about his lived experience of homelessness.

I am a father, a brother, a son, an uncle, a friend. 
I am a carpenter, a musician, a writer, an artist. 
I laugh. I cry. I bleed. I feel pain. I feel joy. 
Which of these is diminished because I am homeless?

In her comment last night on yesterday’s blog, which reminded me of Max’s words, Iwona wrote,

I am a writer, a quilter, a calligrapher, a photographer.
I am a wife, a friend, a relative, a confidante, a mentor.
These are the qualities and traits that I am proud to acknowledge.
Some may say these are "labels".
Whatever!

And Cristl wrote her manifesto too,

I don’t like labels as I have been called a criminal, homeless, senior and blunt. None fit me as the people I am now. I am a passionate person who believes that every person be treated with dignity and respect. This includes me.

While Nance shared her beautiful insight, as did JoAnne.

Nance wrote,

Somewhere along the line we decide which labels suit us. We can accept labels we agree with, and make our own labels. We can live without labels. We can talk about what we do, without making it who we are.
But some people work very hard to have certain labels. It’s good to think before we label.

And maybe that’s the thing about labels.

I have the power to choose my own. The one’s that work for me. They are not all of me. They are often a reflection of my passions and what’s yearning to be expressed within me.

I do not give others the right to choose them for me. And, while I get that for demographic stats it’s easiest to group people under labels or headings that denote similar attributes, and l understand that labels are convenient for identifying demographic trends and policies that work and policies that need to change to address gaps in public services, I have the power and the choice of determining what the ‘label’ that puts me in a specific group means to me.

I have the power to choose how I live the labels with which I am identified.

I have agency.

Which brings me to my own statement of Who Am I. Because in my agency, I also know that while there are many ‘isms’ I have encountered because of my gender, I have privilege that too many others do not experience because their choices were limited by the labels we applied to keep them in their place.

I am a human being of great worth. I am a woman. A mother, a wife, a grandmother, a sister, an aunt, a friend. I am an activist, a disruptor, a staunch defender of our human right to be treated with dignity and respect. I am a believer in upending our social constructs to create equity and inclusion for those who have been marginalized, pushed aside and under the colonial structures of our past. And however I am, where ever I am, I am an artist, a writer, story-teller, creator of words and images, a lover of life and this fragile condition we call our humanity.

Which of these is diminished because my age puts me in the demographic cohort of being labelled a ‘senior citizen’?

On Being Okay with What Is.

If this is your one life to live, what would you do differently today?

Just so you know, that was not the opening line I had intended to write when I sat down to create this morning – it is the one that appeared. And, as writing here is all about a continuous journey to learn how to ‘trust the process’, I lwrote it out and am now shifting from what I had intended to write about to exploring the question..

It’s a good question. What would you do differently if you embodied that truth? “This is your one life to live.”

I think at every age, my response would be different.

Off the top of my head, in my teens, I’m pretty certain I’d not have worried so much about trying to fit in and what my peers thought of me and spent more time asking myself if I like the person I’m becoming.

In my 20s, I’d have not moved back to Canada from Europe because of a boy. I’d have been more thoughtful of my next steps and, rather than just let life happen, I’d have spent more time meditating on ‘Who am I and want kind of human being do I want to be. What kind of life do I want to create?”

Yet, here’s the thing. While it’s fun to look back and ponder ‘what would I have done differently’, the fact is, I can’t change the past.

Today, asking myself the question, “What WILL I do differently today?” creates an open slate of opportunities and possibilities, along with a smile on my face!

The smile, because I recognize the trap in the question.

Think about it. To determine what to do differently, I have to be clear on what I’m judging as needing changing or releasing, along with the fact, if they need changing – I haven’t been doing anything about them!

Also, if I’ve got a whole slew of changes I want to enact in my life, every day I continue to do the things that don’t work for me, puts me further and further away from living (and aging) with grace.

Which… just so you know… was not what today’s column was going to be about when I recorded my video this morning!

Which… brings me back to something I’d like to do differently today.

Let it go.

Not worry about the creating of the videos and blog, and instead, allow them to be what I want them to be – my musings and rambling, discourse on aging in which others who feel inspired join in through their comments/feedback/questions or simply watching and reading.

So… while today’s video does not quite align with this post, I’m going to be okay with it’s disconnect.

Why? Because having spent a great deal of my life looking for ‘the connection’ in everything, I am choosing to simply be real, present and okay with what is.

I’m choosing to let it be as it is so that I can be as I am… Pondering the questions of aging, musing about the beauty, the hardships, the changes and the confusion I feel about this thing called, ‘getting older’.

Thanks for joining me. Your comments, likes, thoughts and ideas make a world of difference!

Much gratitude.

Love yourself. Love your fear. Love your beauty. Love your courage..

Yesterday, at a media training workshop I was giving, I told the group that, though I’ve probably done 100s of TV interviews, particularly when I was working in the homeless-serving sector, I seldom looked at any of them.

Interesting.

What was I afraid of?

Well… first. I know the critter in my head. And, I know how self-judgemental he (me) can be. I didn’t want to subject myself to his tyranny of abuse and vitriol about how I move my facial muscles too much. I’m too animated. Too… this or that. Or… Not enough this or that… How I could have said this… better, more clearly, more emphatically. How I missed this opportunity, or that, to really get my point across… Yada. Yada. Yada.

What a missed opportunity!

Being able to learn from my own mistakes. Being able to watch myself in the environment where I was working to determine my strengths, areas needing improvement, and places I could strengthen my delivery, I simply refused to go. To accept the gift. I was too ‘vain’, self-conscious, and insecure to use those interviews to my advantage.

And here’s the thing. If I am to fall in love with myself, all of me, then I have to be willing to SEE all of me. To experience all of me. To know all of me. AND – To be KIND to all of me.

When I think about those missed opportunities to grow and learn from my own experience, the kindest thing I can do for myself today is, be kind in my reflections.

They are not about judging myself. My reflections are about seeing myself through the lens of ‘Oh my. How fascinating.’ and then, doing the thing I fear. Which in this case would be watching myself on camera — without the voice of judgment inspecting all I’m not doing right, or counting the wrinkles or booming out its condemnations and drowning out the voice of kindness that says, “You are brave Louise to do this. Let’s watch and see what you’ve done well here and see if there are places we can work together to improve your delivery.”

Which brings me back to these videos. I don’t like watching myself on camera — and here I am, every morning, putting myself in a position I fear.

Hmmmm…. Maybe, instead of looking for my perceived missteps, I need to celebrate the fact I’ve chosen to step into this arena and be present.

Maybe, I need to say to myself, “Louise, you’re doing okay. You are definitely learning as you grow into this process and you are giving your best. Your best is good enough.”

Because, a) I can’t do better than my best in this moment and b) I am doing this to learn — and part of that learning is to step into my fear and love myself in my fear and my courage.

Do you get what I’m saying?

Loving ourselves requires a willingness to embrace the light, darkness and shadows of ourselves.

It invites us to see more than our flaws. It invites us to witness and celebrate our successes, our courage, our willingness to unapologetically claim centre stage in our own lives.

If I am to age grace, if I am to claim all that I am as worthy, then I must choose to Love all of me for my courage to do just that.

Aging with grace isn’t about giving in. It’s about leaning deeply into the mystery, magic and wonder of this thing called life. This thing that changes us and all the world around us, every single moment we are alive.

I want to age with grace because for me, grace is a ‘criteria; word that extolls the beauty and majesty of being alive without fear pushing me into hiding or avoiding loving me, all of me, exactly as I am.

Namaste

In The Warp and Weft of Life

Yesterday, I shared a metaphor about how to me, life is a runway – I have more behind me than in front of me.

Others shared their view of life as a highway.

I think it is the beauty of this space in life where every perspective has value. There is no one metaphor for life. It is a journey and as so many people chimed in and said, it’s about quality and living each moment we are here to its fullest.

Curious, I went in search of other metaphors for life and found these on VeryWellMind, along with some wise counsel on the importance of occasionally checking our metaphors for life to ensure they are not limiting. Where once they worked, maybe today they don’t.

Some examples of metaphors for life from VeryWellMind include:

"Life is a song; we each get to write our own lyrics."
"Life is a puzzle; you can only see the picture when you put all the pieces together."
"Life is a garden; with care and love you can cultivate beautiful flowers."
"Life is a classroom; you'll always be learning new things."

Metaphors are important. They ignite the imagination, give us a visual context that can open us up to new perspectives by comparing a figurative example to open us up to seeing a situation, person, thing from a creative/different viewpoint. s

The metaphor I used yesterday of the runway was triggered by a conversation at the board retreat for THIRD ACTion Film Fest which I attended on Saturday. (If you haven’t checked THIRD ACTion out – DO! – though I’m sorry if you’re not in Canada you won’t be able to view any of the films online.)

In the retreat, we were talking about ageism. A couple of my fellow board members said they’d never experienced ageism.

I shared the story of how, when I was looking to leave the workforce in 2019, the board had asked if I would stay on. I told them that in good conscience, I could only commit to a maximum two-year timeline. Their response was, “We need more runway.”

That phrasing has sat with me for a long time. I’ve been curious about it — when I gave a two-year timeline I was acutely aware that at almost 66 I wasn’t sure if I had the energy and drive to continue to hold such a high-pressure, demanding role. Especially as the role of an Executive Director of a not-for-profit is seldom 9 to 5.

I had other things I wanted to do in my life and, as so many people commented yesterday, Quality counts.

Quality time with my beloved, my family, quality time doing the things I love, like writing, painting, walking, teaching art-journalling, and participating in art shows – are all very important to me and my mental health. Not to mention my overall sense of well-being, feeling balanced, and embodied in this present moment.

All of which, inspired me to consider what metaphor best describes my life today.

Life is like a giant loom upon which I weave, every day, a beautiful tapestry that is the living picture of my life.

Of course, as I am a wordsmith and love to dive deep into what stirs my spirit into soaring, I had to write more about my tapestry…

My tapestry is made of up beautiful, colourful ribbons. Each ribbon brings its own value, tone, hue,depth, width, and sense of being to the warp and weave. Some ribbons are woven all the way through, some ended their journey into the tapestry long ago, and some I’m just discovering as i continue to load my loom with vibrant hues of life unfolding in all its mystery, majesty and wonder.

How fast I weave is up to me. Life itself will determine when my tapestry is done. All life asks of me is to keep weaving as much joy, laughter, beauty, peace, harmony and Love into the warp and weft of my life, every day.

Do you have a metaphor for your life?

If you do, I hope you feel this is a safe and courageous space to share it.

Namaste

Episode 13: Dare Boldly: No Matter Your Age – Metaphors for life

Week 2: Episode 1 – Unconscious Bias

The first time I filmed this morning’s video I unconsciously knew there was something not quite right. I just couldn’t figure out what it was.

And then I watched it back and realized — I wasn’t wearing my glasses. Which meant, I was squinting the whole way through it couldn’t really see anything.

A very uncomfortable feeling.

So… I refilmed it with my glasses on.

Felt much more comfortable.

I share this story because having started to use ‘readers’ in my mid 50s, I recently got my first pair of prescription glasses. I had no idea I held an unconscious bias around wearing prescription glasses – the bias has to do with the idea that it’s an admission I’m getting older to need them!

‘Cause here’s the thing. If you have a brain, you have conscious and unconscious biases.

Bias is inherent in our human nature.

Our brains are always seeking feelings of belonging and safety. We believe we’ll be safer in groups of people who look, sound, behave like us. Which leaves us with an unconscious selection process of gravitating towards people… much like us.

When I look at our friends, most of them are white, middle class, have children, have similar interests and lifestyles.

We didn’t set out to create a circle in which we feel like we belong that looks similar to us. We naturally gravitated toward people who reflect ‘us’ and our life circumstances. (Selection bias)

While the many types of biases have a detrimental impact to varying degrees on our lives, ageism and the biases we hold about older people, impact our social, political and environmental practices, policies and ability to embrace aging as a beautifully rich and powerful time of life.

One of the areas of ageism that impacts all of us is the collective fear of what it means to age. We try to hide from it, avoid talking about it and in some cases, do everything we can to defy nature’s natural aging processes.

Being stubborn combined with my nature to persist, in spite of perceived obstacles and hardships on the road, has stood me well in my life.

It’s also created hardship and unnecessary challenges.

Once, in my late 40s, shortly after having an orthoscopy on my right knee, I was standing at the top of a mogul field debating whether to take the black run or the more cruising blue one. As I stood contemplating the mogul run, a 20-something dude went whipping past me, effortlessly zig-zagging his way through the field. “Ha!” my febrile mind declared. “I can do that!” And, without another thought, I pushed off and started down.

Knees limber, body loose, I was crushing it.

Until I hit an icy downside of a mogul, lost an edge, and fell.

On the way down in the Ski Patrol cart, I realized my unconscious bias toward having to prove… I can do anything I set my mind to combined with that stubborn streak of telling myself, no ‘young thing’ is going to outdo me, lead to my fall!

I’d like to say the awareness of that unconscious bias has lead to my awakening, but I still catch myself doing things that defy my body’s capacity to do them because I am also ‘awakened’ to the unconscious bias that says, “I can’t do that. I’m too old.” Am Not! 🙂

See… unconscious biases lead us to befriend those who are like us (or hire them). They lead us to do things, or not, because we think we can do anything we set our minds to, or we can’t do them because we’re too old.

They also mean we limit ourselves in our capacity to explore new and interesting pathways, especially as we grow older, because we believe, somewhere deep inside ourselves, that it’s just not done.

And… just so you know… I’m smiling as I write this because I know I’m not yet clear on what it is I’m thinking or even saying about it.

There’s a part of my that thinks I should scrap this post until I get it ‘right’.

Fact is, the reason I’m doing this is to EXPLORE my thinking, ideas, beliefs. And I can’t do that without being willing to risk being vulnerable, not getting it right, not ‘knowing it all’.

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Reading what you write helps deepen my understanding and broaden my perspective.

And I know that is a GOOD THING!

Namaste