I never thought about age differences thirty-three years ago when I married Arthur. Somehow when you are really young age difference matters, then it disappears in adulthood, and suddenly the awareness reawakens as you get older. It really is a strange dicothemy.
My husband is thirteen years older than I am and when we got married, I didn’t even think about our age differences. My parents were ten years apart and it worked out just fine for them.
It was only when we celebrated Arthur’s ninety-first birthday, that I realized how lucky I am. All of his friends are gone and he is standing alone and quite healthy in his nineties. The odds are that it could be a quite different story for both of us. Sometimes I think he has more energy than I do!
To celebrate his milestone I recently interviewed my husband about how it feels to be in his nineties.
Copyright Sandra Hart©2017. All Rights Reserved
I have lived long enough that if I would put all of my ‘what ifs’ in writing, l would have a complete novel. Honestly, think back. How many ‘what ifs’ are in your past that if you had a ‘do over’ things would be different, or the outcome would have been much better if you had only….
Well, let me stop you right there. You are where you are supposed to be right now because the ‘what ifs’ didn’t happen. Good or bad, there is no going back, There are few ‘do overs’.
A long time ago I quit torchering myself and put all of my ‘what ifs’ in a basket and lit a match to it. I refuse to live in the past and think that my life would be so much better if I had made different decisions in my life. I decided that living in the now is what is important.
Learn from your ‘what ifs’ Burn that basket and move forward into the present and don’t look back with regrets. Your best life is now!
CopyrightSabdra Hart 2017©
When your children grow up and leave the nest the parent/ child dynamics change. No longer under your roof, their lives continue with you in the background; nose pressed to the window of their lives looking in.
A recent angry force of nature made me leave my nest at an odd time of the year and take refuge with my youngest bird of flight, my son. Hurricane Irma gave him fears his old mum’s nest just might be blown away. So it was that I landed outside the boundaries of a holiday celebration visit in Nashville with my son and his family.
It just so happens that Emerson is a platinum awarded singer/ songwriter who spends a lot of time on the road doing what he loves to do; entertain by telling his lyrical stories. Once in awhile if he is performing within driving distance, my husband and I will make the journey to his concerts and a few moments of private time with him. But in a lifetime that is not much.
You might say we are distant groupies most of the time, however, this time, my only positive Irma experience is that I was given a performance day with my son that I would never have had.
Squeezed within the sixteen day visit of watching my son be a good husband and great father, was a full day of a mother’s heart singing with joy that her son is able to have a satisfying creative life, doing what he was born to do.
Can’t get much better than that. Come along with me for a capsule of my day before a concert hall performance of Songs and Stories in Nashville.
Copyright Sandra Hart©2017
One big positive about being a mature woman is that the bonds of restriction that had me tied in knots most of my life are untied. I am finally free to be me.
As a young woman, I followed the trends, was afraid to be different and never stepped over the line when it came to fashion or being proper. Sure, I took some risks career wise, but I never dared to be out of step as to what was expected of me.
I don’t think I was alone in that mindset. After all, it was the early 60’s, my childbearing and mothering years, before Woodstock and the hippie generation. All that ‘freedom-to-be’ passed me by with diapers and nurturing others.
It must have been in my fifties when suddenly a light bulb went off in my head and I started taking risks. I started to realize it was okay to be me. It was okay to step out of the box.
Knock. Knock. Let me out of here!
Copyright Sandra Hart 2017©
I can be alone at a table of one. I can be alone in a crowded room. It’s all good.
If anything has taught me the biggest life lesson, it’s aging. I am finally comfortable with who I am. It took me so long to get here, maybe longer than most, but I have arrived at that place where it’s okay to be the imperfect me.
Although our culture encourages otherwise, as a woman, it is not all about the outside. Cosmetics, surgery, hair extensions and designer clothes are not the answers to becoming visible again. How we live our lives is the answer to keeping and growing your beauty.
If we have the joy of waking up each morning with gratitude, if we actually look around us and drink in our surroundings, if we live our lives with wonder, if we live with purpose we remain beautiful and forever young.
My view is that living life to the fullest hands down beats all the man-made beauty treatments. Immerse yourself into life doing what makes you passionately happy, whether it is growing by educating, writing, creating, giving to others,
Dreams are not planted by accident. They are there to be nurtured and realized. If we don’t feed them, instead of blossoming into reality, they wither and die a torourous death.
Today start living your beautiful life. It is never too late to make your dreams come true.
Copyright ©Sandra Hart 2017
All Rights Reserved
Who me? Creative? Don’t think so.
I have news for you. Everyone of us has some type of creativity inside of us, whether it be singing, playing an instrument, cooking, gardening, or creating a beautiful vision through makeup everyday.
Life is more satisfying when we use our creative souls with an outlet. Expressing yourself boosts your brain, gives you satisfaction, boosts energy, relieves stress and most of all, brings us joy.
There are five types of creativity:
• Game Changer
• Sensitive Soul
Let me explain the types and how important using our creativity is to us.
Copyright Sandra Hart© 2017. All Rights Reserved.
I know it’s much more difficult to write about ones life than it is to pen a novel. The latter is fantasy, make believe. Journeys you take in your mind that release you from your own reality.
Facing the truth in front of your typewriter is another story. Sometimes is extremely painful to write about ones own life’s reality. Those events are never erased, but lived over and over again. Pages ripped from your past that come back to haunt you and resurface things that you had hope were buried so deep that they would never resurface.
It’s hard to be a writer. It’s hard to write about the truth.
Copyright Sandra Hart©. All Rights Reserved