Category: Over age fifty

YOU ARE ALL YOU’VE GOT


Most of us know how to love others, but how good are we at taking care of the love of You, your most important self? From the beginning of time, women have long been caretakers of others and not so much of ourselves. Of course, there have been exceptions, (i.e. Samson’s Delilah who only feigned protecting her man and also several Shakespearean women I can think of) but the maternal instinct runs long and deep for most of us women.

My name is a derivation of Alexander and means protector of men. In my lifetime, unfortunately I have been guilty of living up to this meaning of my given name. Guilty not in the sense that it was a totally misguided mission, but it was an embodiment of my character that caused my own self-esteem much harm for a long time. A good life, a worthwhile life does not always have to mean constant self-sacrifice.

It took me a long time to understand that I could give and keep at the same time. Whether you agree with them or not, the Fox’s News Channel boasts, “fair and balanced.” I do know that it is easier said than done, but this is what we should be aiming for if we want to set our sails for a happy and complete life. I’m not too sure she was the best role model in her time, but the late singer Janis Joplin once said something that rings true with me. She said, “Don’t compromise yourself. You are all you’ve got.”

♥♥♥♥♥

TO LEAP OR NOT TO LEAP

(Author’s note: If you have read my book “Behind The Magic Mirror“, you know I have faced the worst of challenges squarely, but there are other life events that may not be life-threatening, but are very real and immobilizing for many of us.)

Looking back at my life, I would say fear of change has immobilized me more than it should have. Too smart, too late? I don’t think so. I am still in a constant learning pattern in this life and I am about to turn a new page and move on. Both fearful and excited, I am ready to let go and let life show me a better path.

One of the biggest problems we can encounter when we consider making changes to our life is that brick wall we can’t seem to get over. Even though the changes we want to make will bring more happiness by considerably enhancing our lives, self-doubt and fear of leaping over that wall to the other side will still try and stop us in our tracks.

Why does this happen?

Now that’s a million dollar question, isn’t it? To leap is not only the action of leaping, but it is to hopefully hit the ground somewhere better than where you are at that moment. You can’t always gage it perfectly, but in the action of doing, you must not forget to realize that taking the leap is nothing short of an act of courage.

Realistically, most of us don’t get epiphanies. We only get a faint whisper, perhaps just the slightest of
urges. My big whisper, one that changed my life forever came not from within me, but from my mother years ago when she convinced me to audition for Romper Room. So fearful and so sure that I didn’t have any of the qualifications for the television show, I was focused on “what’s next” instead of what was first. I was afraid to believe in myself by holding myself accountable for the opportunity I was being given.

My mother’s whisper taught me that there is nothing more brave than filtering out the chatter (in my own head) that kept telling me that I was someone I was
not. She taught me that there is nothing more genuine than breaking away from the chorus to learn the sound of my own voice. Taking that first leap was nothing short of positive belief in myself. Needless to say, I got the job and it did change my life forever.

I don’t know about you but the ultimate feeling I want before I breathe my last is that I didn’t take advantage of opportunities because I gave in to my refusal to leap forward. My almost missing a life altering opportunity was my wake-up call that shook me out of my complacency. What will yours be? It is up to you to take your own leap of discovery into a new life.

♥♥♥♥♥

Mazel tov, Salude, Bravo, Congratulations

Sandrashart is closed today and until after Labor Day. My son, Emerson Hart, the lead singer/songwriter of Tonic, is getting married this weekend and we will be closing up shop and celebrating this wonderful occasion with close friends and family.

Puppy Lessons

Sweet Pesto, clueless as to why he always lives up to his name

While walking along the beach the other day with my two rescued pups, Sofi and Pesto (who constantly lives up to his name) I was thinking about life and as individuals how our perception on “just being” varies.

Sofi merrily bounces along in life without a care, along the beach, in the park, everywhere. People just love her because in spite of her bow-legs, pigeon-toes and under-bite (but she does have a gorgeous tail that curls high over her back) Sofi is a clown, loving me, I think, but loyal to no one but herself. I often fear that should I forget to be a good mom, she would easily take up with another who’s pastures seem greener. Sofi’s cheerful independence is catching and it makes me happy to be with her.

Pesto, on the other hand, is like Crazy Glue, I can’t walk, talk, sit or work without his trying to get on my lap, under my feet or stuck to my side. I can’t pick him up without his trying to infect me with every germ he has breeding in his long and slimy tongue. I try to give Pesto the extra love he needs, but his neediness and blatant insecurity makes me weary. In other words, I do love him in spite of himself, but Pesto weighs me down at times.

Sofi’s Lesson: We each are unique packages, not one like another. It is our inner package that shines through with independence and a zest for life that helps make us attractive to others. Having confidence in that difference and realizing that it does truly make us special allows us the freedom to be happy with ourselves and honors the fact that we are comfortable with who we are.

Pesto’s Lesson: Clinging vines belong on wallpaper. Few things are more self destructive than thinking that your happiness depends upon another person, career goal or material object. This behavior invariably produces a “Is that all there is?” emptiness at the end of the rainbow. Realizing that your acceptance of and belief in yourself is primary to how you are perceived by others. You are special and celebrate that!
©sandrahart2012

Leaving The Nest

This is the time of year many graduates are leaving their nests, torn from their mother’s breasts and flying away with wings of their own. Long ago I realized that a mother’s job is not to hold, but to help mould and then to let go. Letting go, that last part, for me was the hardest of the triage in helping nurture my children into young adulthood. Without any manual, I know I have made mistakes along the way, as I am often reminded by my ‘perfect’ children, but my heart was always in the right place and beating in their behalf. As their mother, I have always encouraged their dreams and hopefully, given them strong wings to fly away to their destinies.

I dedicated my first book, Behind The Magic Mirror, to my three children and this is what came from my heart:

My journey began before you came. I didn’t know, part of the way, you were to walk with me.

I traveled unknowingly, seeking roads along the way. Looking for that perfect life. An Eden where we could stay.

Sometimes the way was unclear. We often journeyed in darkness, misguided by my ignorance, complicated by my innocence.

I have taken you places you may never have been had destiny not chosen you to travel along with me.

Your journey will take its own course. And as was meant to be, I will continue along my paths, guided by choices yet unknown to me.

Take my hand and bid farewell. Our paths to touch now and then.

Each journey’s day I feel blessed it was meant to be, part of the way, You were to walk with me.

©sandrahart2012

The Memory Wrecking Ball

Whoosh! A great big recking ball is smashing, smashing my childhood memories. With each giant swing it is right now as I write, taking down Roosevelt Elementary School on LaBelle View in Steubenville, Ohio.  Or at least this growing pile of wreckage is playing havoc, trying to obliterate my time within its rooms.

Whoosh! The dark red brick walls that weathered six feet snow drifts, baking sun and mis-guided baseballs  rebounding  off the impressive structure. Gone.

Whoosh! The wooden floors that always smelled of linseed and Pinesol that always squeaked a chorus of ‘foot’ notes. Gone.

Whoosh! The piercing sound of the siren that let us know we had to fly up the two blocks from home as fast as our legs would allow on those days we lingered too long at breakfast. Gone.

Whoosh! My wooden desk that someone decided to immortalize with his initials “PJ” that always filled with my rubber erasure dust. Gone.

Whoosh! The cement steps we ran down at noon to go home for lunch, my girlfriends peeling off at each house they called home. Mothers would always be there with a hot lunch waiting and a kiss goodbye at the end of the hour. Gone.

Whoosh! The second floor windowsill my friend Donna and I leaned from to wave goodbye to her dad’s cousin, Dean Martin with Jerry Lewis after they visited our school. I so hoped to get discovered and go to Hollywood. Gone.

Whoosh! Gone are the memories of leaving the blue collar steel town, filled with smoke from the mills that covered the tall statue of General Von Steuben in front of the court house.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Just as easy as that. Gone.

©SandraHart2012

Just was notIfied by Amazon that all four of my Kindle titles are available now in India. With England, Germany and France already, I now have wider distribution outside of the US. I’m running to my Keurig for a cup of my favorite brew to celebrate. With the cost of those pods I need all the help I can get!

How Sweet It Is!

 Grandchildren at times can be both joy and the backside of heaven!

I hate to admit it, but I have finally reached middle age, or to be more honest, I am just on the edge of the  cliff from being ‘old’ at least in my grandchildren’s eyes. And who sees clearer than a bunch of  pre-schoolers with virgin honesty that has not yet been corrupted by watching us adults? No one I have yet to meet in my travels, anyway.

For most of my adult life I have been writing about life around me as I see it. First as a CBS affiliate  anchorperson and then as an author. And for several years now I have been writing about everyday living and how to make the most of it.

I am at my happiest when I am with my family or when I am creating. As much as I enjoy being in the public arena, entertaining, lecturing and helping other people, I was born a very introspective person. For some reason I have not always been able to comfortably share my own deepest thoughts and feelings, even with my closest friends and family.

Perhaps that is why writing so comfortable for me. What I feel, what I think becomes a fountain when put on paper. As a young girl with an older brother who was always off on his own with his friends, I learned to use my creativity to entertain myself. Being able to put my thoughts and feelings down has always been joyful to me.

During the 12 hour ride from New Jersey to Lexington, Kentucky this weekend I learned a new meaning for ‘sweet’ from my 18 year-old  grandson. To me “sweet’ has always meant the stuff that packed the pounds onto my hips, the taste of root beer or the look on my little girls’ faces when they wanted something from me. But today it seems that ‘sweet’ has replaced ‘cool’ in hip teenage vernacular.

So when I think of aging gracefully, if there is such a thing, I say ‘sweet’.  I told him about the comedian Jackie Gleason’s famous line as his character Ralph in The Honeymooners, “How sweet it is!” To me that always meant things were darn good. So maybe this current tweaking of the meaning of ‘sweet’ is not too far from Ralph’s gleeful proclamations years ago when life was rockin’ with Alice.

All of this thought pattern continued when in Lexington I picked up at the local Barnes & Noble a copy of Dr. Andrew Weil’s book, “Healthy Aging.” According to Dr. Weil we all begin aging from the time of birth. (Whoa! Isn’t that a depressing thought!)

He quotes the words of an Eastern philosopher, “The sun at noon is the sun declining; the person born is the person dying.” 

Aging is really not reversible. But on the positive side, his message is clear. At any age it is important to learn how to live in appropriate ways in order to maximize health and happiness. That really should be an essential goal for all of us.

 

 

Prologue

For those of you who have read my memoir, Behind The Magic Mirror, you are familiar with the story of my life up to and until the year 2002.

I grew up in Steubenville, a gloomy Ohio Valley steel town on the banks of the Ohio River and as a young woman realized my dream of leaving the industrial grime and smoke that I grew to hate.

Attending college far away from home was not only a way out, but also during my years at school, life afforded me a break. I was asked to audition for Bert Claster, the creator of a popular children’s television show, Romper Room, syndicated throughout the world.   This occurrence changed my life forever and I began on a whirlwind of life-changing events that caused me to eventually lead a double life. My public persona was that of a successful anchorwoman, but my private life was one of personal pain and constant terror.

My mind was occupied with a stalker that had threatened my life and in searching for the truth, I discovered that it was my husband, who eventually was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic. In 1980 he disappeared from the face of the Earth, never to be heard from again.

It took me eleven years to sort out the mystery of my husband’s disappearance and to also sort out my feelings when I discovered the truth.

When the ball dropped in New York’s Times Square on the Millennium and we all survived while entering the next century, I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to tell my story.

My initial plan was to combine a journal that I kept traveling the Nile River in 1984 with the story of my life and the investigation I started thereafter involving Jennings’ disappearance.

I wasn’t too sure that anyone but me would be interested in my emotional evolution during that prior journey to Egypt, so I gave my journal to several of my family and good friends to read. They encouraged me to go ahead and begin telling my story using my journal, but I decided to put it aside and just start telling my story right from the beginning as it was lived.

After years of trying not to think about my life with my husband and his death,  I thought that if and when I made the decision to validate my pain and let go of the anger that there would be a great emotional healing that would release me. That there would be a great catharsis that would set me free.

So then why was I sitting there trying to fight back not tears of joy, but of emptiness. Why was there no feeling of an end for me? An end to my life with him, a severing of the cord for once and for all. He was gone and now I could get on with my life.

But as I sat there I knew there would be no end for me, and no end for my children. How could I not have seen it before? Knowledge gives us power, but it would never give us complete closure. We can never erase the days and years he was a part of our lives. Those memories we will carry forever.

So I have traveled this long journey to discover that in the end to find answers is just part of the closure. And it is not the most important in the trilogy  of finding peace within. It is the confronting of truths and the forgiveness of  trespasses against us that brings final peace and closure.

So that is my story. That is part of who I am. The answers I had looking for closure had released me to another journey that begins for me everyday my feet hit the floor. I can’t wait to see what is around the next bend in my after-fifty road. And I thank all of you who are willing to travel with me as I experience life and living here on this planet we all are lucky enough to share together.

♥♥♥♥♥

Conundrum

What words plea

Upon the page

 To tell my tale

Expose my soul

 So I can feel 

 So you can see

What I know? 

Me.      

♥♥♥♥♥

 ©Sandra Hart 2012

Tuesdays Are For Traveling

Tea was served here in the mornings on the patio of the Amakhala Game Reserve in South Africa

We were driven from the port at Port Elizabeth to the Amakhala Game Reserve by a very proper English gentleman who had served in the British Army as an officer in his younger days. Beautiful stretches of open land and green trees passed by until our final destination where we were met with two friendly dogs who called Amakhala their home. Of course, nothing could have delighted me more than to have a four-legged greeting party.

This Safari was a dream of a lifetime for me. Just seeing the Big Five in their natural habitat, the hours of driving through the reserve trying to find them, hearing the sounds and smelling the African soil was really on the top of my bucket list. If I could only add all of those sensory elements to these photos!

“Doei”, my South African friends at Amakhala.,

©Sandra Hart 2012