MY FORGETTABLE TOP 10!

sin·gle

ˈsiNGɡəl/

adjective

unmarried or not involved in a stable sexual relationship.

I've been divorced now for six years. It happens, and I'm good with it. After 22 years of marriage and raising three great kids, I love my job, my family, my friends, my boyfriend (who shall remain private for now), and my life. I feel whole and happy.

Over the years I have had many well meaning people question me about this. They don't actually come right out and ask me why I'm not publicly with anyone, but they say things... inappropriate things... misogynistic things... intrusive things! Apparently women of a certain age cannot function without a partner, and I am to be pitied. According to these folks, any relatively normal woman my age should arrange her entire life around finding a partner because, hey, you can't possibly be happy without a man in your life, right?

Don't get me wrong, I still believe in love, and I'm very pro-relationship. I also know that every one of these friends who questioned me has my best interest at heart. But holy cow, their ideas and opinions are impertinent, to say the least. I'm not sure if I should feel flattered or offended that people seem to be comfortable sharing their very strong opinions about me WITH me!

Here are the top ten "forgettable comments" people have shared with me about my apparent singleness. These statements from others are actually, verbatim what people have said to me. The answers that follow, however, are not how I actually responded at the time. I'm sure I bit my tongue and tried to be polite. But these responses are the things I wish I had said! Hindsight is glorious, especially when you're caught off guard.

MY FORGETTABLE TOP TEN

10. "Wendy, are you dating? You need to get out there! Have you tried Match.com? My sister tried Match.com and found a man right away! Obviously every woman's goal after divorce should be finding another man right away, and I must not very good at it. I'm happy for your sister, but NO. 

9. "I'd really like you to meet my cousin! He's very successful, some kind of 'ologist' - can't really remember exactly what he does, but he's got a really great job." (Thinking to myself) Oh God yes, please call the 'ologist' and hook me up. Lord knows I need another 'ologist' in my life. So thankful that your primary criteria for my future partner is that he is gainfully employed as an "ologist".

8. "If you appeared a little less independent you'd probably attract someone. Independent women tend to give off a superior vibe, and men are probably intimidated by you. If they think you don't need them, they won't like you." Right. Because everyone who knows me knows how very much I want to appear helpless and needy. NEWSFLASH: It's not 1955, and I'm not June Cleaver or Doris Day. If a man can't handle my independence, he's certainly not the man for me. I'm not changing for anybody, and I'm certainly not going to appear to be less than I am.

7. "Everyone I know has found a husband at my church! It's a great place to meet guys! You should come with me and I'll introduce you around." What a GREAT reason to go to church! Husband hunting! Actually I found my first husband at church, and that didn't exactly end in happily ever after, so no thanks.

6. "You're too pretty to be single." Ummm, is that a compliment or an insult? I think it's both. No, I'm not too pretty to be single. Actually I'm too smart to be involved with someone who is less than I deserve. I'm holding out for the person who is right for me. 

5. "It's amazing that you've been living by yourself for so long. How do you handle things at home? It must be so difficult for you. Who takes out the trash and handles the yard work? What happens when something breaks?" Oh my gosh. I never thought of that! Whatever shall I do??? I do things myself, you HELPLESS FEMALE MORON, and if I can't do it, I hire someone to do it. Just like I did when I was married. 

4. "I really thought you'd be remarried by now. I'm so sorry." Sorry? Are you kidding me? I'm fully embracing my life! I travel the world with my job, spend time with the people I love, and get to live my life pretty much the way I want to live it. I'm actually sorry for YOU, hon. You're married to a man who is the spitting image of Peter from Family Guy with all the charm and panache of a chauvinistic pig. All you do is complain about him and how miserable you are! Yeah, I totally envy that. Please feel sorry for me.

3. "Are you still working through issues from your divorce? It's been such a long time now. You need to move on. Maybe you should see a counselor." Actually, I did see a counselor for a while after my divorce, and it was very helpful and affirming. I'm happier and more at peace than I've been in my whole life. But thanks for assuming that because I don't have a husband, I must have issues. If people aren't married, there must be something wrong with them.

2. "Who do you take to weddings and funerals, and things like that? Is there someone you can call to go with you? You can't go to events like that alone, that would be horrible, and you know how people talk." Well of course I wouldn't dream of going anywhere in public without a date. What would people think? They might think I'm mean, or independent, or antisocial! If I were alone at a wedding, I'd just sit in the corner and cry pathetically while the other ladies rocked the Chicken Dance with their husbands. Believe me, I've had plenty of people talk about me behind my back. Let them talk. My motto is: What other people think about me is none of my business.

AND MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE:

1. "Are you gay? It's okay if you're gay. But seriously, are you gay? Do your kids know? I mean, you are a Democrat..." Well, I'm a registered Independent, not a Democrat, but Civil Rights for all people are very important to me. I have lots of close friends, both men and women, who are gay. some are in relationships and some are not. If I actually were gay, I certainly wouldn't be hiding it from anyone, especially from my kids! No, I'm not gay. Neither am I in any hurry to discuss my sexuality with a gossip. Why is this important to you, or to anyone else, for that matter? Welcome to 2017. Lots of people are homosexuals. Homosexuality is not a disease, it's not a choice, it's not contagious, and it's not something that randomly happens to you one day. Guess what? Our sexuality - either homosexual, heterosexual, or OTHERsexual, does not define us. It's part of who we are, but it's not all we are. If it is, you've got a major problem, regardless of your personal orientation.

So there you have it!

Please do me a favor. If you have any friends over 40 who are single, please don't judge them, interrogate them, or try to fix them. 

You might be surprised to discover that they aren't even broken.

THE MOUNTAIN

I'm climbing a mountain.
Enormous, powerful, terrifying.
I could have stayed in the valley with the others
(They seem content to be there)
But I'm not happy in the valley anymore.
The valley has never been my home.
I am meant for higher places
That can only be reached by climbing this mountain.

Parts of my climb have had clear, level pathways
Easy peasy, and I take it as it comes.
I climb, I rest, I sing, I catch my breath.
But other parts are treacherous as I hold on with my fingertips
Small stones slipping under my weary feet
Hands bloody and raw from the climb.
I struggle to keep from falling, moving slowly upward
And I dare not look behind me.
There is no safety rope, no net to catch me.
I either climb or fall. I cannot remain on the side of the mountain.

Sometimes the weather is perfect for climbing
And I enjoy my journey in the sunshine
Gentle breezes whispering that I can make it.
Other times it's cold and wet
When the storms come and the clouds and fog are blinding.
Much of the climb is a slippery slope.
Those days make me wonder
Why I ever decided to climb this mountain at all
When I could have stayed behind
In the safe, familiar valley.
But then I remember why I left, and where I'm going
And I climb on.

You are climbing this same mountain.
You're climbing from the other side
And I catch glimpses of you from time to time.
I watch you struggle and strain like I do
Fighting to hold on like I do
Contending with weather, doubts, enemies, and danger
Like I do.
I hear you cry out in anguish to the mountain itself
"Why did you call to me, beckoning me to climb?
Why did I leave the valley - the Devil I know -
For the chance of a better life? What if I die here? What is the point?"
And you climb on.

Truth is, we know why we're climbing.
If we don't give up, we will one day reach the top
The high ground, the place we've always dreamed of.
At the peak of the mountain we will be together
Each having followed our own perilous path
Each having climbed under our own power
No one pushing or pulling us, no one helping or catching us
Building our own muscles and confidence as we climb.
When we reach the top we will know without a doubt
That we have done the impossible.
We climbed that majestic, monstrous mountain and made it to the top.
No one believed we could do it
Not even us.

It doesn't matter who arrives first
What matters is that we both make it
To the place we've worked so hard to reach
The place that's meant for us.
The view from there will be breathtakingly beautiful.
We will see the valley and all of the people who remain there
Living their valley lives, rarely looking at the mountain above
Heads down in day-to-day living, drowning in apathy
Afraid to climb, held hostage by fears
Never knowing there's a way out of the valley and up the mountain.
That was us, not so long ago.

From the top we will be able to see
Fellow climbers scaling the mountainside ever-slowly
Working hard, reaching, bleeding, slowly upward
Determined on some days and doubtful on others.
Our eyes meet in understanding, because we know.
This mountain nearly defeated us, too.
You will take my hand and we will call to them from the top
With love, with words of life
And tell them of the beauty that awaits them.
We tell them that we believe they can do it - we believe in them
We write and sing to them songs of hope
That echo down the mountain and into the valley
"Keep climbing, don't give up!"
"Look up and dare to dream!"

The peak at the top is not a point, as one might think
But rather, a vast expanse
Flat, green, and surrounded by a range of mountains
As far as they eye can see.
To our surprise, this mountain is just part of
Many mountain ranges, hundreds - perhaps thousands of mountains
Where millions of other travelers are climbing
And more millions still living in the valleys below.
We discover mountains and paths
That lead even higher than we are now,
And we wonder where they would take us.
We gather with the others
And there are many
Who have journeyed and climbed
And are now resting in the vast, green expanse.
They welcome us, and we know we belong here.
These are our people.
Those who climbed and survived against all odds.

But today, I am struggling.
I'm on the side of the mountain, scratching and scraping
Thinking about the future, the life I'm fighting for
Reminding myself of the truth and the reward
Sweating profusely, arms extended, reaching, pulling,
Fighting the elements without and within
Desperately seeking sure footing for one more step
One more push
So I can move just a little bit higher today.

I know you're climbing today, too
Dreaming, like me, of new life at the top.
We must keep climbing
We must believe
We must hold on
Another day closer
To the place we are meant to be.

FOR GOD'S SAKE, LAND THE PLANE.

"Land the plane."

It's a phrase I use when I want someone to get to the point. I'm not sure if I heard it somewhere, or if I invented it, but it's always there, ready to pounce like a panther. Most of the time I don't say it out loud, I'm just thinking it when someone in a conversation is going on and on and on and on. AND ON.

I have a mind that races like Secretariat on crack, I'm usually thinking fourteen steps ahead of the other person, with an internal, mental dialogue that is rapid-fire-Aaron Sorkin-esque. It's not very Southern Belle of me, being from Tennessee and all, but there it is. I'm a tornado wrapped in a hurricane moving at the speed of light. And nothing frustrates me more than looooooong stories told by slow-tongued sloth-people.

(Yes, that's me.)

Don't get me wrong, I'm not proud of this. It's a major character flaw and I spend a lot of time masking it. But those who know me know I'm guilty. I've been this way since I was born. Just ask my sweet cousin Keith, who spent hours of time patiently constructing his fab Lincoln Log houses on Granny's living room floor, only to have his whirlwind Sasquatch cousin come barreling through on roller skates, knocking his Andrew Lloyd Wright creations into a pile of rubble. Poor guy.

I have a friend and colleague who is one of the sloth-humans. Let's call him/her Pat, for the sake of non-identification. Pat could very well be the product of the divine mating of two long-winded writers, Don McClean (American Pie) and John Wesley (Methodist hymn-writer). Pat takes eighteen thousand thoughtful verses to say what could be said in two. Pat's emails make the U.S. Constitution look like TrumpTweets, with words so flowery I can smell them through my computer screen. Pat loves words, Pat loves the sound of Pat's own voice, and Pat is not afraid to take as long as necessary to communicate every detail of every thought of every teeny-weeny part of every atom on the speck on the flea on the tail on the frog on the bump on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea.

I adore Pat, but Pat's writing drives me nuts. From the moment I open an email or text from Pat, I find myself frantically searching for the point, like trying to find the eject button before my fighter jet crashes and burns. Please Pat, for God's sake, land the plane.

But it's not Pat's fault, nor Pat's problem. It's mine.

I'm the impatient one. I'm in the wrong. I'm the one who always feels like I'm racing against the clock. I blame my parents, because of course, everything that's wrong with me is entirely their fault, and I have no responsibility in the development of my own character. My family began playing very competitive games with me as soon as I could sit up and "go fish". Once, in a heated game of Old Maid at our kitchen table in Memphis, Tennessee, I physically ate the Old Maid card when I was 4 years old to keep from losing the game to my mother and grandmother. (Not kidding). Needless to say I was not a laid-back child. Whenever I played anything and lost, I would say, "I came in third". Never mind that there were only three people playing and I came in last.

Maybe you're a sloth-human, and people like me are totally offensive to you. I'm sure that the "plane-landers" of the world drive others crazy much more than the sloth-humans do.

If you're a sloth-speaker, sloth-writer, or slothy-thinker, I offer you my heartfelt apology. I wish I were more like you, patient, eloquent, Shakespearean, comforting others with your words and phrases like the balm of Gilead. But try as I might, I'm just not that girl.

If we ever cross paths and I get a little squirmy during our conversation, please know I'm trying. It's not you, it's me.

My heart is with you, and the good angel in me is smiling and nodding, appearing engaged.

But my mind is screaming in silence, "In the name of all that is holy, please LAND THE PLANE."

LIES, TRUTH, THE ELEPHANT, & THE EMPEROR

LIES. The most damaging lies are the ones we believe, and the ones we tell ourselves. Sometimes we live with these lies for years and years, and we smile and pretend that the elephant in the room is not really there at all. We actually start to believe our own lies in time, and our lying thoughts deceive even our eyes and our hearts. If you tell yourself something long enough, whether true or false, you start to believe it. 

That's what lies do. They damage, they hurt, they deceive, they contort, they cheat, they hide.

Lies make cowards of us all.

But, try as we might to ignore it, the elephant IS there. It's big, it's awkward, it stinks, and everyone operates and lives by working around it. There are huge, devastating consequences to living with the elephant, yet we allow it to stay and dominate our lives, our homes, our relationships, our careers. Getting rid of it seems harder than living with it, I guess. (By the way, this is a metaphoric elephant. I love real elephants. Don't hate.)

Lately it seems I've been the only lonely voice pointing out, "Excuse me, but THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES ON!" Everyone knows it, but no one will admit it, because they dare not upset the almighty emperor (who, incidentally, is the biggest liar of all). There are lots of reasons people choose to ignore the truth, but it's usually a combination of fear and selfishness. I don't want to be intimate friends with either fear or selfishness. They are not faithful friends, and to be honest, we have a very bad history. I want to be best friends with confidence, humility, and TRUTH. Speak the truth in love, but for heaven's sake, speak it out loud, especially to yourself.

The truth will set you free. It may hurt like hell, but it will definitely set you free.

20 LESSONS FOR LIVING A PEACEFUL LIFE

I don't always "re-BLOG", but when I do... it is worth reading!

This blog from the Dalai Lama was too good not to share. I hope it offers you as much inspiration as is has me. These are wise words, indeed.

1.    Always remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.

2.    When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.

3.    Follow the three R’s:
– Respect for self,
– Respect for others and
– Responsibility for all your actions.

4.    Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.

5.    Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly.

6.    Don’t let a little dispute injure a great relationship.

7.    When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.

8.    Spend some time alone every day.

9.    Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values.

10. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

11. Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll be able to enjoy it a second time.

12. A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life.

13. In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don’t bring up the past.

14. Share your knowledge. It is a way to achieve immortality.

15. Be gentle with the earth.

16. Once a year, go someplace you’ve never been before.

17. Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.

18. Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.

19. If you want others to be happy, practice compassion.

20. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.

Today I'm 48. I think I like it!

Today I am forty-eight. That’s nearly five decades on this planet! It’s a rather grown-up, adult-sounding age and number. It sounds really old when I say it, but it doesn’t feel that old. It feels like I’m still a giggly 16-year-old girl trapped in a much older body that doesn’t move quite like it used to. It feels like life is moving so fast I cannot quite keep up. It feels like I’ve entered “Act II” of my life and I’d better make every day count.

I like being forty-eight. I’m sure some baby boomer has coined a kitschy phrase like, “Forty-eight is the new twenty-eight” or some such nonsense. But the truth is, being forty-eight is just fine with me. It doesn’t have to be the new anything. It can just be forty-eight, in all it’s glory.

At forty-eight, I don’t have the pressure of looking 25 years old anymore. I don’t have to ever look like a supermodel or movie star. After all, women who are nearly fifty are supposed to have wrinkles and less than perfect bodies, right? We’ve earned our wrinkles and stretch marks! I don’t feel like I need to impress anyone anymore with my abilities, my knowledge, my charm, my success, or my appearance. People can choose to like me or not, and that’s fine. I’ve stopped needing the approval of others, which is a wonderful gift. I know who I am, and more importantly, who I’m not. There are things I’m good at, and there are things I will never do well. That’s okay. It’s who I am. At forty-eight, I am far from perfect, but I like me. I like myself in all of my imperfection. I’ve stopped trying to be perfect, and instead I try to be authentic and real. And being a single woman with three children, real life struggles, and a demanding career at forty-eight is very, very real.

I have realized many dreams in 48 years. I had the privilege of growing up in a loving, supportive family, receiving a wonderful education, playing tennis in high school and college, getting to sing all over the world in amazing venues, and raising three incredible kids who are now in college. I’ve had the opportunity to travel in my job, I am constantly learning new things, I have had the privilege of recording CDs of original music I’ve written with our band, and I celebrate loving, supportive relationships with the people in my life who are most important to me. I have a job that allows me to pursue my passions and to encourage others to connect with birds, nature, and with one another. Lots of dreams have come true in my life. At forty-eight I am grateful.

I’ve also experienced lots of pain and loss in my forty-eight years, but I don’t spend much time looking in the rear-view mirror. But lest you think my cheery smile is due to a carefree life of leisure, I assure you, it is not. I’ve experienced multiple miscarriages and one stillbirth, a violent physical abuse in my teenage years by someone I trusted, health struggles, divorce, significant career changes, major financial struggles, some very unique and challenging relationships, deep heartbreak that left me in despair, some big, embarrassing mistakes, and like everyone, the challenges of balancing career, family, and life. I own all of this. Some of these things were the result of my choices, and some were just things that happened. All of the pain and loss has shaped me, taught me, humbled me, and helped me. I’ve cried many tears, faced many fears, and overcome many obstacles. I’m sure there are more challenges ahead, but I’m thankful to have survived this far and come through smiling. I’m happy because I choose to be, not because life is easy.

At forty-eight I still have lots of dreams yet to be realized. Dreams about many places I’d like to go, adventures, people I’d like to meet and learn from, dreams of love and life and experience. I’d love to climb a mountain, go deep sea diving, write a novel, write lots more music, become a grandma some day, and see rare birds and wildlife in as many countries as possible. I have dreams of seeing my children become the people they are meant to be, and follow their own dreams and passions. I have dreams of growing old with a partner I adore, with whom I can share the ups and downs, joys and disappointments of life, someone who will dance with me in the rain and make me laugh when I want to cry. I have dreams of being as healthy as I can be for as long as I can be. I have dreams of giving and blessing others, and dreams of improving the natural world around me. I dream of leaving this world much better than I found it, and perhaps leaving each person I meet feeling a little stronger, a little more confident, and a lot more loved.

At forty-eight, there is nothing I want or need that can be bought in a store. What I want now revolves around the happiness and well being of the people I love and the world I live in. I want to make a difference, even in a small way, in this life. I want a simple, happy, purposeful life. Peace, health, love, joy. What I want now is to pursue my passions, to fill my life with inspiring people, and to keep learning and growing and changing. I want everyone I love to be happy, healthy, and strong. I want my world to be free of violence, crime, sickness, pain, and hate. I want to make my planet healthier and happier. It’s really not complicated. Forty-eight is rather simple.

Whether I’m forty-eight, sixty-eight, or lucky enough to see eighty-eight, I will always be most grateful for the people in my life. Honestly, I feel like I am the luckiest woman in the world! Not because life is so easy, but because I am so very loved. I have an amazing family, true friends from all over the globe, a roof over my head, food in the fridge, and love, passion, and forgiveness in my heart. The love of family and friends make life worth living. Things don’t matter, people do.

At forty-eight, I think that maybe, just maybe, I’m finally starting to get it. This is NOT a dress rehearsal. This is life, and it’s happening NOW. I can live it or lose it. I can become bitter or better. I can be brave, or I can quit. I can be happy or sad, full of joy or self-pity. At forty-eight, I have choices every single day.

I wonder what my 48th year will hold! Many surprises and challenges, successes and failures, no doubt. But I’m grateful to see another birthday, another sunrise, another day to love and laugh. At forty-eight, every day you wake up is a good day!

Thanks for being part of my life. I hope I get to spend the next 48 years enjoying all of YOU!