A GRACE FILLED AGE

A Grace Filled Age

[dedicated to a dear friend in our creative writing group]

 

By Lorraine Santarlas                                                             December 2012

            The art of graceful aging should become an inspiration and wisdom for everyone.   Samuel Ullman wrote, “Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years.  Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.”   Time passes, life progresses, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst.   Making the most of situations, weathering storms, and riding out the waves of bliss, each episode carving out the creases that form facial imprints, where once features were smooth.  These blessed grooves fashioned by smiles or frowns, stress or laughter, reveal the enthusiastic existence, and dedication to living life to the fullest.              

 Many senior folks have mastered the art of living, not only to be physically alive but also mentally alive, by savoring every moment.  Adolescence is just a stage of life. To be young at heart is to be alive.   Pablo Picasso said, “It takes a long time to become young.”  The youthful existence matures and freezes quickly as hard work, stress, and striving to achieve passionate goals eventually stifles a life.  Often we neglect to take time to view the whole picture, to stop and smell the flowers.   Then with time, wisdom emerges, and the youthful mind-set evolves and is revitalized.   For Mark Twain, “Age is an issue of mind over matter.   If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.”    Yes, that indeed is becoming young at heart.   What really matters in life, is love and the blessing of good friends and a loving family.  It is the simple things, basic human kindness, and nature’s splendor that keep us, forever young at heart.

            To be ninety-five is to have lived long and played hard.    Some folks reclaim their God given talents, as time marches on.   Resourcefulness is their pathway for living, enhanced by their intrinsic vigor for happiness.    A writer, a bowler, an amateur artist, she is…a wife, a mother, and grandmother too.  Ninety-five or one hundred and five is simply a number for the years, yet the soul is forever young within, just think of Betty White, Kirk Douglas, or our own Marion Klarman.

            Maybe it is the humor, the fervor, or the courage that seizes the soul to count its blessings.   Elders recall their treasured gifts of sunshine after each cloudy day, the unexpected appearance of a friend who comes to visit just because, or the joy of sharing a belly laugh together.    Whatever the course, as the years go by, it becomes a golden life, a life ground down and polished smooth like precious gems.  Someone wrote that “my flaws are some of my greatest treasures, like grains of sand in oyster shells that must grate and irritate to become pearls.”   Do we take the time to appreciate the life journey with its rough and ragged days?   Then how with time and patience, each trial and tribulation managed to ease and assuage, with age.   These are the lessons we should learn from those who strive, to become one day, an octogenarian or perhaps even centenarian, still alive and carving out deep facial grooves, each wrinkle a ribbon of honor, for all to glimpse and admire this grace filled age.

            It is in this grace filled age of maturity that growing older is easier to be positive.  You care less about what other people think.  You don’t question yourself anymore.  You’ve earned the right to be wrong.    No one will live forever, but while you are still here, don’t waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be.   Do you recognize the precious freedom and grace that comes with age?

Henry David Thoreau wrote:  “Live each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign your-self to the influences of each.”  There is elegance; a grace filled inner soul, and a certain chutzpah evoked from those polished senior citizens.   These elder cliques continue to baffle those younger folks, the ‘old of heart,’ who are still void of grace.

Egyptian Hieroglyphics or Acronym
By Lorraine Santarlas

Archeologists have discovered how the ancient Egyptian method of communication was a system of writing called Hieroglyphics.   Written on the walls of temples and tombs these ancients believed that their signs and symbols were invented by the god Thoth.   The Greek word hieroglyphic is translated to hieros (sacred) plus glypho (inscriptions).    Some written or detailed drawings are in full color, while others are very simple depictions which represent the sound of an object or an idea associated with the object.   Reading hieroglyphics also depends on which direction people, animals or objects are facing.  To confuse us even more, rather than reading from right to left, at times it was read from top to bottom.

Now, I am not saying that acronyms are the same as hieroglyphics but perhaps the scheme in forming an acronym has an ancient basis.   I am personally fascinated by this ancient form of script, especially when I consider the use of acronyms in our modern day society.   I wonder just how far advanced we have come from these ancient Egyptians, with regard to characters and symbols used for text messages.

Thanks to human innovation, no longer are we required to carve words onto wood or stone walls.   Papyrus, rice and vegetable fiber and finally the Chinese discovered the process of disintegrating bark of trees to make paper.  Now humanity wrote with inks and dyes on paper.   Scribes were specialized citizens whose job it was to transfer dictation, stories and the like onto paper.  They would spend hours, perhaps even days, posting the written word onto paper.

              As time evolves, societies continue to advance with technologies like the printing press, typewriters and today computers and printers.   Placing words on paper has become faster and easier.  Yet, almost at the same time, we are reverting to the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics.  The dictionary explains the word Acronym as, ‘a word formed from the initial letters or groups of letters of words, in a set phase or series of words.’   Modern society is increasingly speaking and writing in a new form of script or a series of capitol letters, if you will.    The spelling of words is abbreviated and made more like a hieroglyphic symbols than the word it represents.   For example, rather than write a request for something, as soon as possible, we write asap.    How about providing the alternate name for someone, they are aka, (also known as).     Have you had your bp (blood pressure) checked?   Oh, btw ( by the way),  we have CD’s [compact discs), CEO’s (chief executive officers’), the FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation), the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles), jic (Just in Case), ‘ng’ (no good) and the ever popular etc. ( and so on).    Have we come full circle, or perhaps were the Egyptians’ really a far more advanced society than we realize? 

            In text speak; I am not, lol (laughing out loud).  I have become more and more perplexed as I attempt to read a txt (text) message that is sent to me on my cell phone.   OMG (oh my God!) it may be, NP (no problem) to our youth today but IIRC (if I recall correctly), IRL (in real life), both vowels and consonants are usually required to form a word.   Well, NVM (never mind), I suppose if you can’t beat them you must join them.   So, I plan to practice this modern form of hieroglyphics, and reevaluate my use of acronyms.    If I can do a GJ (good job) in communicating with my new BBF’s (best friends, forever), I will be WB (welcome back) when I can “dig” their lingo so they won’t ST2M (stop talking to me).   Maybe further investigation of  ancient societies and their letters, marks and symbols  will  help me improve my  txt messaging skills and I will be G2G (good to go). 
This thought causes me to GGG (giggle).      

What is 'White Noise?"

‘White Noise’ is described as a merger of many sounds or frequencies to form one sound with no distracting features.    It is as if you are listening to one voice and hearing every word that is said, then attempt to hear and understand hundreds of voices, all speaking at once.   You would only hear a smooth wash of muddled voices with no distracting features.   White noise is what we actually hear from those cheering, chattering crowds at sports events.    Consider also a drop of water, drip, drip, drip.  But if those drips become hundreds of drips at once,  the noise is the sound of a rain shower or, perhaps, the thunderous roar of a water fall.    Why then don’t we describe silence as ‘black noise?’   This silence is the absence of all sound, a still a hush, but I digress.

            We go about our daily routines and are unaware of all the various white clamoring that impedes the ear.    The blare of traffic noises, one car swishing past, then the heavy drone of rush hour traffic sounds.  The white noise created by the buzzing of a fan pushing, blowing, and forcing the movement of air. 

Doctors have discovered that white noise like the sound of a heartbeat, trickling water,  or the gentle hum of music provides comfort to new born babies.  It also soothes the senses of schizophrenia patients.    Who knew the importance of noise?  

Why then,  do so many people seek out peace and quiet?   People go to the mountains, travel long distances to get away from the maddening crowds.   Yet, I seek out the sounds of the ocean, the crashing surf, the gentle lapping of waves against the beach.   Ahhh, how it lulls my senses to rest and peace of mind, at the same time offering me an interlude of soothing sleep.   

Perhaps, the dead of silence is not the pleasure I seek in life.   Only later, after life, I will discover the blackness of no noise.

Where have all the Flowers gone?

I remember a 1960’s song sung by the Kingston Trio called, “Where have all the flowers gone,”
The lyrics are:

Where have all the flowers gone, long time passing?
Where have all the flowers gone, long time ago?
Where have all the flowers gone?
Young girls have picked them everyone.
Oh, when will they ever learn?
Oh, when will they ever learn

   The verse speaks about life, love, and death.   Life begins and then it ends.  The song written during the days of the Viet Nam War is actually about the cycle of history and how impossible it is to break.  It is the continual repetition of events and human behavior moving in cycles.  Life goes on duplicating the past, only the participants change.  Do we ever really learn?  Do we learn too late in life?
   Looking at my own life and thinking of the past.   I frequently notice recurring patterns of my behavior, renewing themselves in the lives of my family.    Although this current generation has acquired more and more, modern conveniences and advanced technologies, human relations are unaltered.      Populations, cultures, and traditions, remain unaffected stuck in time like fat drippings that solidify as they cool.   When will humans ever learn?
   I think about the history of the world and the actions of people and countries.   Folks remain greedy for power and control, and their religious wars are persisting even in today’s world.  Their goal is to propagate their own sacred beliefs and traditions.   These attitudes go back, as far as, biblical times.   Oh, “a long time passing.”
    Now, I look back at my own life, my mistakes, my joys, and my beliefs.  Each slip-up may have been avoided, if only I had listened to someone with experience.   Oh, how my joys were doubled and tripled when wisdom was received.   And, I recall in my youth, my faith and belief in God was fragmented and immature.  
    The dictionary states, ‘that wisdom is a deep understanding and realization of people, things, events, or situations, resulting in the ability to apply perceptions.’   How does a person gain wisdom?   It is not an innate characteristic formed in a human mind.   Wisdom must be lived and learned.
   Like the girls in the song, we go through life picking all the flowers.   Time and again history repeats itself.   We are greedy to have it all, inconsiderate of what the future holds.   Or, what if there are no more flowers?   Moderation, sharing and caring for one another is the reality for our existence on this earth.     Humanity continues to ignore the value and significance of what it possesses.    Only after it is lost or stolen is this understood.     A quote comes to mind when I think of growing in maturity and wisdom.   George Bernard Shaw wrote, “Youth is wasted on the young.”  How true,! If only I knew then what I know now.   Hmmm, I wonder how different my life would be today.    
   “Where have all the flowers gone a long time ago?”

"Plunk Your Magic Twanger, froggy!"

OK, you boomers out there who and where have you heard these infamous words?  

"Plunk Your Magic Twanger, froggy!"

Frogs have been around for more than 190 million years... but not this froggy character.

Just getting started

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