The last year of my fourth decade...

Tomorrow will usher in my 49th birthday and the beginning of my 50th year on this planet called Earth.

I'm hearing a lot of things from friends and family this weekend.  Some are telling me how great I look to be *gasp* almost 50 years old.  Others are telling me that I'm getting old and should start shopping for Depends.  One person couldn't believe that we have known each other nearly 40 years while a couple friends are telling me how difficult it's going to be emotionally for me to turn "half a century" old next year.

I beg to differ.

It seems that some folks use birthdays almost as a countdown towards death...as if each year means another step closer to the grave.  They are constantly reminded of the mortality of their physical existence and look at it as something that should be dreaded.  Most of the time they are able to keep those thoughts blocked out of their minds, but on birthdays, especially the '0' years, the thoughts rush back to them.

I've never had any emotional distress at the thought of getting older.  I do look at myself in the mirror on occasion and wish I were 50 pounds lighter and in better shape, but I know I can change those aspects of myself.  I've never cared much about how many years I have under my belt...just how much fat resides there.

Besides, it does no good to worry how old you are.  You can control many aspects of getting older by taking care of yourself, exercising, watching your food intake, etc.  But, you cannot control how old you are.  To me, death is a reminder that we should cherish each and every day in this physical existence...to tell those we care about how much we love them.  To patch up old friendships and put aside petty differences.  To look past political, cultural and religious differences to see the things we all have in common as human and spiritual beings.

Unfortunately, at some point we all buy in to the shallow and superficial world of material possessions, unrealistic body image given to us by Hollywood, and the belief that as we get older we no longer have anything of value to offer to this world.  Pop culture treats getting older as a curse...if we're not 19 and built like a Greek Olympian, then we are disposable.  Or if we do exist, it's as a caricature of a human being...a bitter stereotype who hates young people and has an unpleasant smell.  Older people in most television and movies are not revered for their wisdom and experience...they're portrayed as out of touch, ignorant, and stupid.  Only the young people can solve problems and make any positive contribution to society in these "harmless" fantasies created by network executives and marketed to capture the attention of their targeted demographics.  I'm sorry, but I just don't buy into it.

I think we are all valuable in this world.  I look at people who came before me as a window to a different time...such as my grandparents who talked to me about growing up during the depression and living through the rationing of World War II.  The amount of sacrifice that was required during these difficult times was incredible.  But then I look at folks today and people who think that sacrifice is going without Starbucks for a day.

At any rate, I have faith that the universe will unfold as it should.  I believe that when my time on this earth has ended, I'll move on to the next plane and reflect on these experiences.  I hope that at the end of my life, I will be able to say that I have grown spiritually and that I have given love to everyone around me.  I may disagree with folks about certain things or even sometimes sever relationships over irreconcilable differences....but I always try to love and forgive.  Being bitter or holding grudges against folks is not good for the soul...it's like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies from it.

Okay...sorry.  My automated "mindless babbling" alert just popped up!  I'll wrap this up for today.

Blessings and light to you all!

A week of gifts and challenges...

It’s been a week, folks. Work has been its usual circus of deadlines, change requests, and competing priorities—basically a juggling act where someone keeps tossing in flaming bowling pins just for fun. It’s busy in a good way, but nothing kills your momentum like a client casually dropping a change request that blows up your entire timeline. Ah yes… the glamorous life of project work.

On the brighter side, one of my real estate clients had an offer accepted this week. It’s a short sale, so now we’re in that fun “hurry up and wait” phase while the seller’s lender decides whether to bless us with their approval. The listing agent swears it won’t take long. I’m choosing to believe them because optimism is cheaper than therapy.

Speaking of new developments—we added a new family member! Tilly the Turtle joined us on Monday after a glamorous pickup from Petco. She’s settling into the pond nicely. At first she was skittish, darting into the water like we were tax collectors, but now she sunbathes on the rocks every morning like she owns the place. The second we open the back door, though? Splash. Gone. She’s basically the introvert I aspire to be.

I also started a new certification class for my hypnosis credentials. I already have two—one in basic hypnosis and one in past life regression therapy—and now I’m working on smoking cessation. I’ve really enjoyed these classes and have been using self‑hypnosis to make some positive changes in my own life. I’m not sure what I’ll ultimately do with all these certifications, but friends have already started lining up with “issues” they want me to help them with. Apparently, I’m becoming the neighborhood hypnotist.

I’ve also been planning a spiritual retreat to Santa Monica in October. I’ll be gone the weekend of the 16th for three days. I hesitated because of the cost, but James and I have been blessed with extra income from real estate referrals this year. We’re working hard to become completely debt‑free in the next few years—including paying off the mortgage. Thanks to a cash‑out refinance during the housing boom, we’re underwater now, but we can make the payments. After all the layoffs I’ve lived through, we’ve realized we need to live within our means and stop borrowing for anything. So yes, I’ve been working 12–14 hour days lately trying to pay things down and build a safety net big enough to cushion another layoff if it comes.

Spiritually, I’m trying to stay on a healthier path this year. I spent too long letting negativity and cynicism pull me into petty drama. And yes, Prop 8 still ticks me off, but I’m at peace with it for now. I know in my heart it’ll be overturned eventually, and James and I weren’t personally affected. What matters is that we’re together and grateful for how much progress has been made in our lifetime.

So here I am on a Sunday morning, blogging while petting Willow and nursing a slight wine headache. I watched Push last night—Chris Evans and Dakota Fanning. Not great, not terrible. But somehow the entire bottle of wine disappeared. And since James doesn’t drink, I can’t even pretend he helped.

Hope your day is filled with blessings, love, and fewer deadlines than mine

New puppy is at home!!

But I am very pissed...she has lost about a pound (she was only 9.5 pounds last week) and she has a terrible cough. Not to mention that the vet injured her paw while clipping her nails. It took ten days from the day I adopted her to get her spayed and ready for me to pick her up. She's so sick now!

She's curled up in the bed and I'm making her chicken soup and giving her treats today.

She's still adorable though!

New addition to the family...

After the loss of our Lucy girl, we knew the best way to honor her memory was to adopt another puppy from the pound. We hadn't planned to do this so soon, but this little girl found me.

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I dropped by Sacramento Animal Control on Bradshaw Sunday afternoon. They usually aren't open on those days, but on the first Sunday of each month, they have special adoption events. I dropped by only to leave a package of medications that Lucy had been on for the last few weeks. We didn't need them and I thought they might be useful to the vets there. After all, Lucy was the first of three dogs I adopted from them: Lucy, Ricky, and Odie.

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While visiting, this little bundle of joy was sitting in a cage with 3 other dogs. She was in the corner being very timid and shy. When the other dogs would get to close, she'd shiver and shake and start crying. A few other people were trying to get her to come over to the cage door so they could pet her. She was so scared that she wouldn't move. So, I knelt down and talked to her very quietly and said that everything was going to be okay. She ran to the cage door and climbed up the door trying to get to me.

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I was hooked.

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I got one of the officers to let her out for a while. I sat with her for about 30 minutes...she finally stopped shaking and started licking my face. The volunteers there said that she had been so afraid of everyone else that only one other person had taken her out of the cage. So, I paid my $111 fees and they scheduled her surgery. They said that she was found in a field and only know that she cowers when people reach for her like they are about to hit her.

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We believe that she is part Chihuahua and part miniature Doberman or Pinscher somewhere in the age range of 2 or 3 years old. She is truly a sweet dog and I can't wait to bring her home on March 12th after her surgery. We're looking at names and haven't made any decisions about that at all yet. They call her Tinker Bell at the pound, but James and I said "Absolutely not!"

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We miss our Lucy terribly, but I am sure she would be proud that we're giving another lost dog a shot at a long and happy life with us.

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Many blessings to you and yours!