The Four Elements: Hearts Afire

Part 2 of 4


© 2009 by Joyce Mason
All Rights Reserved.

Chances are early man first observed a naturally occurring fire from a lightning strike--some say, as long as 40,000 years ago. It may have taken many generations before Homo erectus figured out how to strike two rocks together to start a fire on his own. Once these early men got that know-how, they had overcome one of the biggest hurdles to evolution. Life would never be the same. Now meat could be germ-free, and eating it would take less gnawing, which led to a smaller jaw and teeth. With more digestible nutrients, both their brains and bodies increased in size. Fire allowed creation of better tools for more effective hunting, ensuring a steady food supply. Fire kept carnivorous animals at bay that preyed on humans for food. It provided warmth and comfort.

And that’s just on the physical level! We might still be squatting in caves without it, and, ladies—heaven forbid—cavemen might still be dragging us around by our hair bearing a club. These are reason alone to light candles on our altars, paying homage to the element fire. We wouldn’t be here now—in our present shape, form, freedom, and capabilities—if it weren’t for the fire discovered and perpetuated by our earliest human ancestors.

Fire is this and so much more. When we’re excited, we say “we’re all fired up.” When we’re passionate about something we’re doing, we’re “on fire.” When stress takes it’s toll, we’re “burnt out.”

These expressions all suggest what Fire means in Chinese medicine. I have used acupuncture as one of my main healing modalities for nearly 25 years. In that system, Fire rules the heart and circulation. Before traditional Chinese medicine practitioners knew about the nerves and glands, they called these systems The Triple Warmer or sex energy. A person with excess fire in Chinese medicine terms is high-strung and highly stressed. Conversely, a person who lacks fire would feel burned out and may suffer fatigue, restlessness, and disturbed sleep among a bevy of other potential symptoms.

It’s the connection to the heart that makes fire so important. It is our spark and the seat of the warmth we are able to give each other. There is no love without fire.

The astrological Fire Signs are Aries, Leo, and Sagittarius.

One of my favorite songs of all time is Hearts Afire by Earth, Wind, and Fire. (Could I really do a series on the elements without mentioning this band I fell in love with in the ‘70s? I’ve always loved their astrology-inspired name.) I was mad for the TV series of the same name starring the late John Ritter, Markie Post, and Billy Bob Thornton during its short run from 1992-95.

Passion is heat, whether it’s sex or anger. We refer to a sexy man or woman as hot or a hottie. When an e-mail or internet post is angry, mean, or spiteful, it’s flaming. It’s often not easy to contain, that’s why the astrological fire signs have their challenges with reeling in their anger or urge to go forward (the Aries temper and impatience), their pride (Leo boastfulness) or opinions (the Sagittarius know-it-all).

In Native American spirituality, Fire is associated with the direction South. Its color is white for peace and happiness. Its season is summer, a time, of plenty. Perhaps the old “rule” for wearing white only in summer till Labor Day came from this association.

Fire is Eros—our life force. In mythology, the god Eros is the patron of male love. (Aphrodite rules the love between men and women). Still, sexuality is only one aspect of Eros, even though the term erotic is derived from it. Eros is our flame, the passion that fires our work in the world, and our life energy itself. It’s what makes us shine and fires us up to get the job done. In one of the astrology books that most changed my life, Chiron: Rainbow Bridge Between the Inner and Outer Planets, Barbara Hand Clow links eros with the kundalini or awakened life force. The idea is to have this energy flow freely through all our chakras from the base of our spine to our third eye. The kundalini rises naturally at the Uranus Opposition, according to Clow, which happens when we are around 40. The Uranus Opposition is one of the midlife transits that associated with "midlife crisis." The sexual side of that energy is often what causes otherwise “normal” people to leave spouses, have affairs, or buy a hot red sports car! Ultimately, when kundalini rises through all seven chakras, we have harnessed the life force in its full possibilities and become balanced, warm, and often overtly spiritual people.


Don’t play with fire, but do experiment with it! From candles to a roaring fire in the fireplace, watch it on your gas range, barbecue, or try some Tiki torches on your patio. If there’s a controlled burn or an unexpected fire in your area, watch from afar and see what you learn just by observing this element. It’s fast and furious, it can be quickly destructive, but it also can provide everything that nurtures us—hot food and drink and a snuggly temperature for hugging.

Fire is the life force, and most important of all, the love force. Of course, there’s no difference:

"The day will come when, after harnessing space, the winds, the tides, and gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of love. And on that day, for the second time in the history of the world, we shall have discovered fire." ~ Pierre de Chardin

~~~


Photo Credit: FIRE HEART © Silverv |Dreamstime.com


Four Element Series


Air - Air Born
Water - Wetting Reception
Earth - I Dig Earth!




References

How Was Fire Discovered
Fire and Early Man
Fire Chinese Element Symptoms
Native Spirituality

The Ordinary Life

I was afraid of living an ordinary life, and I realized that’s what we all get. We all get an ordinary life. And it’s good enough.  ~ Garrison Keillor

Recently, my husband and I finally got around to listening to a PBS special we had TiVoed some time ago, "Garrison Keillor: Man on the Road in the Red Shoes."

Even if you’re not already a fan of A Prairie Home Companion, this is a slice of Americana you won’t want to miss, especially if you’re an American, a reader, a writer, or an old radio lover. As all four, it hit a home run out of the ballpark with me …

… but Garrison’s closing punch line about the ordinary life stuck in my craw, demanding I digest the contents and share any emotional/spiritual nutrition I derived. That quote is turning out to be one of those health food drinks with a shelf full of vitamin additives.

I never saw myself as ordinary, nor do others see me that way. I definitely don’t see Garrison Keillor as ordinary, and I’m sure most other people don’t either. So, my question to me—now to you is: Just who are you on the continuum of ordinary to unique? Why does “owning” both of these seemingly opposite designations matter?

Ordinary Dilemma

A deep truth struck me in the moment I heard Garrison say this. The ordinary life is what we get for starters—but in order to express extraordinary skills and talents, there are often huge impacts on the ordinary life—a big price to pay. That is, until we can learn to hold both of them at once, which we must, each in our own style and way. This is what it takes to achieve balance and happiness.

We doubt this balancing act is possible, yet many celebrities model this achievement for us every day. President Obama talks about how one of the benefits of his job is the ability to have dinner with his kids most nights, something he often could not do as a Senator. Certain stars leap immediately to mind as putting family first. Bon Jovi, a true family man, attends his kids’ parent-teacher meetings, just like any other mere mortal. Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick alternate working, so there’s always one parent who is primarily at home. You probably know dozens more examples.

I have always sensed that I could never achieve my ultimate success unless or until I had a grounded, happy home life. Now that I have it, I sometimes fear that I sabotage how far I can go, because I am afraid of losing my warm nest and grounded routine. These are the very things that nurture me down to my toes and up through my soul. They give me the springboard for going out into the world and doing great things.

Yet, I am still sometimes afraid to leap. I do not want to lose the ordinary things I treasure: my husband’s warm hugs and teasing (alternating between endearing and annoying), kitty whiskers rubbing my face, watching our ritual mystery movie on Saturday nights, getting the mail, or our teamwork on gathering and putting out the garbage one night a week. While some of these things sound boring, they are also the stepping-stones that mark our days and help them feel solid. Breaking out of this routine sometimes feels like throwing off the down comforter on a freezing cold winter morning and forcing myself into the shivering dawn and discomfort for no good reason.

Hints from the Other Kind of Stars

Astrology has helped me understand this dilemma. It offers several planetary and mythical metaphors to help all of us sort out and blend our internal mix of ordinary to extraordinary parts of ourselves.

Saturn represents foundations, structure, and responsibility, as well as wisdom and being grounded. Permanence and self-sacrifice are also its domain, all together, the stuff that solid daily life is made of—or any long-lasting “institution.” However, if that were the entire substance, marriage and/or the family and home life would drive many of us crazy enough to belong in an institution of another kind.

Uranus, on the other hand, represents the opposite archetype—originality, uniqueness, the unexpected, freedom and independence. You can probably sense right this minute whether you’re more Saturnian or Uranian. I thought I started out more Saturnian and grew more Uranian, especially when I moved to The Left Coast in 1973 at the height of the counterculture movement. On viewing my first wedding photos, more than one person has said I looked like “a hippie princess” in my old-fashioned muslin dress and crown of wildflowers. By contrast, back when I was growing up in the 1950s, I thought I was Happy Days typical. I’ve been stunned, quite honestly, to have many people tell me I was “a free spirit” from a very early age. So, when you’re mulling over where you start on the Saturn/Uranus symbol curve, you might also want to get a second opinion from those who have known you for a long time.

Chiron is my astrological specialty, the composite planetoid/comet called a centaur, just like the mythical half-horse, half-human character after which it is named. Chiron is an integrating energy that turns our wounds into blessings, our handicaps into our vocation, and asks us to make lemonade out of lemons. Just as mythical Chiron groomed many famous heroes like Jason of the Argonauts, the powerful Hercules, and Asclepius, the Father of Medicine: Chiron asks us to bring out the best in ourselves by resolving opposites within us. How do you like this metaphor? Chiron is located in space between Saturn and Uranus and acts like a bridging function between the two planets and what they symbolize.

Roots and Wings

There’s a wonderful saying I love:

Two great things you can give your children: one is roots, the other is wings. ~ Hodding Carter

(I’ve also heard it attributed to the famous inventor of the polio vaccine, Jonas Salk. You can tell it’s a great quote if people argue about who said it first.)

I think this never stops being true; adults need roots and wings as much as they did as children. When either of those forces becomes too overdone, the other energy demands reckoning.

I agree with Garrison Keillor that the ordinary life is a gift we all receive. If I were forced to choose one or the other, I’d have to take the ordinary life, even though the free spirit in me would begin to wither and die without expression.

From Either/Or to Both/And

Fortunately, we are not forced to choose. But this is something we often have to discover for ourselves. It reminds me of the game my parents played with me as a child. Little did they realize how potentially damaging it could have been to my sensitive psyche. “Who do you love best, Mommy or Daddy?” If I said Mommy, Daddy would pretend to cry. Vice-versa if I said Daddy. Asking children or adults to choose between roots and wings would be like asking them to pick Mommy or Daddy when they need both.

We are actually charged with integrating the opposites within us, including roots and wings. Chiron—and life itself—teaches us that joy exists in finding out where we are on a continuum. Everyone has this charge. The baby boomer generation perhaps has had the most stark life experience with it. Boomers grew up in the Ozzie and Harriet ‘50s only to have those ideals blown away as irrelevant, as we reached young adulthood in the ‘60s and ‘70s. Somewhere, we had to figure out where we fit between Doris Day and Janis Joplin.

Personally, I think the deeper our roots, the higher we can fly. We just have to be willing to face that initial discomfort of coming out from under our warm, down comforter on a freezing winter morning.

~~~

Photo credit: © Dolnikov | Fotolia.com

Want to learn more about Chiron and astrology? Joyce's new e-book is beginner-friendly and full of hints on how to turn lemons into lemonade, contribute your special gifts (vocation), and achieve fulfillment. Read more and/or purchase Chiron and Wholeness: A Primer on The Radical Virgo.

Intersections

When I took training in collaborative decision-making—a way to get groups to come to consensus—it became obvious to me that this is the only kind of solution that actually works. It involves giving up only what didn’t really matter to you, anyway, and becoming open-minded on how to get what does.

Solutions That Work for Everyone

In problem solving, if everyone doesn’t get something they can live with, they will sabotage the plan or simply not play. They’ll take their ball and go home. Nothing will improve. Status quo. Much ado about nothing. Time wasted.

Of course, we all know that finding common ground isn’t as easy as it sounds. It takes maturity—none of that dropping the ball stuff. Getting better at finding commonality, over time, is one of the gifts of experience. Success, joy, and happiness in life depend on learning to see where we intersect with others, where we can agree or design a new way to do things that’s OK with everyone involved.

Us ‘n’ Them is so much easier. No one has to put forth any effort except to dig themselves deeper into the rut they’re in and not move. Very little work is involved, especially of a mental or spiritual nature. You don’t have to expand your ideas, entertain the notion that you might not have the only—or even the best—solution. You get to sit on your butt. You don’t have to grow or worst of all, grow up.

Not only does this lack maturity and creativity, it is boring. It is so same-old, same old. Who needs it?

Imagine, instead, starting this chain reaction of vision, all around you: Now the highest part of everyone concerned, in whatever dilemma or challenge, will come up with a fabulous, creative solution, because you’ll let that essence of him and her out to play.

How do we create that environment?

A Safe, Creative, Comfortable Atmosphere

For starters, believe in the best in everyone—that we have a Higher Self able to do amazing things if s/he is simply set free. Identify the goals you want to achieve, and then trust that order will come out of chaos if you just allow group process to reveal itself without any help from you, thanks, especially if you’re the boss, parent, or a controller by nature. Chaos to order seems to be one of those odd pairs of opposites that occur in causal order when left alone. Think of the cacophony of potential sounds that blare in the head of a musical genius before they ultimately become a symphony. If you believe in the Bible, think of the original order out of chaos that only took a week.

Everyone has true genius when goodwill and a good setting are provided for troubleshooting. People love to solve problems and grapple with issues when they are safe, fed, comfortable, and their capabilities are held in high esteem.

One of the greatest gifts from my parents was their trust in my ability to figure things out for myself. “We know you’ll do the right thing, baby” was one of my mom’s mantras. I lived up to it.

In contrast, one of my friends had parents who didn’t trust her as far as they could throw her. They even had her followed and spied on. She lived down to their opinion of her.

Create environments with big intersections, places where people can easily discover their commonalities or become stimulated to consider new ideas and expand themselves till their lanes cross. I remember my excitement when I first learned the word synergy, the idea that the sum is equal to more than its parts. If two heads are better than one, imagine a room full of minds dancing. This atmosphere is best achieved where deadlines are reasonable, the stakes are high, and everyone stands to benefit from the best outcome. Comfort and ambience help-- anything that builds trust and bonding among the team members before or during their solution sessions.

This model can be applied between two people in a marriage, several in a family, lots in an organization—wherever two or more are gathered.

Where in your life can you build a road where intersections are plentiful and people get to a green light together?

What an alternative to road rage or gridlock.

~~~

Photo Credit: © Rudyumans Dreamstime.com

The Training Tape: Debut E- Book by Joyce Mason

Learn the power and perils of how you talk to yourself. Words matter.

Is “The Training Tape” just a short story or a channeled instruction book on how to live? Joyce is offering her first fiction e-book for the introductory price of only $3.00. See Pay Pal button near the top of the sidebar to purchase.

The scene: A woman is traveling by train, a getaway to sort out her sordid marriage—the one that only leaves her with terrible choices. Suddenly, something completely unexpected happens … and nothing is ever the same.

Is it a channeled instruction book on how to live? Even the author doesn’t know for sure. You be the judge.

~~~

Readers Write:

A thought-provoking, engaging read with Joyce's signature and special twists. This one is sure to grab your attention and not let go! -- EW, SF Bay Area

I love the flashback memories and the humour that subtly deliver an important message in such an enjoyable, easy read. They really give the story depth. It’s gripping, I enjoyed every minute of it! Recommended! – SB, United Kingdom

I STILL keep thinking about the punch line … thanks again for the reminder of being so careful about what we say to ourselves! –TW, Carmel, CA

Fear of Flying, Fear of Water, Fear of Flying on Water

I like the ground. As a Triple Earth in my astrological chart (Sun/Virgo, Moon/ Capricorn, Taurus Rising), the other three elements—air, water, and fire—have been scary to me at various times since childhood. Yet overcoming my fear of them was, in each case, a window to living a more spirited life. Here are some of my key adventures:

Fear of Flying (Air)

My first encounter with fear of flying came when I was only six years old. My dad’s boss liked to drive his personal car, a spiffy Cadillac, when he wintered in Florida. My dad’s tough assignment: Drive the boss’s car from Chicago to Florida with Mom and me, and then fly back, all expenses paid. From where I sit now, that sounds like the deal of a lifetime.

I’ll never forget the gentle way my parents told me about the offer. We’d all been taking an afternoon nap, and I awoke from mine and went into their bedroom to see if they were up. They were just ungluing the sleep from their eyes and I crawled into bed with them.

“What would you think about an airplane ride?” Mom asked.

I was so shocked by the possibility, out of the blue; I froze up. I never handled surprises well.

Dad explained the deal to me. Mom coaxed, cajoled, and told me I’d even get to take time off school, which actually did not appeal to her budding bookworm. Before they were done with this low-key sales pitch, I was screaming, bawling, and pitching a tantrum.

“I’m afraid, Mommy, I’m afraid!” I yelled. I would not settle down by way of logic or reintroduction of the idea over the next few weeks.

They didn’t want to force me into something that conjured such fear in me, so Plan B was born. We’d take the train back from Miami to Chicago.

Onboard, I had a most wonderful encounter with another young traveler my own age. I enjoyed every second of the two-day trip, every stop on the milk run, and every nook and cranny of the train. Train travel was “it” for me. My father, on the other hand, complained about that long train trip till the day he died.

Oddly enough, by the time the boss was ready for us to do him the favor again, only a year had passed … but something magical had happened to me in the meantime. My parents assumed we’d be back on the train again, but I said, “No, no! I want to go on the airplane.”

Sometimes if you leave will enough alone, both children and grown-ups mature into experiences that previously immobilized them with fear. My parents were smart not to force the issue, even if Dad didn’t exactly enjoy rail travel with the same passion as his darling daughter—a passion I have maintained to this day.

Fear of Water

My mom was afraid of water. She had good reason. When she was 13, she nearly drowned. Ever since then, she was very leery of this particular element. It was difficult not to “catch” her anxiety.

To make matters worse, I attended Catholic school and like most parochial schools in the 1950s, ours didn’t have the facilities or economic luxury of a physical education program, much less a pool. “P.E.” was running around on the playground, and, if you were lucky, your mom took you to one of the public pools during the summer that had cropped up in the suburbs. Mom wasn’t keen on water, so it was only when her best girlfriend could talk her into “taking the kids to the pool” that I ever got wet outside the bathtub.

Fear of Flying on Water (Air and Water)

When I was a pre-teen, my folks bought the cottage across the street from my Uncle Bob, Dad’s brother, who lived on a spring-fed lake in southwest Michigan. It was a three-hour drive, but we did it nearly every weekend during the summer. Uncle Bob had one of those spiffy, classic wooden Chris Craft boats. Everyone who lived on the lake shore water-skied. My cousin, Bob’s stepdaughter, who was a few years older than I was, skied like a pro. She could even slalom—ski on one ski. I wanted to ski in the worst way, but (a) I was afraid of water, and (b) I was not a jock given my lack of physical education. I was lucky to be able to I hopscotch, jump rope and play softball, all activities conducted safely on the ground.

Soon we had our own fiberglass boat, and my dad encouraged me to give it a whirl. I’ll never forget my mint green one-piece bathing suit, era-modest, and clinging to my nose plugs. Of course, I wore a life jacket. Even if Dad hadn’t insisted, my fear would have demanded it.

I couldn’t count the number of times he hit it, I got half way up, and then sank. His patience was legendary. We must have gone through this routine dozens of times over many weekends and our two-week vacation during the summer of my 12th year.

One day, all the failures just gave way and I rose on those skis to the top of the water. I was flying—on water! It didn’t last long the first time, but I gracefully skied to a stop while Dad circled around and picked me up. Once I had actually achieved “flying on water,” the rest was practice till I got actually half-way decent at it. In this era of my life, the right course was encouragement to keep trying to overcome fear and a sense of being out of my element—one trial at a time. As a not very physical person left to my own designs, this was one of the sweetest personal victories of my life. I can still feel the breeze in my hair and the wow of accomplishing something I was beginning to believe I simply would never be able to do.

Fear of Fire

I should explain that my fear of fire was more figurative than literal, although I never much cottoned to the personal handling of 4th of July firecrackers. I thought sparklers and punks were plenty, thank you. What I mean here is the heat of summer. On the physical level: I always had an intuitive red light against broiling my body on the beach, something that has saved me from the skin cancers plaguing many of my peers.

On the emotional level: The summer months often held my most intense growth experiences and my most painful losses. It got to the point that I hated to see summer coming. Not being a jock, and if I only could look forward to a new load of emotional pain, summer was not exactly my favorite season—and isn’t to this day. I didn’t relate to all those songs about the Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer or lines like, “It’s time to live and have some thrills.”

With time, I was lured into the mysteries of life. I learned from my first spiritual teacher in my late twenties that summer is the growing season. Spring sets up our lessons for learning during summer, and in autumn, we harvest their bounty. If we’re wise to the seasons, we use winter as a time to rest and recuperate before running another cycle of inner learning.

The lessons get gentler, too, as we grow. We don’t have to learn everything the hard way. We learn to put on sunscreen, buffers that protect us from overexposure to harmful rays, whether the sun’s or certain people’s negative vibes. We learn discernment—people, places, and things to avoid that will burn us.

I don’t know if it’s the magic of maturity, but I don’t have nearly the number of difficulties during the summer that I used to have as a kid—except for the fact that I chose to live somewhere that hits triple digits often during the season. I have lived here 36 years and don’t intend to move. You can’t say I haven’t learned to adapt to fire.


Elemental Balance

Our world is made up of the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. From an astrological perspective, each of us has a different elemental balance, which is a simple metaphor for the way we handle the parts of life the four elements represent. To give examples of each: earth (body, physicality), air (mental pursuits), fire (vitality), and water (feelings).

My elemental adventures spanned different eras of my life. I doubt that they are hard-wired into a certain age, but I suspect that the developmental sequence in handling fear is the same: avoidance (airplane), toe in water/begin to face fear (water skiing) and dealing with fears head-on while developing discernment (intense-growth summers).

It’s fun to learn your elemental make-up through astrology. Lots of fire, little water? Lots of air, no earth? Some people are evenly balanced. There’s metaphorical gold in finding out. Even if you don’t know how your elements fall in the system of astrology, you probably have or have had affinities to one or more of the four elements and discomfort with others. The elements have seasonal associations: spring (fire), summer (water), autumn (air) and winter (earth).

Maybe you still have trouble with one element. Overcoming your fear or messages of can’t-do might be for you like water skiing was for me—an accomplishment that taught me how to overcome fear and limitation thanks to one patient father.

The larger Father/Mother—or however you perceive Spirit—is infinitely patient with us as we seek to become all that we can be. What a great universe where season follows season and we have so many cycles of growth and opportunity. Some day you’ll wake up, no matter what time of year, and know no matter where you are or whatever the weather: you’re in your element.

~~~

Photo Credit: LEARNING TO SKI © Jlumley Dreamstime.com

Happy Blog ReBirthday!

Celebrate Spirited Living

Broader Scope, Same Cool Insights
As promised in my

Reconstruction Zone

post, today is the rebirthday of this blog. Welcome to the new Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights!

Once aimed primarily at baby boomers, Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights now emphasizes practical spirituality, women’s issues, and the development of our intuitive gifts as guidance, what some people call “women’s intuition.” Not just women have or want to develop their sensitivities; men on this wavelength are welcome here with enthusiasm.

There are no age limits on a lifestyle that runs the full gamut of emotions and experience. This blog is about full-tilt living. The directions for finding our way and getting the most out of life involve learning to read the signs: synchronicity or meaningful coincidences, symbols both waking and dreaming, and how to weave those universal or cosmic hints into a synthesis of “getting it.” I call that the sort-it details.

Definitions
I get regular key word searches leading to this site from people who are asking the question, “What are hot flashbacks?” What a perfect time to define the title terms of this blog.

While a hormonal transition may have intensified my “hot flashbacks,” menopause was only a triggering mechanism. Many readers assume this phrase refers to “the change,” but that’s incidental. I had hot flashbacks before, during, and after my hormonal crash. (Whew!) Here’s the hot ‘n’ cool of it:

Hot Flashbacks – Moments in your past that light up in your
mind and yell at you at the decibel level of a four-alarm fire,
This incident is significant!

Cool Insights – You “get” in the present: the pattern, purpose, or meaning of the experience or experiences that your mind has lit up for you.

Hot flashbacks and cool insights go together, hand in glove. They are those light bulb moments that lead to deep understanding, as well as personal and spiritual growth.

Since I’m changing directions midstream, I want to share why. Here’s the back-story about what brought me to this new slant. You’ll find—no surprise!—it was a hot flashback and a cool insight.

Too Close to See It
I started this blog at the suggestion of a literary agent to complement my memoir, also called Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights. The agent thought a blog would be a great way for me to start gaining an audience for my writing in this genre. (Memoir was new to me.) I had many loyal readers of my past articles in astrology, flower essences and on other spiritual development tools and topics. I saw myself going more for a mainstream audience—seeking new readers who didn’t know me by prior reputation or works.

Like most memoirs, mine has episodes from various eras of my life, dowsed with the humor that helped me live through them. My book has three parts: Hormonic Convergence, about the cancer scare and emergency hysterectomy that took my already smoldering intuition over the top. While crashing into surgical menopause spread the bonfire of my sensitivities, the real flames I discovered were in the theme of my life—passion. Flashbacks on Passion is the middle section about my most formative life experiences involving passions of every kind from the heat of young hormones to right work—writing, my life’s passion. Sexagenaria recounts my struggles as my physical fire began to wane somewhat. In this section, I pondered how to keep the fires stoked to live a sizzling life all the way to the finish line.

With the book ending as Social Security was in sight for me and given boomers are a huge percentage of the population, this stage of life seemed like a logical focus for this blog. I figured other boomers would want to share discoveries about how to explode the old Old. (Consider the alternative!) Besides, boomers buy a ton of books and are “the” sought-after demographic with money to spend.

In the end, the universe had other plans for me. The details are too long to get into here, but I got crystal clear direction that I was missing the point of my own book. My GPS or God Positioning System works with those same tools I mentioned: synchronicity, signs, and symbols. It keeps “telling me where to go.”

I wasn’t supposed to give up my spiritual orientation in writing about my life or life in general. Spirituality has been my area of expertise for decades. In fact, there are existing posts on this site where I’ve talked about it plenty, but I just didn’t “get” that this was the point. My inner guidance? Come out of the closet, put it out there, and draw my core audience. Wow. So close to it, it went right over my head.

There was also a practical consideration. Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights was not growing at the rate I’d hoped as a boomer blog. Prior to the nudge I got about changing this blog’s focus, I got an unexpected inspiration to start an astrology blog. I had been away from astrology in any formal sense since 2002. When The Radical Virgo overtook Hot Flashbacks in hits and unique visitors less than three months after I launched it, I could not ignore the light bulb: I play the symbols. It’s my gift to share. That’s why Hot Flashbacks is rededicated to seeing, hearing, and feeling those directions that are right in front of us—you know, the kind I had missed myself at the beginning of this blog.

Even though I finished my book almost a year ago, I have been dragging my feet on pursuing publication. Now I’m glad I did, because this redirection is right for Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights—both the book and blog.


New Quote, New Slogan
While I’m redefining this blog and defining some of the terms bandied around on it, I’d like to do the same for the new slogan:

Live a Spirited Life! Look both ways for signs at the crossroads.

We encounter many crossroads every day of our lives. Some of them add up to huge intersections, where we get to make big decisions about our life’s direction. We simply need to look around for the hints at every crosswalk. The signs are posted. Some of them, I’ve already mentioned and will define further:

Synchronicity. Synchronicity or meaningful coincidences show us how life is supposed to hum. When synchronicities are popping, life is in harmony. They are direct signals that you’re headed in the right direction. You run into that person you haven’t been able to get out of your mind. The lyrics to a song on the radio “solve” a dilemma and dissolve your angst. You need a good repairperson for a major household disaster. Before you can even ask around for emergency referrals, a trusted friend starts talking about a great worker who just finished a project at her house. Oh, and he exceeded all expectations at the right price.

Signs. Many signs in life direct us to full, rich living, if we have the eyes to see—and if you’re a little nearsighted at the moment, don’t worry. This type of vision can be developed. (For some tips, read these previous posts:

Insighting a Riot and Believe Everything You Hear.) There are many types of signs—dreams, waking symbols that come to you—and of those you seek out. Symbol systems such as astrology, tarot, and other oracles can enlighten you when you’re looking for guidance.

Sort-It Details. We’re lucky when insight comes spontaneously, like combustion, but in real life, getting the point of our experiences usually takes a lot of self-reflection, thought, and analysis. Journaling is one of the key ways to do it, but, hopefully, this blog will be a forum where we can share how we “go figure.”

Spirited Living! One of my favorite parts of Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert’s blockbuster memoir, is the scene where life literally brings her to her knees. She discovers her personal, direct relationship with God and apologizes in advance to people who don’t see Him/Her/It in exactly the same way. Same here. I like to use terms that are as generic as possible when talking about spirituality, knowing how loaded language can be around people’s beliefs. I respect all paths and take wisdom wherever I find it. My personal orientation is universal, yet personal—kind of like Tevye talking to God directly in Fiddler on the Roof. Even if you don’t believe in anything bigger than the human spirit, the same fire leads to lively living.

Quote: Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards. I discovered the Kierkengaard quote in the Hot Flashbacks banner by synchronicity: Someone had posted it on Twitter. What a testimony to why we look back to understand the past to live well in the moment and create a positive future.

Bringing It Down to Earth
One of the most important factors in looking Up for guidance is bringing the information back down to earth. That’s why grounding and practicality are my guideposts when I “play the symbols.” I write on this blog about everyday life: how we can get the most out of what we experience. How to live well, play fair, and enjoy our stopover on this beautiful planet.

If we forget this, dabbling in all this “sign language” can leave us looking like a caricature of what I call a smiley-faced metafoofoo—someone who speaks in tongues of platitudes but hasn’t woven the principles into making their life work better. I’m all for feet on the ground and “value added.” I write from the synthesis of using the tools of spirited living. Often I don’t even mention them. I just share the results, like the answer to a math problem, without all the figures and head scratching. The tools are always in the background, but the bottom line is how they make life better.

Boomer Features
I’ll keep a recurring “cool saging” feature for the generation I’m proud to be a part of. After all, much of what I know is because I have lived long and have had a wealth experience as teacher. In addition to these occasional posts and keeping a Boomer Links List, I’m a founding member of Boomer Authority on Twitter. I have volunteered to monitor posts on the topic of spirituality.

It’s Not About the Stage of Life; It’s About the Stage of Light
Welcome readers young, older, and in-between. If light is your goal—both ongoing learning and lightening up with humor—I hope you’ll find plenty of juice on this blog. I seek to create a light socket, a power source. Thank you for being part of my transmission grid!

As we share here, may we spread a lot of light and Spirited Living.

OK, light’s covered--candles are lit—but we can’t have a rebirthday party without gifts:

The past is a gift; it has the answers for the future. That’s the present.

~~~

Photo Credit: SIGN BOARD © Picstudio Dreamstime.com

Comment Contest! Don’t forget the Blog Comment Contest

through Friday. Comment to enter a drawing for a women writers’ mystery anthology, including Joyce’s humorous offering, “Digital.” See sidebar for special, additional prizes to the first three people who comment on this rebirthday post.

The Other Mothers

Have you ever noticed how some of the best “moms” on earth couldn’t—or didn’t—have biological children? I was raised by one. Here’s an irony that proves you can “inherit” something by adoption: I am one, too.

My mom’s “barrenness” was the lingering wound of her lifetime. What an ugly, archaic word. No wonder she felt terrible about it. I’m not sure “infertility” is any better. Is there really a neutral word?

Mom was Italian-American, a culture built around children and family. I was adopted back in the days when my origins were kept secret—even from me. I know my parents meant well, despite the damage “hiding myself” would ultimately do. They didn’t want people to treat me differently. I also think there was a strong measure of self-protection. Mom didn’t want to be booted out of the Mother’s Club, even in someone else’s mind, or worst of all, her own.

If you’ve ever witnessed a good adoption, or another form of people raising children that are not of their body, you know that bonding often has little to do with genetics. Children are born of relationships that are not biological (hopefully!). Two unrelated people bond, and from this strong merger, their children are created, a bit of both of them. If it weren’t for the non-bio relationship, given our incest taboo, there wouldn’t be any children of the biological kind.

Dad didn’t tell mom for a long time that the aftermath of an infection she incurred, followed by an operation to remove a scarred fallopian tube and ovary on opposite sides, meant that she could never have children. Mom was squeamish to begin with and barely had an eighth-grade education. She wasn’t big on understanding or focusing on medical details. She did not question the years of trying without success or relate them to this event. Dad could not bear to tell her; her dreams were dashed. They were already raising my brother, a nephew adopted within the family. He was much older than I was, and Mom still longed for “children of her own.”

One of the most poignant chapters of my memoir recounts the day, at 18, when I told my parents I had known for 10 years that I was adopted. Mom’s was wistful, talking about her sorrow that she could never get pregnant. “But if we had been able to have kids of our own, we wouldn’t have you, baby.” I’ll never forget how she beamed and how he held my hand.

However you perceive Ultimate Creativity, Spirit often brings us family in forms way more imaginative than biology alone—which you have to admit, is one of the most innovative and amazing processes in the universe. My children have come in nieces, nephews, and fur kids and an assortment of other special relationships with younger humans and animals of all ages.

“It makes me sad that some kids missed having you for a mother,” my husband once said when the subject came up. It wasn’t in the cards, and it was nearly as big a heartbreaker for me as it was for my mom. But that never stopped me from nurturing, adoring children, and applying that mom energy in other ways. Abundantly. It’s probably the “damming” of that energy that causes non-biological moms to let it spill over into their other nurturing relationships.

I have a unique vantage point for viewing motherhood. One of my moms abandoned me; the other one smothered me. I had a lot to overcome, and finding my birth mom in my late thirties was the beginning of deep healing for my original mom and me. Out of respect for the mom that raised me, I couldn’t even admit to myself that I had needed to know my birth mom till my adoptive mom was gone.

Ultimately, I got to merge my two moms in my mind and heart and to see how nature and nurture both influenced my life. I became close to my birth mom, too. Our families merged and love one another. But frankly, I will always feel closest to the mom who “did the job.” When I found out at the tender age of eight that I was adopted and tried to process that blow, I could not believe I was not of my mom’s body.

Closeness—perhaps best represented by when we hug—is a desire to merge in a body-and-soul way with another person. Mother and child in pregnancy represent the most physical form of this merger.

Yet, as I have lost loved ones, I have learned that no matter how sweet, the physical bond has certain limits. Now I can conjure all my loved ones in my mind and heart, any time of day or night. It’s the only way I have access to them. I did that sometimes when they were “in a body,” but not nearly as often. Why connect in mind/spirit when I could get a hug and their physical presence?

We carry our mothers in our minds, anyway, sometimes admonishing us, sometimes cheering us on. The most important thing we can know about nurture is that it is limitless, it is without form, it is love in its purest sense …

… it comes from the heart and soul, even if we often use—and crave—our bodies to express it.

~~~

Photo: Mom and me, 1948

Spring: New Beginnings, New Blog!

Baby boomers should kiss Spring like a long-lost cousin. Every Spring, we get a new chance at life!

Spring is the “natural new year,” the time to plant the figurative seeds for what we want to grow more of in our lives between March 20, 2009 and March 19, 2010. The dormant season of winter is over. It’s time to sow our creations, whether they involve love, health, wealth, a new project, or a new point of view.

Nature doesn’t run on the Gregorian calendar. As I’ve said before in other posts, we have been off-cycle with the seasons in our January-December way of marking time for 500 years. None of us knows how many new years we have left, whether we’re 18 or 80. So, let’s make the most out of the powerful planting season spring represents and do a Cool Insights Exercise on what we want to manifest for the Natural New Year.

Exercise: Planting Your Seeds of Growth
In this activity, you’re going to create a seed packet. I like to use colored envelopes the size that fit a standard greeting card. Even if you’ve got some “plain vanilla” leftover envelopes from cards you’ve received, that’s OK, because our next step is redecorating!

Draw, paint, or collage onto your envelope whatever inspires you. You can name your seed packet for a project or something high on your list of things you want to manifest: Love Seeds, Prosperity Seeds, or in my case, the name of my new blog, The Radical Virgo. (More on that below.)

Now, find yourself some slips of paper—whatever appeals to you. My friends and I have used colorful ones, round ones, plain ones. On these, you’ll write your metaphorical seeds for growth. Take some serious, quiet, and contemplative time to do this exercise. It’s the reverse of the winter “burning bowl.” Instead of burning what you want to get rid of, these pieces of paper will contain the fiery seeds of your new beginnings.

Place your packet in a special place—your altar, nightstand, near your computer—wherever you’ll see it often enough to remind you of what you’ve planted—what you want to grow and expand this year. I take my seeds out often and look at them thoughtfully to see how they’re growing. You can also “plant” them--put them in a special box or a pot. Whatever makes the metaphor real for you.

A few tips:

~~ Seeds are simple. Keep to a few words or small phrases.

~~ If you are tempted to plant many seeds, as they germinate, you will “thin them out,” so that the most robust ones have the opportunity to grow to the fullest. Few of us can do in one year all the things we “plant” in spring, and it’s OK to set aside seeds that naturally seem to need more time to germinate.

~~At Summer Solstice, we will look at the seeds again, and I’ll talk about them in a post. The idea is to see how they bloom; then at autumn equinox, we can see what’s ready for harvest.

To give you an idea how the planting and culling process works: I just checked my seed packet from 2008. Of my eight seeds, one has grown into a plant—my completed book—and I’m making major progress on four others. Two need to germinate longer, and I have let one go, recognizing it isn’t important at this time.

Making Seasonal Sense
In my Calendar New Year post, Things to Bear in Mind as We Round 2009, I talked about how we need to slow down, even hibernate like a bear in winter. If you did not take that rest, don’t be surprised if your energy doesn’t rise with the tree sap as quickly as you’d like. It’s not too late to reverse it! Put on some eye shades and block out the growing light while you make up for lost winter nap time. You’ll be happy you did when your energy level bounces back for the effort. A little down time in late winter/early spring means a lot more bounce between now and the Summer Solstice in the third week of June. You’ll have high energy!

If, like me, you resemble Sneezy the Dwarf this time of year, it’s time to have a summit conference with your sensitivities, the flowers and trees—and your medicine cabinet. I hope you won’t make my perennial mistake of allowing myself to be miserable rather than to take some medication, natural or prescribed. I have missed some of the best of the spring season by being unwilling to put on my big girl pants and take my medicine. Allergies sap your energy. A head that feels like it’s about to explode will not be able to focus on gathering seed energy for a creative burst. Congestion is not conducive to springing forward into the new.

Joyce’s New Astrology Blog
Speaking of new: For those interested in or curious about astrology, please visit my new blog, The Radical Virgo. It launches with its first full post on March 21 to catch the spirit of the Equinox seed energy. Until then, there are a couple of short posts and a link to an article I wrote for Inner Sanctuary blog, “Your Cosmic Tractor Beam.” It explains how and why like-minded people are drawn together.

I am very excited that I have been guided back to writing about astrology, guidance which has been coming slowly into my consciousness over the past six months. While I am unlikely to do individual astrology readings in the future (I have been retired from that work since 2003), astrology will always remain a tool that has brought me closer to the Divine and to understanding the magnificent workings of the universe—everyone and everything that’s a part of it. I love writing about it and the lively exchanges among my fellow star trekkers. (Ironically, the woman who used to do a Star Trek radio show and headed the William Shatner fan club was also named Joyce Mason.)

In the near future, I’ll be posting an article in the SkyHints Sidebar for people whose experience of astrology is primarily reading their horoscope in the newspaper. Newspaper horoscopes are a very limited version of what astrology has to offer, so for those who have an inkling that “there’s more out there,” I hope to give you a taste of how most modern astrologers use their knowledge of the sky as positive a psycho-spiritual tool. Psychiatrist Carl Jung used astrology extensively in his practice.

Meanwhile, I hope blogging in two “solar systems” here on Hot Flashbacks and The Radical Virgo just continues to make me a better writer and blogger and doubles the benefits to my readers. This is one of the spring seeds I’m planting. Let’s share how both yours and mine bloom in summer, then reap their fruits at the autumn harvest. Hope to hear a lot of “seedy” comments, now and in the future!

Happy Natural New Year! Hoe-hoe-hoe!

~~~

For those who also want to plant the real thing this spring, here are a few seedlinks: Burpee (largest and oldest), Seeds of Change (organic), and Victory Seed Company (heirloom).

Winter Solstice

• I have been doing celebrations at the change of seasons since 1988—twenty years of honoring the cycles of life. Since I’m Santa Claus at heart, it’s no surprise how much I love winter and all the wonderful celebrations from various spiritual traditions that merge into a time of blessings and good humor.

What’s a Solstice?
The word solstice is derived from two Latin words: sol, which means sun and sistere, to stand still. Winter Solstice is one of the two days a year when the Sun stands still. At Summer Solstice, the sun reaches its highest elevation, on or about June 21, our longest day. At Winter Solstice around December 21, the sun is at its lowest height and we experience the longest night of the year. (These dates refer to the solstices in the Northern Hemisphere. In the Southern Hemisphere, the two solstices are exchanged—winter in June, summer in December.) Implied in the solstice standstill is a moment of pause before a significant shift.

Why Celebrate?
Various cultures the world over have celebrated the Winter Solstice for many thousands of years. Winter Solstice observes the beginning of the solar year and rebirth of the sun. Many assume that while the exact date of Jesus’ birth is unknown, there is no accident that the ancient Christian Church selected December 25 to celebrate Christmas. (Based on the astronomical data of the time and reports of the Star of David, believed to be the conjunction or coming together of several planets in the sky, Jesus was much more likely born closer to spring, probably in March.) Winter Solstice was already a day of celebration. As Ellen Jackson conjectures in the children’s book, The Winter Solstice, “It might as well be Christmas, too.” Winter Solstice is much more ancient. It is also known as Yule, and it has many things in common with Christmas, starting with the parallels in the homonyms Sun/Son and the warmth and salvation the birth and rebirth of Light brings to the world.

If Yule captivates you, give yourself a Google little Solstice and check out some of the amazing facts, prayers, meditations, and ceremonies connected with this ancient feast. I won’t focus on them here, because there is a true festival of information right at your fingertips.

I want to do three things in this post: introduce you to one of my favorite solstice myths and walk you through two things I do at every Winter Solstice ceremony that you can do to celebrate the Solstice at home.

Raven Festival
I say often how I find inspiration in many places, and one of my favorite winter myths is from the Alaskan Inuit. I learned their winter solstice story in an episode of one of my all-time favorite TV shows, Northern Exposure. Picture Marilyn, Dr. Joel Fleischman’s secretary, telling this tale, then later in the episode, seeing the natives of Cicely, Alaska portray it as a play:

A long time ago, the raven looked down from the sky and saw that the people of the world were living in darkness. A ball of light was kept hidden by a selfish old chief. So the raven turned himself into a spruce needle and floated on the river where the chief's daughter came for water. She drank the spruce needle. She became pregnant and gave birth to a boy who was the raven in disguise. The baby cried and cried until the chief gave him the ball of light to play with. As soon as he had the light, the raven turned back into himself. The raven carried the light into the sky. From then on, we no longer lived in darkness.

What captivates me about spirituality is how every “flavor” of it repeats the same universal themes, especially a Light in the sky or from the sky that keeps us out of the dark and changes everything.

Burning the Old
I first did a burning bowl ceremony at my local Unity Church. The idea is to write on slips of paper whatever you want to get rid of in your life, whether it’s twenty pounds, a bad attitude or your anger toward your ex-husband. The women in my Solsisters group write fast and furiously in this segment of our Winter Solstice get-together, often scribbling into overtime. I can’t help but be amused sometime at all the catharsis and wrists flying. They line up and burn the paper in the fire. Like confession is good for the soul, dumping old burdens works in this form, too.

Ceremony of Recognition
One year, I realized there was something missing—something we needed to do to complement Burning the Old. We needed to recognize the accomplishments we had each made in the past year. We burn what we want to let go … but how do we memorialize or make permanent what we want to keep?

In the Ceremony of Recognition, we take another few minutes to write down what we feel we accomplished, completed … anything we each feel we deserve to recognize or thank ourselves for. I think many of you will agree that women tend to do too little of this. So here’s a meditation you can use to do your own recognition ceremony. Have pen and paper ready when you’re set to go:

Meditation

Take a three deep breaths and center yourself. Feel at one with Earth.

Now, look at yourself in the Year 2008.

-- What was your proudest accomplishment?
-- What baby steps did you take toward something new?
-- What giant leaps?
-- What did you do that you deserve credit for?
-- How did others recognize you?
-- How did others not recognize you in ways you wish they would have?
-- How were you disappointed? (It is important to recognize our disappointments.)
-- If 2008 had a name or a title phrase, what would it be?

Candlelighting Ceremony
Our Winter Solstice celebration always culminates with passing the light. We each light individual candles, igniting them from each other’s candle, passed down the line. Then we hold them up to show how our lights, merged, light up the entire room—just as the light of our spirits, when joined for good, light up the world.

I hope Winter Solstice is just the beginning of a blessed Yuletide season for you. This year’s theme at my house is the Magical Child Within. I like hosting Winter Solstice, so I can continue to soak up the warmth the Solsisters create that night through the New Year.

I want to end with two quotes, one that honors the eternal child within us and another that honors the sage stage of life represented by the baby boomers who read this blog:

“Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.” –Victor Hugo

“For the unlearned, old age is winter; for the learned it is the season of harvest.” --The Talmud

---

Notes: Visit these previous posts for more information on Winter Solstice and celebrating the seasons. This Year’s Solstice Moment, when the Sun Enters Capricorn: Dec. 21, 4:04a PDT (adjust for your time zone in the US or World).

Happy Birthday, Hot Flashbacks!

The Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights blog was born on September 17, 2007 at 10:43 pm with my first post, “Boomer's Hot Flashbacks Contain Instructions for a Cool Rest of Her Life.”
I’d like to invite you to our baby’s first birthday party. Our baby. A blog is a community. Ours is just a toddler, but it’s starting to walk!


Conception
I won a five-minute pitch meeting with agent Laurie McLean of Larsen-Pomada Literary Agents in a random drawing at my Sisters in Crime meeting in September 2007. She recommended that I start a blog to begin finding an audience for my work, while I finished my memoir. I took her suggestion and ran with it. I’m still running, but like I said, the baby is just starting to walk.

Birth Chart
Hottie-Cool (HC for short), our baby blog, has an astrology chart, just like the rest of us. She’s a Virgo with a Sag Moon and Gemini Rising. If she were a real person, that’d make her way chatty! With Jupiter conjunct her Moon in Sagittarius, she’d be fond of hyperbole. (Do you think she exaggerates? Her “mom” sure has stories that must sound like it, stranger than fiction.) Oh, and she loves to have fun!

Not to astro-babble too much for those not familiar with the lingo, but I think you’ll appreciate two other points. First, her Moon/Jupiter is on the 7th house cusp of relationships. That tells you the heart of this blog—connection. Second, Neptune is on the Midheaven. This blog’s job, if you will, is consciousness and things like intuition and dreams and creating psychic links. Put it all together and you’ve got us linked in consciousness, communicating about it, and having fun. Just what I had in mind. Hope it works for you!

Milestones
Since it was brand spankin’ new, there have been 39 posts covering many diverse topics besides my memoir (progress reports and excerpts). Some of the other topics include women’s circles, celebrating the seasons, gratitude, patience and faith, pets, intuition, flower essences, loss and love, the four elements, meaningful coincidences and dreams.


The Numbers
Although I’ve only been tracking blog statistics for two months, a profile of Hot/Cool readers and their visiting habits is starting to emerge.

Over the past month, Hot Flashbacks has had 378 page views by 88 distinct visitors. They come from all over: 10 countries and 4 continents with the most visits from the US, UK, and Canada. In the US, most visitors come from my home State of California followed by Pennsylvania, Iowa, and Oregon. The majority of visitors read two or more pages during an average 1-2 minute visit. Sixty-five percent are returning visitors.

Since most readers land on the Home Page, it is the most frequently visited page. However, it has ever-changing content, and visits are not reported by which post is displayed at the time of landing. The home page is followed, in order, by these specific posts: Memoir Evolution, Boomers Hot Flashbacks Contain Instructions for a Cool Rest of Her Life, Edgar Allan Poet and Happy Autumn Equinox, with It’s Done! and Yellow Highlighter tied for 5th place. So if you’ve missed any of these popular destinations, pay a visit to these links to find out why they’re in the Top 5. Check the past post list, too. There may be other topics you’ll be glad you discovered.

Future Outlook
To help this kid go from toddler to walking upright on two legs without teetering, HC needs your support and encouragement. You are the aunties and uncles whose job it is to pitch the cheeks of our little blog now ‘n’ then and say, “My how you’ve grown.” More than that, you’ve got to talk to the little tyke. That means jump in and make more Comments …

… and if you’re too shy to do it in the blogosphere, send me an e-mail, where we can do it in private, one-on-one: hotflashbacks@gmail.com.

I can attest, though, the public thing doesn’t hurt at all-- honest! I blabbed on this blog 39 times, and no one has come after me with a straightjacket, one of those butterfly nets, or called the paddy wagon, as my mom used to say. And if you’re afraid you might make a fool of yourself, take it from one who has been there and transformed it. Read the post Blunders to Blessings.

Thanks
Most of all, this post is a big thank-you for your support during my first year of blogging. It was always my dream to write a column. I would have called it Life in the Vast Lane … but blogging has taken the old concept of the newspaper or magazine column to new heights of unlimited potential. I hope you’ll continue to help me raise HC to be a vibrant source of inspiration, connection, and a place where all readers, especially the baby boomer generation, can keep mentally sharp, spiritually in tune, and physically up for blowing up the old Old.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering what to get the baby blog for her birthday? Referrals. Lots of them. She can never have too many people drop in to say hello or Happy Birthday. Link to your web sites and blogs. Tell your friends!

Edgar Allan Poet

“Quoth the Raven, ‘Nevermore.’”
--Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

The title of this post followed me home like a lost puppy. I knew it was a message from my GPS—God Positioning System—telling me I was supposed to go somewhere with this idea fragment.

As the poster girl for Follow Your Inner Guidance, I trusted and allowed myself to get sucked into the adventure. Here is what I’ve pieced together, so far.

Tracking the Mystery
Edgar Allan Poe was indeed a poet, among other things. I never knew he was credited with creating the detective-fiction writing genre, one I dabble in. (I like to say I write M-in-M’s for memoir, inspiration, and mystery.)

Mostly, he wrote a lot of dark, macabre stuff—also a lot about mourning. Not only have I experienced a lot of losses in the last year; I also realized this week how much I miss writing poetry. It was great to reconnect with some poets at a recent writers’ conference and to get reacquainted with my own poems. I wrote many of them in the ‘70s, when a number of them were published in various literary journals. I was into the local poetry scene, enjoyed reading my work at coffee houses, and taught in the Poetry in the Schools program.

I even met my first husband at a poetry reading. He was an angry heckler. When I moved into his building a few months later—a big surprise to us both—he was so nice to me, I didn’t even recognize him as the awful guy from that night. When he copped to it, I thought he had to be kidding. Love is blind.

Back to my visit from the muse bearing the nagging words in my head, “Edgar Allan Poet.” I suspect her point was stop mourning and start celebrating poetry again. How did I get to “nevermore” when it came to poems? I used to be ravenous about the genre. Heaven knows, I can always be reached by wordplay if all else fails or I have accidentally turned off my GPS.

Maybe I’ll start on the road back to poetry by sharing one of my poems from my archives with you. I found a more recent one (only 10 years old instead of 30). It even has a boomer theme. Here goes:

Poem by Joyce Mason

To My Childhood Friend at 50…

Where did the time go …
the bus stop …
old neighborhood …
avoiding Fran in the cafeteria …
dances at the ‘Y’, raging hormones, neuroses… acne?

Adolescence merged maturity,
not so much an off-ramp as an artery,
just another turn in the road,
a road not taken by most of us at heart
(we’re called baby boomers):
Mid-youth
gray hair
menopause.

Did you get your card from AARP?
Did you think you’d see the day?
Yet there is a freedom here:
a time to re-evaluate
to quit worrying over meaningless things
to know that we won’t be
in this bottleneck forever …

… and that, too, is a godsend.

Now, for the dreams not realized:
we still have time to catch up
without killing ourselves.

Before we go:
a book for me,
the starring performance for you …


… but above all, knowing
that if life is measured
by the friends we choose
and love we gain
we’re on the expressway
together
in the car pool lane.


Quote the Maven, Evermore
It’s clear; I still love poetry. Lots of people don’t, but poetry is all around us—songs, jingles, prayers, an especially good comeback. Some precocious pearl that pops from the lips of a child. Poetry all.

I’d love to hear your comments on poetry and things poetic—even if it’s only poetic justice. It doesn’t need rhyme or reason.

Think about this, too. Have you have said “nevermore” to certain passions of the past? Is it time to reconsider?

Memoir “Evolution”

A memoir is how one remembers one's own life,
while an autobiography is history, requiring research,
dates, facts double-checked. It is more about what can be gleaned

from a section of one's life than about the outcome of the life as a whole.

--Gore Vidal


When I first started writing Hot Flashbacks, Cool Insights circa 1996: I didn’t even realize it was a memoir. I wasn’t familiar with the genre. I’m not sure I had ever read one. Autobiography, yes. Memoir, no.

Good thing my busy life forced me to back burner the book for many years till I had the time to figure out what I was doing. A few years ago, I ratcheted up my learning curve. My book wrote itself, once I understood the purpose and perspective of its “type.” I quickly found out--memoir is just my type!

I’m here to tell you, it just might be your type, too. As a genre, memoir has been extremely popular over the past ten years. You used to have to be famous to sell one. Now you just have to have led an interesting life. It helps, too, if you’re funny. Some of today’s best selling memoir writers and their stories are hilarious—David Sedaris, Augusten Burroughs, and John Grogan, to name a few.

Memoirs aren’t necessarily just fun and games. They often reach into the deepest pockets of who we are, pulling out illuminating our personal mysteries and our unique learning about life and living. Two of my favorite memoirists in this camp are Elizabeth Gilbert and Anne Lamott. This isn’t to say that their books aren’t also sometimes sprinkled with funny.

I pitch my tent in both camps, deep and funny, in Hot Flashbacks. But here’s the part that may be just a smidge radical. I also make a pitch in my book for you to pitch your tent, too, for a genuine memoir campout.

Huh?

Hot Flashbacks is a memoir sandwich. There’s the usual meaty memoir in the middle, but it has a couple of extra components you can think of as bread, because they are food for thought. In the Foreword, Coming Attractions, I suggest why it is important for as many baby boomers as possible to write or otherwise record their memoirs. In the Resources, I give readers a jumpstart with information on how they can do that.

To explain:

The real boom in the baby boom is a big blast of insight that periodically explodes over the heads of individuals from one the transitional generations of all time. Imagine what we could do if we combined those ahas!

It isn’t new for “elders” to record their life stories for posterity. What differs now is the sheer volume and timing for the trend to take off. Boomers represent 28 percent of the US population. The Me Generation has always loved to talk about itself. Why not ride the wave of the current memoir craze, which has been cresting for years with no end in sight.

So many people reaching the wisdom years at once is more than a brain trust. It’s nearly an embarrassment of riches. Boomers have the ability to share what they’ve learned about making life meaningful—not just with other people supposedly entering the golden years—but with people of all ages. Hot Flashbacks isn’t just a memoir. I hope it’s the start of a movement.

An “evolution.”

In the ‘60s, many boomers were into revolution—the counterculture— breaking down old structures to give birth to something perceived as better. Positive change would never happen without the occasional shake-up and reexamination of where we’re stuck as a society. How we create change is as important as change itself.

Evolution is a quieter, organic, step-by-step form of doing the same thing. My boomer memoir “evolution” takes the courage to share yourself, warts and all. To show what you have learned through your personal evolutionary process for the benefit of all.

Our world definitely needs your knowledge and experience for cultural enrichment. I want to reclaim the practice of indigenous people over the world, whose elders share their wisdom with their tribe. I call this indi-genius.

Maybe we don’t want to be called elder or anything that smacks of the old Old. But how could we object to sharing our smarts—our insights? To make a better world?

That’s why I have changed it to an acronym and now call us the ME (More Experienced) Generation.

Read a memoir, eventually mine when it’s in print. And while you’re at it, start making notes for yours.

Join the Evolution!

***

Photo: Joyce Before 60+ Years of Personal Evolution. Taken at Living Treasures Animal Park in Donegal, PA—July 2008.

Where Are My Christmas Cards?

As a communication and connection junkie, I mourn the loss of my Christmas cards. At eight days before Santa, I have received only seven. The Ghost of Christmas Past: I used to get nearly 50. Nobody loves me; everybody hates me; think I’ll eat some worms.

Not really, but I will pout. Maybe e-mail and more constant communication makes them redundant in most modern relationships. Then there’s the eco-factor. I design my own and do a well-thought-out annual newsletter. My generic missive is more personal than most people’s one-on-ones. Still, I convert them to .pdf files and e-mail them to many people, especially those halfway ‘round the world. It’s not just the postage saved; it’s the energy for the transportation. At least I know I’ll save the equivalent of any pine branches I use to decorate. Not everyone is a creativity machine, and I’d be happy to receive store-bought cards well chosen.

There is something about the art and sentiment in these once-a-year offerings that I sorely miss, now that most of them are gone. Some people find family letters impersonal; I think they’re fabulous. No one has time to write to 20 people once a year, forget more often. The generic news and a note—even a real signature!—give me enough personal touch to gush with gratitude.

It’s really about connection. These tiny bits of cardstock, ink, or computer printout mean you want to keep me. I’m a keeper! There are relationships I truly value that are Christmas Card Companions. Even though we only connect once every 365 days, this custom honors the important place we still hold for each other in our lives. Often separated by miles and years of going down different paths, the annual card is old home week, a balm, a sense of continuity. I love them for that. They are personal history come home to give you a kiss under the mistletoe. They cause me to reflect where I’ve last been since I saw Art & Michele, Lynne, Judy—people who represent my young adulthood, college days, and Catholic grammar school era respectively.

If you want an exercise in stimulating your own hot flashbacks that can lead to cool insights, compile copies of your past holiday letters and look where you’ve been and what you’ve reported for the past 5-10 years—or however many you have kept. If you’ve got time, and if you also have the gene for packrat, my family curse, read others’ old cards and Christmas letters. You know, the ones you have saved with that wrapping paper that is so old, the store where you bought it went out of business more than a decade ago.

This reflection starts a trend in keeping with the natural cycle that begins at Winter Solstice on December 21. In one of my favorite, wacky Tom Robbins novels, Still Life with Woodpecker, the heroine is reportedly “off cycle with the Moon.” Never mind her periods that are out of sync with the lunar phases. Our entire culture is off cycle with the Moon, stars, planets, and especially the Earth. Take the dark winter, a time when other animals and vegetables are hibernating or dormant. If we had any sense at all, we would be meditating, reflecting, resting, and vegging. Instead, we are running around high on sugary cappuccino and latte drinks at malls mobbed with people, acting loony—our only claim to synchronization with the Moon.

If you can’t do it this year, make a resolution for next: Finish all your shopping by Thanksgiving and the merriest parties by Equinox Eve. Keep the peace of silent nights and reflective gatherings of spirit and family beginning with the Solstice.

This is how we were meant to be. And don’t get me started on New Years, designed to be the ultimate inner time, normally spent like we’ve got ants in our pants, no inhibitions, and a lust for alcohol that a large lake of champagne could not quench.

More on this later. Meanwhile, would someone please send me a Christmas card? Even a Merry e-mail?