Driving home the other day I passed the nearby retirement and long term care home. Half a block further on an elderly man, possibly in his 80s, was walking carefully home, head bent as he avoided pavement cracks and debris that could trip him up. His face looked pained but determined, and he shuffled with a stiff legged sway. He was alone, and I wondered if he lived that way too. I was suddenly struck with a foreboding, a fear so gripping that I felt my breath catch. For the first time I felt my own old age laying its hand on my shoulder, and I was afraid. I had never felt that way before, and I paused longer than usual at the stop sign, watching the man recede in my rear view mirror.
Perhaps it's the death of James' father a month ago; or the memory of my own parents' passing; or the dozen aches and pains that have become chronic reminders of my 57 years, but old age does not seem that far away any more. And I don't like it, not one bit. I know I am supposed to embrace my inner crone, go gracefully toward the sunset, enjoy the respect and admiration of the younger generation. But I don't like feeling tired more often than not, or that I have to exercise to keep my metabolism up to speed, or that my shoe size keeps changing as my feet spread. I worry that I won't have enough money for retirement, which I will have to put off as long as possible. I feel like I haven't accomplished enough, haven't realized my dreams, and time is running out. I wonder if I will live into my 90s like my grandparents, or barely make my 70s like my parents.
If I have to live old and alone, what will my days be like? Will I putter around my rooms, rearranging shelves, watching Jeopardy every evening at 7, waiting for calls from my son? Will I shuffle down the sidewalk nursing a hip replacement, trying to remember if I've taken my medication that morning? What will I regret not having done?
Until the other day, those concerns seemed far off, and perhaps they are. For the past eight months I have been in temporary retirement, not having regular income, but with a wealth of time on my hands. Without the distraction and regular activity of a daily job I notice the aches and pains more, the gray hair sprouting around my crown seems more pronounced, my obsessions are more acute. I am more careful about spending money and dine out less often. I have had a little taste of the future and I know what I want for it.
When I am old I will be active and vital, despite my aches and pains. I will focus more on others and less on myself. I will serve my community and connect with friends and family. I will enjoy my quietude, meditate and spend time with the person I like best, myself. If I am alone, I will not be lonely. I will count my blessings and offer gratitude every day. If I have regrets, I will forgive them and be humble. I will let myself feel sad, afraid, angry, lonely, depressed, but only for a little while. I will have a dog to take on walks, and will watch racy movies instead of Jeopardy. I will paint pictures and visit places I have not seen. I will live much like I do today, only slowly and with more care and mindfulness. I am getting older, yes, but age is a state of mind and heart and spirit.
I hope I see that old man again sometime when I am walking in the neighborhood. I want to nod and smile and greet him the same way that I will greet old age, with love and grace and openness.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Happy birthday!
Happy birthday to me! Entering into meditation this morning, I gave thanks for those who were responsible: my mom and dad. And to their moms and dads, and to whatever spark of life wanted manifestation in the dark nest of the cosmic mother. Melting deeper into the void, a mantra filtered up from the sloggy bottom and repeated over and over: Marlene-Renee-Asha-Robbins, Marlene-Renee-Asha-Robbins. The sound drifted through the ether and took up the drum beat of my heart. Marlene-Renee-Asha-Robbins. The rounds of the vowels and the purr-hum of the consonants mesmerized and I could feel the manifestation of a billion particles of energy, the sounds becoming the person. What is in a name, I wondered. What is in my name? How does my name spoken aloud manifest energy in this time and space?
As a child I thought my first name was strange. My mother picked it because she did not want something everyone else had, and she did not want to name me after anyone in the family. She must have been too groggy or too excited after childbirth to remember that her next youngest sister was named Marlene! So although I was not supposed to carry the moniker of any blood relatives, I am glad to share my name with my lovely and very dear aunt. Marlene is a contraction of MARy MagdaLENE. Mary Magdalene, of course, has been made famous by her association with Jesus of Nazareth, and by her often incorrectly maligned reputation as a woman of shady character. But most historians agree she was probably your typical wealthy woman who fell for a charismatic leader and decided to chuck the good life and follow her guru. She was the most favored of the disciples (according to the Gospel of Thomas), was the first to encounter Jesus after his resurrection (per the New Testament), and had a gospel attributed to her (part of the apocrypha.) Mary was willing to leave the material world she knew to follow the callings of her soul. She was a strong woman in a time when women were chattel. Some say she was freed of her demons through her faith. I like to imagine her as the centered, passionate, courageous, feminine aspect of my highest Self. Happy birthday, Marlene!
Renee is French for "reborn". My mom was Swiss and my dad liked art and aesthetic things, so they liked the sound of it. French sounds so yummy and sexy and vital, I love speaking it and I love France! But reborn as what? as whom? Stay tuned....
Asha is a Sanskrit name. It was given to me by the head minister and teacher of kriya yoga at the Center for Spiritual Enlightenment here in San Jose, Ca. I had been studying yoga and practicing meditation for several years when I felt called to put a name to my experience as a spiritual being walking this earth plane. Asha means "hope that springs from deep faith." Having grown up in a fairly conservative, usually suspicious, sometimes depressing family of three (me, my mom and dad) I did not think of myself as very faithful nor hopeful. My kriya name is an invitation to renew my faith on a daily basis, to remember the good there is and to act as its herald and advocate. Hope springs eternal!
When I divorced after 30 years of marriage, I felt compelled to change my last name. I had never felt at home in my married name, and my maiden name seemed to have passed its expiration date. I thought about dropping my last name entirely, but felt like I wanted a connection with my family and its history, the stream of beings and events that had led up to this one creation: me. Since I was little I had heard stories about my paternal grandmother, Dorothy, who died when my dad was only ten, and was remembered as a kind, sweet, gentle woman. I had pictures of her sitting with her husband and four children at the photographer's studio, standing by the Model A in the driveway, smiling in her felt cloche hat and shawl collar coat. My dad thought she was part Native American and remembered her dressing up for ceremony in her regalia. I never met her, but part of me knew her in a deep mysterious way. To honor her memory, I took her maiden name of Robbins. I like the way it sounds, strong yet round on the tongue. Robbins is a diminutive form of the German "Robert" which means "bright fame". My Capricorn nature likes that!
So when I put it all together it spells "a woman who follows her higher calling to be reborn in hope made brightly famous." Or something like that! Am I the embodiment of that wonderful expression? Can I manifest the energy of the names I am given? How do I resonate with the reverberation of those sounds as they echo in the vast cosmic consciousness of this existence? This next year will tell.
Marlene-Renee-Asha- Robbins....Marlene-Renee-Asha-Robbins.......Marlene-Renee-Asha-Robbins.......
As a child I thought my first name was strange. My mother picked it because she did not want something everyone else had, and she did not want to name me after anyone in the family. She must have been too groggy or too excited after childbirth to remember that her next youngest sister was named Marlene! So although I was not supposed to carry the moniker of any blood relatives, I am glad to share my name with my lovely and very dear aunt. Marlene is a contraction of MARy MagdaLENE. Mary Magdalene, of course, has been made famous by her association with Jesus of Nazareth, and by her often incorrectly maligned reputation as a woman of shady character. But most historians agree she was probably your typical wealthy woman who fell for a charismatic leader and decided to chuck the good life and follow her guru. She was the most favored of the disciples (according to the Gospel of Thomas), was the first to encounter Jesus after his resurrection (per the New Testament), and had a gospel attributed to her (part of the apocrypha.) Mary was willing to leave the material world she knew to follow the callings of her soul. She was a strong woman in a time when women were chattel. Some say she was freed of her demons through her faith. I like to imagine her as the centered, passionate, courageous, feminine aspect of my highest Self. Happy birthday, Marlene!
Mary Magdalene by Carlo Dolci
Renee is French for "reborn". My mom was Swiss and my dad liked art and aesthetic things, so they liked the sound of it. French sounds so yummy and sexy and vital, I love speaking it and I love France! But reborn as what? as whom? Stay tuned....
Asha is a Sanskrit name. It was given to me by the head minister and teacher of kriya yoga at the Center for Spiritual Enlightenment here in San Jose, Ca. I had been studying yoga and practicing meditation for several years when I felt called to put a name to my experience as a spiritual being walking this earth plane. Asha means "hope that springs from deep faith." Having grown up in a fairly conservative, usually suspicious, sometimes depressing family of three (me, my mom and dad) I did not think of myself as very faithful nor hopeful. My kriya name is an invitation to renew my faith on a daily basis, to remember the good there is and to act as its herald and advocate. Hope springs eternal!
Asha in Sanskrit आशा
When I divorced after 30 years of marriage, I felt compelled to change my last name. I had never felt at home in my married name, and my maiden name seemed to have passed its expiration date. I thought about dropping my last name entirely, but felt like I wanted a connection with my family and its history, the stream of beings and events that had led up to this one creation: me. Since I was little I had heard stories about my paternal grandmother, Dorothy, who died when my dad was only ten, and was remembered as a kind, sweet, gentle woman. I had pictures of her sitting with her husband and four children at the photographer's studio, standing by the Model A in the driveway, smiling in her felt cloche hat and shawl collar coat. My dad thought she was part Native American and remembered her dressing up for ceremony in her regalia. I never met her, but part of me knew her in a deep mysterious way. To honor her memory, I took her maiden name of Robbins. I like the way it sounds, strong yet round on the tongue. Robbins is a diminutive form of the German "Robert" which means "bright fame". My Capricorn nature likes that!
So when I put it all together it spells "a woman who follows her higher calling to be reborn in hope made brightly famous." Or something like that! Am I the embodiment of that wonderful expression? Can I manifest the energy of the names I am given? How do I resonate with the reverberation of those sounds as they echo in the vast cosmic consciousness of this existence? This next year will tell.
Marlene-Renee-Asha- Robbins....Marlene-Renee-Asha-Robbins.......Marlene-Renee-Asha-Robbins.......
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