tuolumne river afternoon © lynette sheppard

During the worst of the menopause transition, we goddesses crave silence. The slightest noise can be an irritant, causing our shoulders to raise up to ear level and our jaw to clench hard enough to crack fillings. The cat breathing, the husband chewing his cereal, the freaking neighbor blowing the lame-ass leaves off his STUPID DRIVEWAY,.. where was I? Oh yes, noise irritation.

As with the majority of the travails of this passage, hypersensitivity to sound passes. We regain a semblance of auditory equanimity, although we may still be fans of quietude.

Still, there is something important to be gained from these annoyances that can serve us in the search for vibrance in our second adulthood. I’m talking about contemplation.

No, I’m not advocating naval gazing or oming or pillow sitting although these are all valuable practices. And good on you if you already avail yourself of these.

Mostly I’m talking about carving out time and space in a busy lifestyle to slow down, to listen, and to hear our own voices calling out from the silence. So many of the questions of midlife and second adulthood might only be answered with purposeful, contemplative breaks in the action.

Questions like: “What is my passion?” or :”What are my passionettes?” “What does it mean to me to age gracefully?” “How might I give back, what legacy shall I leave, if any?” And perhaps most important, “Who am I becoming?”

I just returned from a “vacation” in the High Sierra where Dewitt and I were able to contemplate literally all day long. Wandering aimlessly, appreciating, and photographing the natural beauty of the Dana Fork of the Tuolumne River each day renewed and refreshed us. The rushing white noise of the river and the turtle speed pace allowed my inner voice to surface.

It’s easy to slow down and listen in such an environment. Still, I’d like to make contemplation a part of my everyday life, even more than it is at present.

Reading is a meditation for me. As is photographing. Sometimes, though, the story or artful subject is so compelling that I get lost in it and no longer am hearing my inner voice. How then, might I craft contemplative time, even if only in bits and pieces?

Years ago, I bought a couple of small, powerful books. I just pulled them off the shelf again. Being Home by Gunilla Norris with photos by Greta D. Sibley is a series of meditations having to do with everyday life. Her little vignettes/prayers deal with such weighty subjects as “making the bed” and  “taking out the trash”.

Approaching housework as meditation can create the same open receptivity as sitting by the river. It’s a matter of intention and focus. I have the intention – these little mantras provide the focus. I’m going to avail myself of at least one each day until it becomes ingrained, as natural as the flowing of water. I suspect that it might take a while, but creating a delicious second adulthood is a process not an endgame.

My other little hardbound manifesto is called The Art of Doing Nothing by Veronique Vienne, photographed by Erica Lennard. This little guide to rest an relaxation boasts tiny chapters on the arts of yawning, procrastinating, lounging, napping, and more.
I plan to indulge in at least one of these practices of “being:” in the midst of all my “doing” each day. Perhaps as I bring these gifts more into my life, I will realize that they are not indulgences, but necessities for growing myself.

I’ll keep you all posted on my “progress”. I’d love to know how each of you incorporates contemplation in your life, how you connect with that inner wisdom, and what you have learned. The synergy we create with our sharing leads to exponential growth and positive change. Just ask the Venuses! I don’t know what I’d do without them. Or without all of you! Just sayin’….

Aerial salt desert Utah © lynette sheppard

I love traveling. I hate packing.

To me, a plane flight is like a bubble bath at 30,000 feet. No phone calls, no doorbells, no chores staring you in the face. Just peace and quiet in a semi-reclining seat. Time to daydream, read my books on the iPad, or make iPhone photo art out of the aerial landscapes below.

Packing, on the other hand, sucks. I try to take as little as possible but there are certain necessary maintenance items like vitamins, supplements, prescriptions.  Emollients, lotions, and yes, sex butter.

The worst part is the decision making. What to wear? What is really necessary and what will I wish fervently that I had remembered. Oh and remembering! That’s huge. I have to start at least a few days ahead of time in order to have time to remember all the things I’d have forgotten. Gone are the days of packing the night (or hour) before.

So I dither and fret and obsess.  And whine and complain and make multiple trips to the store or pharmacy. And every time I end up asking myself why it’s so hard? Is it just the post menopausal me? This is the herculean task I must accomplish every time to get to that bubble bath and the joyful journey waiting like a fluffy, warm towel at the end of the flight?

I might be the only one who feels this way, but in case I am not, here’s a new business I’m proposing. How about a service where you email ahead your sizes and styles needed in clothing plus any special needs like certain toiletries, travel hair dryer and/or curling iron, even a tripod for your camera.
When you arrive at the airport, voila. A packed to order suitcase which you use and turn in as you leave. And hey, no luggage fees. Which have gotten pretty steep and could help finance your Rent A Travel Wardrobe.

Seriously, while I cannot and will not start another business, I am soooooooooo available to consult on this idea. Gratis. Because I believe this is an enterprise that is long overdue. Hey, maybe we could even get the airlines to chip in with a lower ticket price if we promise to bring no bags.

Or maybe my Menopause Brain is just working overtime on non-essential thoughts and ideas. Then again………….

Painted Butterfly © lynette sheppard

Whether it’s a spa day or reading or journaling or watching your fave old movies or making art – regular play dates ought to be part of our second adulthood. We need to recapture childlike joy  and immerse ourselves wholeheartedly in unstructured time.

In our feverish scheduling, it’s time to block out playdates (even whole play days) for menopause Goddesses.

It  can be hard to get started - dieseling is what my hubby calls it. I start to do something just for me, but then jump up and try to accomplish, to cross a few more tasks off the list, to have something to show for my day.

Puttering around the house is enjoyable in its own way, as is getting a jumpstart on chores and the work week. But we can get lost in the laundry, cleaning out a closet, organizing, reports.

A Playdate is time just for me. And you. I love playdates with girlfriends too, but there should be just YOU time, where there is no need to adapt yourself to anyone else’s wants, needs, desires, or conversation. In fact, quiet is one of the most nourishing parts of my play days.

So, after a wonderful week of photographic seminaring here on Moloka`i, Dewitt took off for a gallery opening featuring his work on Maui. Though work has piled up and I felt behind, for my own sanity and serenity, I scheduled a Play Day.

Here’s how it went:

There was the usual dieseling:  Changed the bedsheets and piled the old ones by the door to go out to wash.

Forgot sheets – . Organized my desk. Cleaned cat box. Sat down to read and saw sheets. Got up again and put them in wash and put wet towels knotted up in washer into dryer.

Answered phone, lost track of what I was doing: oh yeah, reading. Wait, got to jot down idea for blog. Played another move on Facebook Scrabble with a friend.

Started to read menopause research study in Menopause journal – remembered how much I hate medicalese speak. Put magazine down.

Made coffee – uh oh, breakfast dishes still in sink. Washed them. Poured cup of coffee and sat back down to re-read favorite book “Sisters of the Dream” by Mary Sojourner. A novel about the mystery and magic of sisterhood across time and culture.  (out of print, but it’s possible to find a copy through a used bookstore.)

Some stories are food and this is one of them for me and Theresa-Venus, too. 40 minutes of blissful journeying, .then interrupted by chatty cat demanding affection – (cats think play days are all about them.)

More reading with cat on lap. Lunch.

Worked on painting technique on photographs using Photoshop. One success, one maybe, one failure but I learned something so can try it again and get it right.

Long walk, showered off the sweat.  Finished and won Scrabble game online. Poured glass of wine and watched the sunset.

A perfect play day. A perfect day. I’m filled up again. Tomorrow I can work, refreshed and renewed, excited even.

What would you do with a play day? Or a few hours playdate? And isn’t it about time to schedule one? Share your “perfect day” with us – we might get some ideas for our own future play dates.

BTW, the photo painting that worked is the one of the butterfly above this post.

(For more wit and wisdom from our community of Menopause Goddesses, click here to purchase your copy of “The Big M” – your personal survival and thrival guide for the menopause transition.)

Goddess Becoming © lynette sheppard

Last blog post, we focused on getting what we really want. Wanting, even defining may not be enough. As we create the second half of our lives, we may have to let go of some previously cherished identities; stories we tell ourselves about ourselves.

The Venuses pondered this quandary in our third meeting, a week long exploration in Hawai`i. The following exercise provided tears, laughter, and enlightenment.  (excerpted from “The Big M”,  Humor, Heart, and Help For the Menopausal Journey.”)

“Cultivating A New Relationship with Ourselves

The mantra of midlife women “I just don’t feel like ME anymore” serves as an call to awakening. Who WAS I?  More important,  who AM I now?  Perhaps our increased need for time alone has a purpose.  We need to become acquainted with the changeling emerging from the upheaval of our bodies, psyches, and beleaguered spirits.  We must question ways in which we have known ourselves prior to now.

We identify ourselves by the roles we’ve played in family and society. We also have ideas of what describes us – quiet, outgoing, sensitive, impulsive, etc.  Identities and descriptions make up much of what we think of as ‘myself’.  These roles and ways of being are familiar and comfortable, if not exactly the dreams we thought we would live.  In getting to know a new SELF, we must first relinquish these familiar identities.  We need to let go of them however much they may resemble a life preserver tossed upon the stormy seas of so much change.

“Letting Go of the Old Me” Exercise
Cut up heavy unlined paper or cardstock into pieces big enough for one or two words to be written.  (approx. 1/2 inch by 3 inches each is a good size.)  Give each woman 30 pieces of paper and a pen.  In silence, each Venus writes down one role or description on each piece of paper,  eg.  homemaker, nurse, artist, spiritual person, wild woman, sister, daughter, mother, and so on.  When finished hold all your roles and identities in your hands.  One by one, put them down, feeling the sensations and emotions of letting go of each one.  Take as long as needed – noticing how it feels to shed each identity.  When all your papers have been relinquished and your hands are empty, just sit quietly and notice what is left.  How does it feel to be without your roles?  Without your descriptions of who you are?  Don’t forget to breathe.

After 5-10 minutes of sitting quietly in this fashion, slowly begin to pick up your roles and descriptions one at a time.  Notice this time how it feels to reclaim each identity.  Are there some that are easier to take back?  Some that are burdensome or seem irrelevant?  Are there surprises?

If you’ve done this exercise in a group, those Venuses who wish to may share their experiences.  This serves to deepen and validate the experience for all.

For some in our Venus group, this exercise was deeply emotional, with great pain experienced on ‘giving up’ some of our most cherished identities.  Others were equally surprised at the ease with which some roles dropped away, like burdens laid to rest.  We found ourselves re-thinking the roles we have adopted until now and contemplating releasing those that no longer serve us or others.

The most important epiphany of the exercise involved feeling what was left when we let go of all our supposed roles and identities.  “Something” essential still remained.  An authentic being with value apart from what she does or how she is perceived exists when we give up all our identities.  Each goddess might be well served to acquaint herself with this essential ‘she’. “

You can try this exercise alone, although it is even more valuable when done in the presence of your Menopause Goddess girlfriends. Shedding roles that don’t serve us any longer opens space for us to become the women we wish to be. As we grow into our new Selves, what we want may change as well. All of this is just focusing our vision, clarifying our dreams, and finding our path as we travel this next part of the post menopausal journey.

(For more exercises in creating our Second Act, as well as surviving and thriving on the Menopause journey, get your own copy of The Big M. And get a copy for a girlfriend at half price when you order yours.)

Emerald Bay Sunrise © lynette sheppard

Remember in our first act of life, before the Pause, when you really wanted something? Perhaps it was a lover, a job, a new car, or moving to another state.

Finally, through perseverance, circumstance, or luck, you got it. And then? The letdown. Because the desired object it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as you thought it would be. What’s that about?

Maybe, just maybe, what we thought we wanted isn’t what we really wanted. We thought this sought after “thing” might fill us up and when it didn’t, we were left confused and bereft. Soon, we replaced it with another desire. Ah, this would be the one. Or ones.

In our second Act, we hope to be clearer about what we want, about how we wish to live, about who we will become. Because not to put to fine a point on it, but time is running out.

In one of our meetings, the Venuses did the following exercise to discover what it is we really want. This exercise is not a “secret” for manifesting – nor will you be writing affirmations or calling on a Higher Power.

No, this involves a deeper inquiry into what we really desire; what we really want to claim a fulfilled life. and it changes moment to moment.

So here’ s the exercise, (excerpted from our book The Big M.) It’s simple, but not to be taken lightly.

“The Want List exercise

Take a piece of paper and divide it into two columns vertically down the page.  In the first column, quickly write down at least 10 things that you “want”.  Don’t censor yourself or overthink this process.  Avoid beauty contestant answers like “world peace”, unless that truly popped into your head unbidden.  Don’t worry if any of your ‘wants’ seem silly or bizarre.  No one else needs to see this list.  It can be as mundane as a new toothbrush or as exotic as a cruise around the world.

When you have finished making your list, in the second column next to each ‘thing’ that you want, write the one or two words that describe how you will feel if you get it.  Examples:  successful, clean, adventurous, smart, loved, happy, peaceful, etc.

Now read over the list in the second column.  This is the more important list.  These feelings are what you really want.  The feeling may or may not be  met by the ‘thing’ or item that corresponds to it on your list.  How many times have we wanted something desperately, thinking it would make us feel a certain way, only to find that it didn’t deliver what we’d hoped?  If I get this new haircut, I’ll feel beautiful.  Well, maybe or possibly I’ll just feel different.  If I get this degree, I’ll feel smart.  Maybe yes, maybe for awhile, or maybe I’ll just feel in debt with a piece of paper to put on my wall.

Most important is that we really want the feelings in our lives, and the ‘want’ we attach to the feeling may or may not provide it for us.  There’s a clarity in realizing that we actually want the feeling, as we discover that there may be multiple ways to achieve that feeling.  Sometimes to our great surprise, we discover that we already have this feeling in our lives, and have simply failed to recognize it.

To complete the exercise, we call for the feelings to manifest or reveal themselves in our lives.  And we stay open to the many ways these feelings can show up, rather than remaining attached to the ‘thing’ we wanted.  Hey, it may even be the ‘thing’ that brings the feeling, but at least we’re not blinded to the possibilities that the feeling we want may come from other venues.

If you should happen to do this exercise in your own Venus group, you may wish to share the list of feelings you want to bring into your life.  Voicing them aloud, in the supporting presence of the group, serves to give your desires importance and legitimacy in your own eyes.  The whole group can witness, not only for the feelings you want to attract in your life, but the commitment you have toward manifesting them.

As we’ve said before, there is a synergy and a magic to visioning, planning, and creating the second half of our lives in a community of supportive, like-minded women. Together we are SO much more than the sum of our singular parts.  Connected to each another, we become more amazing and powerful than any single goddess, mythical or real.”

If you don’t have a sisterhood or Menopause Goddess Community, you can do this exercise by yourself. It will likely be immensely enlightening. And you can do it over and over again as you feel yourself changing.

Still, I can’t overemphasize that any clarity you gain is so much more profound when illuminated in the community of other women. Because they witness, really hear your desire, they can also keep you on track when you forget. As we inevitably do.

Try it for yourself. Let us know how it goes. (For more exercises in creating our Second Act, as well as surviving and thriving on the Menopause journey, get your own copy of The Big M. And get a copy for a girlfriend at half price when you order yours.)

Tuolumne river © lynette sheppard

Why is it called Menopause instead of Menohalt? We don’t pause our hormones and childbearing status. We come to a screeching stop!

So why the temporary sounding name? Perhaps there’s a message here. (No, I’m not talking about Men On Pause, although there is certainly a component of that for awhile during the Big M.)

I wonder if we are Meant to Pause. Okay, okay, I’m probably reading way too much into this, but I just got back from a major pause up in the high Sierra and it seems that this deep appreciation for all things beautiful has been pushed to the forefront by Menopause.

Peace, enjoyment of simple pleasures like nature and music, reveling in the perfection to be had in the here and now. Theresa Venus talks about this same feeling in her latest blog entry, wondering if resort living might really be a frame of mind rather than a place like Lake Tahoe. I think she might be on to something.

Case in point: Dewitt and I went up to Tuolumne Lodge in Yosemite National Park again this year. It’s a great vacation spot complete with rustic tent cabins. There’s no wifi and precious little cell phone service. No electricity either. A perfect place to unplug.

Add to that, hot showers and great food prepared for you twice a day and there are just no responsibilities whatsoever. It’s like going to camp without the overamped counselors and activities. Because if there’s one thing we Menopause Goddesses long for, it is unstructured, open time. Time to read, make art, daydream, or just do nothing.

Every morning at breakfast, we were seated with several other campers that we didn’t know. Inevitably the first topic of conversation was “What hike are you doing?”

“Er, none.” we’d answer. “We are just going to walk a little ways down the river and hang out. Maybe read a little and take some photos.”

This was a most appropriate question, since this lodge is the jumping off point for some of the most beautiful (and strenuous) hikes in the Sierra. Our answer earned us some pretty weird looks, and sometimes put a stop to all further conversation.

Still, we stuck to our nonplan. (One of Dewitt’s favorite phrases about vacationing and travel is that “The unaimed arrow never misses.” We live by that.

Off to the river we meandered with lawn chairs, books, cameras, water, and trail mix. Long days were spent rereading favorite books. (In Spite of Everything Yes by Ralph Steiner for Dewitt, Anne Lamott’s delightful book on writing Bird by Bird for me.) We swam and took photos, watched shadows and birds, and just filled ourselves up on natural beauty.

At dinner, we’d reprise our day when asked what hike(s) we did. Some confused looks as well as some curious glances were directed our way. Luckily, food arrived quickly enough to save us having to explain too much.

Our last morning, we were sitting at the table with two goddesses of a certain Meant To Pause age. They asked us about our hiking plans; we sheepishly reiterated our lazy ass, open-ended, goal less ‘plans’. “Wonderful,” they crowed. “Us too. Don’t you just love it?”

We do. We love it. And them. They came along just in time, reaffirming our commitment to Pause and reflect, Pause and relax, Pause and enjoy. Yep, from now on, I’m a Meant To Pause Goddess and proud of it.

butterfly blues © lynette sheppard

When I asked for ideas for the third theme for the Menopause Goddess Blog, I was deluged with creative titles from goddesses. I heard from women post pausal and those simply looking forward to that happy day. One thing is for sure, creativity is definitely blooming in the Menopause years.

There were so many good ideas that it was hard to choose. Yeah, yeah, I know. Everyone says that with every contest, but I’m not just blowing smoke here. It was tough, tough, tough. And I will say that most of the ideas will now be subcategories of the main theme.

As you know, we needed a theme that in 16 characters described all the ramifications of the post pausal years (save aging and menopause, since those are the other two themes.) This title had to include our being and becoming for our second Act. It had to suggest growing into our “new” selves, what we might leave behind, and our life’s journey from here on.

Before I announce the winner, here are themes that are the runners-up. These are all first runners-up and deserve admiration and contemplation because each describes at least one facet of the post-pausal journey.

Meaning of Life, Voila, Eureka, Pause to Play, Embracing Wisdom, Elder Wisdom, Evolution, Nirvana, Legacy, Grace, YouPlay, Vision, Return to Sanity, Age of Wisedom, Pausitive Changes, Our New Chapter, New Beginnings, From Now On, LIfe after Menopause, Our Act 2, Past Pause, Beyond Big M, Elderiffic, Journey Part 2, Pause Then Effect, Living Our Dreams, Life’s Vision, Being and Becoming, Wise Woman Phase, Phase 2, Meaning Full.

Whew. And just a few more noteworthy entries.

“Theia” was suggested by Laura S. She is the elder Titanis goddess of sight and the shining light of heaven (“aither”). She was the mother of Sun, Moon and Dawn. Her name is also connected with words meaning “foresight” and “prophecy”. I love the symbology.

One of my favorites is AfterPause (thanks, Carol). However, my good friend Dee Adams of Minnie Pauz cartoon fame has actually begun a section on her site called Afterpause. Check it out if you haven’t already.

I also loved “AARP Why Me? I’m not Ready” submitted by Mrs. V. even though it exceeds the 16 characters; it’s so apt.

Okay, finally. Drum roll please. The winner is Jennifer Worsham with her theme title: “Second Adulthood”. This title encompasses everything: the celebration of Voila, the leaving a mark of Legacy, the looking ahead of Vision, and all the permutations of Wisdom, Play, and Living Our Dreams that our post-pausal journey will unfold.

So Jennifer, please send me your mailing info to lynette@9points.com and I’ll send out your copy of “The Big M” right away. Congratulations.

And congrats and thank you to all the goddesses who so generously gave of themselves and their creative wordplay to all of us.
We all win when we make it out the other side of the Pause, no doubt about it.

techno trials by lynette sheppard

Technology. Gotta love it; gotta hate it sometimes.

I love my Macintosh computer and my iPhone. I love how they talk to each other keeping my email and calendar up to date. I love, love, love my iPad. And of course, my trusty iPod. Mostly though, I love technology because it connects me to such an amazing community of wild, wise women.

Still sometimes, I despise technology. Twitter won’t let me tweet because there are already too many li’l birds singing out there. Or I’m confounded yet again by the “new and improved” Facebook. Or my mail program says it can’t send for no discernable reason.

Or the plug-ins that cause Menopause Goddess Blog to operate, roll over and play dead when we upgrade to the latest, greatest WordPress platform. (Which we have to do about every fifteen freaking minutes, it seems. Hellooooooooooo. Can we have a little consistency around here?!?)

Okay, enough ranting. Here’s why this is important just now. We’re extending the contest to name the third theme of blog topics on Menopause Goddess Blog for one more week, because the “Contact Us” button decided to quit working or go on extended vacation or something. And we don’t know how long it has been kaput.

So while my web magician works on a new one (we are dumping the plug-in that refused to perform and programming a hardwired solution), I will ask (read plead) for any of you who sent your wonderful suggestions and ideas to me to resend them to menopausegoddess@aol.com I would hate to miss any of your wise woman brilliance.

We’ve already had a number of cool suggestions for the theme that will cover the second half of our lives, after the worst of the pause, when we focus on such things as legacy, vision, who we might become, and so on.

All this has to fit into 16 characters (including spaces, I believe). Whew, tall order. Remember, winner gets a copy of The Big M (and if she already has it, a Big M Jewel box.)

Okay, goddesses. Send us your best. And remember, when technology gets cranky, don’t you follow suit. Just head for the chocolate and wine. Hmmmmmmm. I need to follow my own advice. Time for tootsie rolls and Merlot.

Anyway, the point of this story is that there was the usual final evening banquet, dance, and silent auction to raise funds for the professional association. Dewitt and I are silent auction junkies; we scope out all the goodies, rank them, and often find at least one must-have item. So we were primed and ready.

In the past, our silent auction choices were things like dancing lessons, golf vacations, jewelry, or artsy stuff for our home. We always felt so virtuous bidding on something we’d never ordinarily seek out while contributing to a good cause.

At this particular event, we wandered up and down the long tables. Beautiful jewelry, fine wine, and outings were offered in abundance. Lately however, I feel like I have enough jewelry, didn’t want to haul the wine back with me, and have enough outings coming up that I’m longing to be home a little more.

So nothing was appealing. Until I saw it. A small unassuming box. A magic box. Containing a device I did not own. I had to have it.

Easy one step, it promised. Clinically validated for accuracy. Large digital display. Lifetime warranty.

It was (drum roll please) a Blood Pressure Monitor. And hardly any bids were listed. I rushed over to Dewitt (as I am wont to do in these situations, because I can count on him to be a tenacious auction hound) and whispered, “I have to have THAT!”

To his credit, he didn’t question it, just got to work, while I visited with colleagues and surfed the food tables. Long story short, he won it. I was the proud owner of a Life Source Easy One Step Blood Pressure Monitor.

After paying for it, we made the rounds of friends and associates at other tables. I kept the magic box awkwardly tucked under my arm, unwilling to let my prize go.

“Oh my god,” screeched an Enneagram professional woman friend of Menopause Goddess age. “I bid on that! I actually wanted it.”

“How weird is this?” I asked her. “Have we reached the old people stage of life where medical equipment trumps spa supplies, adornments, and vacations? Oh my god, we are pathetic.! What if the auction had included large type remotes or ginormous pill boxes? Just imagine the frenzy if there’d been one of those I’ve-fallen-and-I-can’t-get-up services offered. Yikes!”

“Nah, we’re not pathetic, she laughed. “We still dance and travel and dress up. We just care about our health. Too.”

So this is it. Another bizarre manifestation of my own personal aging. Bypass the wine. Forget the trips. Scratch the jewelry. Go for the medical and health supplies.

Still, my Enneagram buddy is right. This is additive not subtractive. Health, travel, silver earrings, and wine. I love them all.

And I love techie things. Like my iPad. And my blood pressure monitor. Oh, and my reading was 120/80. In case you were wondering. I was.

Supposedly, the sense that is the most evocative of memory is smell. And I can attest that sometimes that is true. The scent of chalkdust and newly sharpened pencils definitely takes me back to grade school.

But I think that hearing might be a contender for top memory honors as well. Specifically when related to hearing music. In fact, listening to music from our past may even open up time travel.

Case in point: Theresa Venus and I (along with spouses and friends) attended an Elton John concert the other night. And suddenly, while dancing and singing along to songs we knew by heart, we were 17 again. Okay, it was really dark, so that helped the illusion.

Still, the years just fell away as the sunset faded into twilight and the full moon made its entrance. Flooded with happy nostalgia,  we slipped into that youthful experience of pure, rocking joy in the moment, needing nothing more, feeling the promise of life stretching out ahead of us.

Just like now. Our life stretches out ahead of us – at least the second half of it. And remembering will keep us vibrant and alive. Youth may be wasted on the young, but if we tap into it, it won’t be wasted on us menopause goddesses as we leap into our second childhood.

So, in the title I quote two of my favorite (and apropos) Elton John songs. I say them as a mantra: The Bitch is Back. And I’m Still Standing.  And dancing, and singing, and laughing out loud. I’m fifty fifteen and ready for rock and roll. Join me!

Click the link for a little taste of the magic:

Elton John Concert Lake Tahoe 2010