Category — Positive Changes

Karen Leland, writer on balance for the Living section of Huffington Post has just written a terrific piece about "How To Be A Menopause Goddess with hints from "The Big M" book. She shares a couple of hilarious personal stories and my "top 10" hints for becoming a Menopause Goddess. Of course, my top 10 vary from day to day, depending on which symptoms are assaulting me, yet we managed to offer help for some of the physical, mental, and emotional aspects of The Big M.

Click on the link below to read her story on "The Big M". Be sure to leave a comment (and/or twitter, facebook, digg it etc. If you don’t know what these are, don’t feel bad. I’m only just learning myself.) I will say that clicking the link as well as commenting help me and Karen, so please grab hold of that mouse and give it a little squeeze for us!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/karen-leland/how-to-be-a-menopause-god_b_183990.html

In Hawai`i, we have a saying. "A`a i ka hula." It means Dare to Dance. And it isn’t simply an admonishment for shy hula dancers. It’s a call to action, a call to boldly LIVE your life. As a followup to the blog entry of February 19th on doing what you love so that the riches will follow, I’m going to spotlight one bold and amazing goddess who IS daring to dance.

Teri did not give up her day job to follow her dream of a bookstore/gift shop where people could meet for coffee, spontaneous hula, cultural classes, and all manner of gathering and sharing. Her day job gave her up over a year ago and she revisited her dream. Was it possible? Could she do it? In this economy?

Yet, if not now, when? Like the woman who planted daffodils one bulb at a time, Teri took one baby step at a time. Developing a business plan, applying for loans, finding a space, painting, hammering, and filling shelves. With the help of a small community of women, Kalele Bookstore and Divine Expressions opened in Kaunakakai, Moloka`i the day after Teri’s fiftieth birthday.

Teri is a living embodiment of the aloha spirit. Born and raised in Hawai`i, her welcoming, nurturing presence was previously exhibited in service of some luxury hotel. Now she’ll be putting those gifts to work in support of her own dream. Exhilarating, scary, joyful, and okay, I’ll say it, daring. Will Kalele Bookstore and Divine Expressions be successful? It already is! Not only because we women are flocking to her story for coffee, a respite, or a conversation. It’s a success because Teri is doing what we all need to do at this time of our lives: daring to dance.

Menopause goddesses are myth busters, and Sharon Venus shattered a few major ones last week in Maui when she married her soulmate, Dan.

Myth Number 1
A woman over 40 has a better chance of being killed by a terrorist than she has of getting married. (We didn’t need Snopes to know this was bogus, but this crazy stat still floats around out there.)

Myth Number 2
By midlife, all the good ones are taken. (This is untrue in the case of both men and woman. Nuff said.)

Myth Number 3
Men and women over 40 are too set in their ways to make good partners.
So not true. I know inflexible twenty-somethings and open, curious midlife men and women. This is not an age dependent phenomenon.

Myth Number 4
Men and women over 40 have too much baggage and there will be difficult hurdles in relationship.
I can attest personally to the fact that no matter how much luggage Sharon and Dan pack on any given day, they ALWAYS travel lightly.

Myth Number 5
As we age,we become sedate, quiet, and not as adventurous as our 20 something counterparts. Es no verdad! Many of us are entering the best of our second childhood exhibiting delight, wonder, and a willingness to take risks. (After the menopausal heat wave dissipates, that is. Prior to that we are just trying to survive.)

As you can see from the photo, Sharon Venus was GORGEOUS in that sexy, fabulous dress. She and Dan exchanged heartfelt vows on a Pacific Whale Foundation sunset cruise with 80 close friends and family, while a slew of humpback whales breached, spyhopped, and slapped the ocean loudly with their fins and tails. It was an amazing celebration of love.

After the ceremony, Sharon and Dan moved about the boat, kissing and greeting, accepting congratulations. And the bride vaporized, once and for all, Myth Number 5.

The Venuses don’t have a special handshake or song or password. We DO have a saying, really more of a shouting. "Shitfire, Eunice!" we yell whenever one of us needs encouragement, praise, or just as general celebration. It’s a combo of you-go-girl, woo hoo, 150% enthusiasm, to da max, and it doesn’t get any better than this! (It’s a longish story as to how this became our identifying phrase and best saved for another time.)

When Sharon Venus embraced me, I whispered in her ear softly, "Shitfire, Eunice". The lovely goddess leaned back still holding my hands, and hollered "SHITFIRE, EUNICE!" to the delight and confusion of a boatload of wedding guests. And we were off to the reception.
Printed on cards for each guest was the following perfect poem:

"The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you,
not knowing how blind that was.

Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere,
they’re in each other all along."

RUMI

Yeah. Exactly. What he said. And congratulations. Shitfire Eunice!!!!

One of my blogger friends, Kat, sent me this wonderful message. Like me, she doesn’t usually forward email missives, but this one moved her enough to pass it on. I don’t know who wrote it or where it originated, but it is a great message. And it speaks so eloquently to each of us menopausal goddesses, as we contemplate and move forward in the Second Act of our lives.

"The Daffodil Principle"

"Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, ‘Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over.’ I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead . ‘I will come next Tuesday’, I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.

Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house, I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.

‘Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!’

My daughter smiled calmly and said, ‘ We drive in this all the time, Mother.’

‘Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears, and then I’m heading for home!’ I assured her.
‘But first we’re going to see the daffodils. It’s just a few blocks,’ Carolyn said. ‘I’ll drive. I’m used to this.’

‘Carolyn,’ I said sternly, ‘Please turn around.’

‘It’s all right, Mother, I promise.You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.’

After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign with an arrow that read, ‘Daffodil Garden.’

We got out of the car, each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

‘Who did this?’ I asked Carolyn.

‘Just one woman,’ Carolyn answered. ‘She lives on the property. That’s her home.’ Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

On the patio, we saw a poster. ‘Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking’, was the headline.

The first answer was a simple one. ’50,000 bulbs,’ it read.

The second answer was, ‘One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain.’

The third answer was, ‘Began in 1958.’

For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived.

One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration.

That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time, often just one baby-step at a time and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world

‘It makes me sad in a way,’ I admitted to Carolyn. ‘ What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty five or forty years ago and had worked away at it ‘one bulb at a time’ through all those years? ‘Just think what I might have been able to achieve!’

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. ‘Start tomorrow,’ she said.

She was right. It’s so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, ‘How can I put this to use today?’

Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting…..

Until your car or home is paid off
Until you get a new car or home
Until your kids leave the house
Until you go back to school
Until you finish school
Until you clean the house
Until you organize the garage
Until you clean off your desk
Until you lose 10 lbs.
Until you gain 10 lbs.
Until you get married
Until you get a divorce
Until you have kids
Until the kids go to school
Until you retire
Until summer
Until spring
Until winter
Until fall
Until you die…

There is no better time than right now to be happy. Happiness is a journey, not a destination.
So work like you don’t need money. Love like you’ve never been hurt, and dance like no one’s watching.

If you want to brighten someone’s day, pass this on to someone special. I just did!

Wishing you a beautiful, daffodil day!

Don’t be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin."

Marsha Sinetar wrote a book many years ago called "Do What You Love, The Money Will Follow". Naturally, it was a best seller. But the title was chosen by the publisher. The title she wanted was "Do What You Love, The Riches Will Follow". And riches may or may not be money. In fact, for most of the people she interviewed in the book, they didn’t give up their day job. Yet they identified themselves by their avocation, even when it made no money, received no distribution, garnered no external acclaim.

Let’s face it, we need to do what we love right now. We don’t have unlimited time on this planet. We can’t wait for retirement – given the state of the economy, the Golden years will likely still be working years for many of us. We can take small sacred steps to our secret desire, our most heartfelt dream. Write that cookbook, paint those watercolors, plant that garden, sing that song, read those stacks of books. Do what you love NOW and the riches will be present right away – in the process as much as the outcome.

To visit www.hyggedigter.blogspot.com”>Kat’s blogs, go click here.

and www.cultclipsgenx.blogspot.com

Marsha Sinetar’s book is still in print - check it out on Amazon.com.

Continuing on the value of nudity for menopause goddesses, I came across this fabulous video on YouTube. Old Fat Naked Women

Their humorous but serious premise is this: if leaders do not cease and desist making war, despoiling the planet, "shameful" bonuses, and other all too familiar horrors of our time, then these women will take off their clothes. "Knock it Off!" sing the Righteous Mothers. "Or we’ll take it off!"

Around 400 BC, Aristophanes wrote a play about a woman named Lysistrata who led all the women in Greece in withholding sex from the men until they settled the differences that led to the Peloponnesian War. It didn’t take long for peace to ensue. Like modern day versions of Lysistrata, we have the power to effect social change simply be shedding our garments. Or really, just threatening too. As the Righteous Mothers sing,

"Even Dick Cheney
doesn’t want to see
his granny’s
titties in the breeze."

Their wonderful song is interspersed with photos of women across the globe spelling out "peace" with their nude voluptuous selves as well as pictures of war and devastation. Their advice to us? We should organize, and get a lawyer just in case. Then "Keep your message clear, wait for a sunny day, notify the press, and fling your clothes away."

Goddesses. We are powerful indeed. Whether we choose this method or other more conventional ones, we are the elders. We grew up in the sixties and seventies; we can put our ideals into action anew. Any ideas? Share them with us – we’re ready. We’re mature, zaftig goddesses for peace. And we won’t take no for an answer.

Nudity. I don’t like to contemplate it anymore. Oh, I’m not philosophically opposed to it in any way, shape, or form – except the way, shape and form that I personally inhabit these days. Menopause and time have morphed me into someone I don’t recognize. Especially naked.

After my morning shower, I look in the mirror and I literally scramble to put on my clothes. I try to view myself from limited vantage points when confronted by my reflection. I’ve become an expert at the millisecond glance. Things have shifted, slipped, and padded in ways that I never envisioned. I’m equal parts fascinated and horrified.

Some days, I think to myself "oh what the heck, this is what a fifty-something woman looks like. I look ‘good for my age’. " (At one time, I thought the phrase "looks good for her age" was insulting, now it seems like a legitimate compliment.) Luckily, if my husband notices that I’m not the svelte young thing I once was, well, bad eyesight and good sense keep him from remarking on it.

Recently, I was lamenting (sounds slightly more highbrow than whining) to my massage/healing practitioner about how I want to lose weight. "No!" he commanded loudly. "No! You’re healthy. Why are women always worrying so much about their weight? Stop it! If you tell me that you want to get stronger and more fit, great. And if you tone and tighten as a byproduct of that, well okay. But NO setting out to lose weight."

"But," I whined on. "My clothes are tight."

"Then go around naked more," he admonished. "Clean house in the nude – write in the nude – pay bills in the nude."

So I’m trying his advice. Luckily, we live in an extremely rural area, so there are no neighbors or passersby to offend. Our long driveway gives me plenty of warning, should I need to make myself presentable for company.

My husband seems to like this new development. The cats don’t seem to care. (Although the lap sitting is a bit of the problem when they contentedly start to knead my thighs with their claws. Pillows help.)

And I have to say that I’m feeling much better about my fifty year old shape. It’s voluptuous, it’s mature, and it’s healthy. Most important, it’s mine.

(For more menopause and midlife wisdom from our Venus community, click below to order The Big M – and don’t forget our girlfriend’s special – buy one at full price and get the second at half price! the Big M

In my last blog entry I promised to share a miraculous, foolproof secret method for extricating yourself from overcommitment. Okay, get ready. Drum roll please. Wait for it………the magical technique is to simply WRITE A BOOK. Actually, all you have to do is to START writing a book.

I can hear you now, oh skeptical ones. "Oh, great, why doesn’t she tell me to perform brain surgery too. Or paint the Mona Lisa, Part II. Is this a joke?"

Nope. Not a joke. I’ve written two books so far, and I can tell you this. All you have to do is start. Write "My Book" at the top of a page and by "your name" underneath it. There. You’ve started.

Don’t worry about publishing or what to do with it later – write it for yourself. Or your kids. By this time of your life, I know that you have something to say. Or some favorite recipes for your own cookbook. Or a fanciful tale that you’ve told nieces, nephews, grandchildren.

My first book, "The Everyday Enneagram, A Personality Map for Enhancing Your Work, Love, and Life……Everyday" started out as a simple workbook for my students so that they could apply the insights of the Enneagram personality system for themselves. Like Topsy, it just grew. Before I knew it, I was an author. That’s how it starts: one page at a time.

And here’s the best part about starting your own writing project. When you beg off extra committee work or attempt to extricate yourself from yet another volunteer conscription or even to say no to social obligations, all you have to say is "I’m sorry – I’d love to, but I’m working on a book." These words are as magical as "Open Sesame" was in that well worn fairy tale. People will back off immediately and likely say "Oh, I understand." Right after they say, "What are you writing about?" You can tell them if you know your writing end goal or you can say "I’m not sure yet where it is going" or "it’s personal".

I didn’t know the power of these magic words "I’m working on a book" until I started writing my second book. My time became my own again. And I was able to pick and choose which activities to engage in without guilt or subtle pressure. Coworkers, friends, committee members gave me unasked for but desperately needed support. And I didn’t have to choke out that oh-so-difficult word "no". It was understood.

And before you say that you can’t do it, that you don’t have a book in you – remember some books are very small. A large book is only 15 term papers of 20 pages each. You wrote more than that in just your high school career. Children’s stories are often very short.

Go ahead, dear menopause goddess. Free yourself. Start your book. Extricate yourself from unwanted or excessive obligations. And who knows? You might just be in for a very pleasant surprise. You might discover that you have a book in you after all!

(For more menopause and midlife wisdom from our Venus community, click below to order The Big M – and don’t forget our girlfriend’s special – buy one at full price and get the second at half price! the Big M

I’m not talking about a wrinkle that can be smoothed out by expensive creams or emollients. This wrinkle is one strictly of our own making. It’s the "Overcommitment" wrinkle and it can become entrenched before we know it.

It starts with the best of intentions. Confronting the second half of our lives, we menopausal goddesses often wish to make a contribution, to leave a legacy, to help make our world a better place. Alas, for midlife women, a disturbing trend takes place as we volunteer, mentor, and generally give back. We overcommit. We overextend. We overdo. In the midst of rediscovering ourselves, we lose ourselves. Again.

One of our Venuses recently shared that her fulfilling work for the local Lyme disease network coupled with volunteer time spent teaching school children about healthy food was now eating into that most precious of commodities: time to nurture herself.

Another of our satellite Venuses is retired, though not at all RETIRING. And she has found herself involved with a number of boards that are becoming the bulk of her "free" time. She laughs that she is working harder now than when she was part of the "workforce".

And for so many Venuses who are still part of the traditional workforce? Committees, charities, and extra work projects can insidiously leach into limited free time.

These stories are all too common. Having spent years nurturing others ( spouses, coworkers children, bosses) we are in the habit of saying "yes" when asked for help of any kind. Couple this with our desire to contribute and our natural feminine inclinations and you’ve got a setup for overcommitment and burnout.

We need to create a new volunteerism. We need a "SAVE THE MIDLIFE WOMAN" campaign. We need to extricate her from the nets of helping, much like we save dolphins from fishermans’ nets. We need to create habitat for her to nurture herself, whether it be a room or a corner or a space in a closet. A space that is her personal natural environment where she can retreat to daydream, make art, journal, or sleep if she wishes.

And when she is able to fill herself up with glorious, delicious TIME, she can then choose those arenas in which she will give her time and energy. With limits. With boundaries. Always with an eye to her most important project: Herself.

I’ll be the first to say that my own volunteering and giving back is incredibly rewarding, even necessary to me. But I’ll also cop to saying "yes" to too many wonderful endeavors only to find them becoming obligations and burdens rather than joys. Simply because "I" got lost in the shuffle. And losing oneself is a guaranteed fast track to resentment and exhaustion.

So join me. The time is now. "Save The Midlife Woman". It’s a good first step toward saving so much more.

(Stay tuned for the next blog entry where I’ll share a miraculous, foolproof secret method for extricating yourself from overcommitment.)

Most menopausal goddesses and their families greet this New Year with hope and trepidation. With the somewhat stark economic realities facing us, we gain a chance to look at what we spend with new eyes – moneywise AND timewise.

Theresa-Venus wrote in her own blog of Nov. 13, 2008 about Rediscovering Simple Joy. Potlucks replace dining out. Canoeing and cross-country skiing replace concerts and movies. (And as she notes, the exercise is a fantastic bonus!) Theresa’s blog

We’ve been gathering with family and friends to play Scrabble and watch old movies, ski and hike, eat and well……eat some more. If the adage is true that "what you do on the first day of the year is how you’ll likely spend the whole 12 months to come", then we’re in for a very RICH year indeed..

Boundaries. They are an issue that we menopausal goddesses have dealt with all our lives. We’ve explored our boundary problems over and over again at our Venus meetings. Years of excessive pleasing, helping, and giving have made us all too permeable and eventually just plain exhausted. And at no time is this more apparent than around the holidays.

We baby boomers, heck just women in general, bought into the Superwoman myth in our youth – and now we’re trying to be Supercrones. We could bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, and never never let him forget he’s a man. (As if he ever could!) Now at holiday time, we can work, craft, cook for our extending family, and be the best grandparents/aunts/elders the younger generation has ever seen. Yikes! A sure recipe for hapless holidays.

So it is with great joy that I can report at least one Venus-in-training has gently and successfully bolstered her boundaries. My daughter-in-law to be, Shana, and my son, Brian, invited us (and much more family) for Thanksgiving. I wondered how Shana would cope with all the stress of having way too many family members, cooking, and entertaining, since she has been working nonstop on editing the feature film she wrote and directed. I needn’t have worried – she is WAY smarter than I ever was.

She bought dinner – all cooked to perfection, by experts. My son and she set the table the day before – and – it was truly one of the best Thanksgivings I can remember. (The others were choreographed by Bobbi-Venus).

We actually visited and hung out together. We took the dogs for a walk. We watched a cheesy, fun movie. No one was sweaty, stressed, cranky, or tired. There was no clusterfunk in the kitchen. And the meal? Simply fantastic.

As the Venuses dissected, probed, and analyzed our all too feminine loose boundaries, we came up with advice for our daughters and the young Venuses in training. (Excerpted from The Big M).

"Set Appropriate Boundaries
Whew! This is a hard one since we are still learning how to manage this task ourselves. (Just read the first half of this chapter if you want to know how hard.) In order to have clear boundaries, you must know yourself. What are your values, beliefs, and break points? You must know how to care for yourself as well as you care for others. Start with self-knowledge, acceptance, and compassion and you will be well on the way to knowing your boundaries.

Watch for unconscious patterns such as wanting everyone to like you, pleasing everyone but yourself, minimizing your own accomplishments, and putting yourself last. Awareness is the key to breaking the hold of such habits.

One last word about boundaries – awareness must extend to others’ boundaries. While that may seem contradictory, appropriate boundary setting involves not only recognizing your own boundaries but honoring others as well. Unfortunately we’ve known (and been) too many women who finally discover their boundaries only to bludgeon others around them with their newfound discovery."
As for Shana? She could teach us menopausal goddesses a thing or two. And I’m so ready to learn.

(Only 6 more shopping days til Christmas – click below to order The Big M – and don’t forget our girlfriend’s special – buy one at full price and get the second at half price! Merry Christmas! the Big M