You know what old people are like...

This post is the 2nd in a series based on the well known poem "The invitation" from Oriah Mountain Dreamer

"It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive."

We use numbers to define our lives.

The number of dollars in our bank account…

The number that pops up when we step on the scale…

The number of friends we have…

Numbers for the purpose of measuring growth can be really helpful.

When those numbers bring limitations we can run into trouble.

I believe one number above all has the power to stop us in our tracks.

The one I’m referring to is the number of candles on your birthday cake.

When an ill-conceived perspective on social norms or a limiting belief about what is and isn’t “appropriate” for someone “your age” takes the place of your actual heart’s desire a shift happens that prohibits you from living authentically.

Personal style, work life, relationships and leisure pursuits are all impacted by your ability to be defined by your longings rather than the restrictions you have placed on your life because of your age.

The writer of The Invitation is interested in what we are actually willing to risk in order to have the life we really want. So am I.

Here are some tips on how to balance limiting beliefs about age to get unstuck.

1. When making a life choice distinguish between your inner world and your outer world. Your inner world speaks to what you long for. Your outer world is about the story you make up about what you believe people will think. Which feels more satisfying, choosing based on the opinions and tastes of others or choosing based on your own desires and natural curiosity?

2. Start small. Perhaps that giant, full back Chinese dragon tattoo you've been dreaming of is too much of a commitment. Consider a subtle shift, see how it feels and thoughtfully expand. A new hairstyle, shop at a store you wouldn't normally go to or sign up for a couple of lessons for something you've wanted to try.

3. Get inspired. Who do you admire and what about the way they live would you like to have more of in your own life? This isn't about trading in your desires for theirs but rather finding a healthy level of inspiration from those whom you admire.

There is untapped love and life in each of us.

Removing the walls that keep us from that love and life not only serves us but also serves the world.

I believe that process makes God smile.

I am an "imperfectionist"

I am an imperfectionist.

The main difference between perfectionism and imperfectionism is that imperfectionism exists.

You are not perfect and you never will be.

Sit with that for a moment.

Think about the context in which perfection usually comes up.

We rarely hear people say, “It came out so great because I’m such a perfectionist.”

Perfection does not fuel beautiful work but often comes up as an excuse for beautiful work to never even get started.

“My problem is that I am such a perfectionist”

Really means:

“I am terrified to put myself out there for fear of being vulnerable”

Brene Brown puts it like this

“Perfectionism is self-destructive simply because perfection doesn’t exist. It’s an unattainable goal. Perfectionism is more about perception than internal motivation, and there is no way to control perception no matter how much time we spend trying,”.

Are you a self-described perfectionist?

What are you compelled to “put out there” but you don’t because you are afraid of being embarrassed?

We need it

We need you to be brave

We need your best

Not your perfection

It doesn’t exist

Just your best

Your picture

Your song

Your poem

Your research

Your heart

Your best

Can we have something by the end of the day?

It’s early….

Somewhere.

Blacks, Jews, Hispanics and Juanita

Ed turned 95 on Saturday.

He walks like a 70 year old and smiles like a teenager.

My gift to Ed was a question.

His gift to me was an answer.

"Hey Ed, what's your earliest memory?" I asked.

I gave him time to think...

(With 95 years worth of memories, you need to allow a minute or two for sorting and recall)

He recalled being about five years old and having a girlfriend who lived next door.

"Brooklyn, 1922, in our neighborhood there were blacks, Jews, Hispanics... all of us together" he shared.

"My girlfriend was named Juanita, she was Hispanic but I'm not sure what kind," he paused.

"I was a Jew... Still am... Proud of it."

Juanita had an older brother who loved bacon.

Ed's earliest memory was Juanita's big brother taking him for walks down to the butcher shop.

In those days the butcher would hand out a free sample of his special bacon.

"As I mentioned, I'm a Jew and in those days my family didn't eat the bacon," he explained.

"The butcher would give me a sample and I'd give it to Juanita's big brother."

"He was happy to have the bacon and I didn't care.  I just liked going for a walk."

I inquired about segregation and the culture of his neighborhood.

He waxed about being poor, being in Brooklyn, and being alive.

Here is what came up for me during our chat:

Separation is a choice and it rarely serves us well.

Culturally or individually we are (generally) better together.

From the Irish potato famine came this powerful quote:

"It is in the shelter of each other that the people will live."

Here's a question for you...

In what ways are you a shelter for the people, and in what ways are you a fortress to keep yourself and your   opinions clean?

Who do you avoid and why?

How does that change if it is 1922 and your neighbors are Ed and Juanita?

Yes you can have my bacon.

I am happy just to walk with you...

Happy birthday, Ed.