But I'm not the only one

I love dreamers - dreamers who back up their deepest imaginings with here & now BEing & DOing.  A deepest belief of mine is that we're all created to dream big & live awesome, from our earliest days to our last.

It's only 11:18 a.m. & my life is already brimful with experiencing dreams realized:

• Opening my day with pictures of the magical reception of two young people starting out on a life they've dreamed of - along with their family & friends - for many years.

• Sharing breakfast with the man who drives me nuts this >< much of the time & fills my heart with JOY >>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<< much.

• Seeing Adriann serving devoted Be Well customers with Rosie happily riding on her back, Ryan holding the wee baby in his arms, grinning like a mighty proud papa. (so many dreams captured in this sentence)

• Gwyneth whipping out her buttercream, sugar & flour magic.

• Jawing with Luke, who shines with every sort of present & future big dream.

• Soaking in so many ages of happy, smiling faces, especially the two itty bitties at an outside table, safe under shade, both snugged & sleeping against their mamas. 

• Back home, tracking down & sprucing up our portable dvd to take over to Peter - it served us well until getting our laptop, can now do yeoman duty for my big bro. (being in happy relationship with a sib - one of my greatest dreams come true)

• Putting my shoulder to the wheel - amazing how many dreams are sprinkled with Abba Ka Dab Ra when we invest a bit of time & strategic effort!

 

  
Not even noon & my lift is filled with dreams.  With my brain going into overdrive thinking about older friends who don't have my easy access to wheels, to circles of welcoming friends & pleasant acquaintances, to their own here & now dreams.  What is one of my GREATEST dreams?  Making that happen for more & more & more oldsters, elderly & ancients - mobility beyond their residence, connection to friends & communities, embracing their WHO as they pursue their present day heart's desires.

You may say I'm a dreamer...


  

Getting my bro

Why is it that my brother, Peter, has never been a mystery to me, while he was, to the day she died, a complete enigma to my mother?  Maybe it's as simple as the fact that I had boundaries on my relationships whereas she was 100% free range. 

Having boundaries is what frees me to partner up with Peter for our current pretty good relationship.  The two of us - and John.  John is what makes the relationship possible.  

Peter is notorious for talking at great length & only about himself or something of personal interest to HIM.  It's gotten to be an inside joke - seeing how long he'll go before asking about us.  I will give you that he typically asks, "How's life?" when we first greet.  But after that, he's typically off & running.  

John & I both agreed when we reconnected with Peter - December 2014 - that his time with us would be HIS time.  Peter could say do or go whatever, wherever he wanted.  Again, it's John that makes that possible.

Peter can go on about things that naturally irk or irritate me, might bring up difficult memories or trigger disturbing emotions.  Having John in the back seat is like having a heart-shaped sponge that just soaks up the potential arrrgggghhhhs without affecting him.  And it's John that goes into Best Buy or Staples or Walmart, leaving me reading in the car.  (The Universe has also partnered, because I invariably find a shady spot, even in the biggest Big Box parking lot.)  If it weren't for John soaking up the sound waves & letting me have space, it would be more than I could balance.

It is a gift to me, being able to be there for Peter.  Peter always went through life with a swagger, an outspoken assurance in his superiority, in his BIGNESS & the smallness of the rest of us.  There were the few people/families he idealized & the many he felt beneath him.  Those people & families didn't all have money position power, but they all stood out from the common rest.  It grieved me, even as a young woman, that Peter seemed so jumbled about how to live expansively, from a balanced core & with a mighty will.

We do very well in small doses.  Sunday phone calls from Peter have been an unexpected - greatly welcome - replacement for the occasional note or card from Mim.  The phone rings, my face lights up & either John or I predict - "It's Peter!"  

 

Last night, he asked what's needed to play a dvd.  Remember the spike of happiness I felt, realizing we could give him our little dvd player - now, we always use the laptop.  Will drop it over later today.  Then, he mentioned wanting to send a set of dvds down to our brother, Mike - in Australia.  I set the phone down & checked it out ~ yep, Australia uses a different set- up than ours.  BUT, Mike has two massively tech savvy children & either Scott or Karen might have their parents set up to play American dvds.  So, PRL will write to MGL to ask.

I don't know why I get my bro.  Mom always saw him back as a child.  "If you only knew him when..."  How many times I'd hear that phrase.  That little boy was safe for Mom, was a being she could get her head around, not the confusing, often heart-breaking adult who didn't seem able to fully realize let along make the best use of the awesome gifts of fairly good brains & fierce determination to be exceptional.

Unlike Mom, I've always seen the person in front of me.  And loved him, even when it was clear it wouldn't be reciprocated.  

One of the beauties of staying in touch, staying open to relationship, as we grow older is that certain things that were very important in our younger years can be muted, while other things that didn't matter much or at all in those years can take center stage as we inch into eldering.  I can't experience that with Mike & Kerry - that door has been shut locked bolted against me for years.  But I did, ultimately, with Mim.  And Peter is just down the 'pike.  

Giving thanks all over again to the Universe for providing an opening for new sibling growth.  Giving thanks to John for making it possible.  To Peter for being willing to partner with his baby sis for a better us.  And even to me for never saying never.  

Am 64 years old & life is good.  Ain't that grand?

IKIRU - May Film Fest

If you've never heard of the film IKIRU - well, that makes two of us.  And it is among the many great blessings that have come my way thanks to my spur-of-the-moment May Film Fest.

Instead of struggling to say what about this remarkable gem is so unforgettable, am abdicating that responsibility to Ernest Jagger, who wrote the following 5-star review back on 08/09/05 on Amazon:

This is a humble film with the soul of an angel. It isn't about a life so much as it is about the act of living. This film, in its quiet way, asks us to ponder what makes life meaningful. And it argues that our pursuit of life's quantity is misplaced, because it leads to neglect of life's quality.
 

It tells the story of a dying man's last days. Kanji Watanabe is a lifelong cog in a vast bureaucratic machine who has wasted his entire life shuffling papers. He is played by Takashi Shimura in one of the finest understated performances ever committed to film. Shot in black and white, it is melancholic, bleak and subdued. Likely, Kurosawa chose to film in black and white to reflect the starkness of the protagonist's last days; the way the world looks through dying eyes; and it works.

 

 

 

It is the mark of Kurosawa's genius how the story and the character sneak up on us. At first, Mr. Watanabe seems an uninspiring study, hardly worthy of our sympathy. A small meek fragile man, he almost stoops under the weight of his own life. He learns of his illness in a well-known opening scene that combines pathos with cruel irony, and before we know it, we start to care about this little man who life treads so callously underfoot. What at first looks like lack of courage reveals itself to be lack of motivation. What we take to be a spineless career of dull conformity turns out to be a sacrifice made for the sake of an unappreciative son. 

This film has layers and subtlety and visual poetry presented with understatement, finesse and restraint: a wonderful combination that shows the deepest respect for the intelligence of the audience.

 

 

 

The moral turning point in the story is reached when Mr Watanabe determines to accomplish one worthwhile achievement before his life ends. We don't realize how involved we have become in this little man's life until we find ourselves mentally urging him onward to overcome every bureaucratic obstacle he encounters. Not so long ago, with the prospect of a long life still stretched out before him, he was one of the very bureaucrats whose job it was to obstruct and confound just such aspirations. Now, with barely months to live, he makes it his duty to champion them. This turn of events is one of the most touching acts of redemption in all of cinema. By making amends for an unworthy past, an ordinary everyman finds life's meaning in his very last act of living.
 

I have watched hundreds of films since Ikiru, but there are scenes from this film that have burned themselves into my heart and are as clear today as the moment I first saw them. This occurs not because the director achieved an especially vivid special effect, but because of how deeply we come to care for our little hero. The famous scene at the end is one of the most dignified and gracious artistic statements ever filmed, yet it is a scene of wounding simplicity: a perfect epitaph to a cinematic elegy.

 

 

Kurosawa was one of the greatest of all filmmakers and this was his best and most personal film. It's a crime that his work is known only among the literati of the film world, and not to a wider audience. I cannot promise you that you will like this film, because it is paced with a measured and quiet deliberation that is utterly foreign to those raised on a western diet of car crashes, yammering idiots and pixie dust. 

 

You need patience, introspection and empathy to appreciate this gentle masterpiece, but if you are the kind of person who is moved by pity, tenderness, humility and grace, then I envy you your first viewing of this ode to the human spirit.

 

 

Aidan & Josh - high time & high tech

Last night, John & I enjoyed a delightful supper with a grannie client & one of her besties, downstairs at her VERY nice senior residence.  Between the entree & dessert, I quietly slipped away.

Headed upstairs, to the 3rd floor Activity Room, where - as a surprise to Anne - I set up my laptop to watch the live stream wedding of her sister's grandson to the granddaughter of friends.  

She was delighted!  And, I am proud to say, loved the music, in spite of it being just the teensiest traditional.  I know a lot of older - and not so older - people who would have bristled at the lack of recognizable wedding music.  Not Anne!  She enjoyed all the unfamiliar songs, took special delight in being able to see them performed by members of the bridal party & dear friends of the happy couple, tucked up in the choir loft with their bridesmaids & musicians.  

 

The shots of the gathering friends & family, the beautiful architectural points of the cathedral, the glorious stained glass - what gave Anne particular joy were the shots of the flowers, the garland along the choir stalls, the bouquets at the end of the pews, the arrangements on the altars, most especially the occasional shot of an individual flower or grouping. I could feel her heart soar.

How wonderful to sit there, in the Activity Room but really several miles down the road, in a stunning church set atop a gracious hill looking across a small valley, remembering our own weddings there.  May Aidan & Josh have as smile-filled memories of their May 2016 Big Day as we have of our September 1989 wedding, as Anne has of her December 1948 joy.  

What a wonderful use of technology to bring people together.  Anne not only got to see her great-nephew's wedding, she had a more intimate experience of it than any of us expected.  What fun to SEE the couple's faces throughout the special moments, but especially as the ring bearer decided the choir seats were perfect for running around & between - no tension, just smiles & laughter at the sounds of his glee.  

As the wedding party headed back down the aisle & out the church, was better able to give a who's who of bridesmaids & groomsmen.  As the gathered throng filtered out, pointed out faces that Anne knew, many of which she loved.

Smiling, remembering her practically floating to the car, as we headed out for a post-wedding ramble, her 2nd dessert of the glorious night & iced tea toasts to the happy couple!

To the people behind the technology - thanks for special moments that gladdened a great-aunt's heart.

To the folks at the cathedral - thanks for making it possible for Anne to get to a wedding that mattered without leaving the comfort of Rydal Park on a hot but fabulous night.

To Josh & Aidan, now Mr & Mrs (after a courtship that feels like it started in the cradle!) - thanks for sharing your wedding.  Big grins to you, letting y'all know how much Josh's 94-year old great-aunt enjoyed every minute of your music & your moments.  May yesterday be the start of countless, endless happiest days of your lives!

Credits
all Mary Engelbreit

It sometimes takes many years

Am continually amazed at the aha moments that come with many years of knowledge & experience.  It wasn't until the closing weeks of Mom's life that I learned the WHY behind the profoundly baffling way she approached life, a misconstrued understanding of a core principle of faith that had been hopelessly mangled in her mind.  It was an essential piece of information finally shared because I'd gotten wise enough to ask a better question & Mom had gotten secure enough to let it register & answer.  Some things take time & experience.

Nowhere is that more evident than in my marriage.  It's a constant amazement how our relationship reveals new depths of wonder ~and~ moments of arrrrrgggggghhhhhh despair.  And epiphanies.  

Discovering that Mom believed that a tenet of her faith was that what we think in our heart of hearts is more important than what we ultimately DO was a major AH HA!  It didn't erase decades of confusion, but it did explain them.  Sure, it was tough going through all those times when Mom would look at me with confusion & hurt etched across her eyes because I just didn't get that while she'd acted unfairly -and- against reason, she done so while in complete agreement with what I'd advocated.  To her, being in agreement countered the contrary action.  

 

A similar moment came up just yesterday, with John.  I've been increasingly frustrated that certain unintentionally hurtful or just really really irritating behaviors are just as likely to pop up now as they were 26 years ago, when first experienced.  The epiphany came thanks to a cellophane-wrapped mint that John was about to unwrap during the musical prelude at a wedding.

I couldn't believe it.  Unwrapping a cellophane-wrapped candy is, to me, the equivalent of raking fingernails across a chalkboard.  And John knows that. But he wanted that mint & how the unwrapping might rankle me just wasn't on his radar.  

Well, that tiny moment in time became a mega aha.  Later, John fervently defended himself, pointing out all the times that he used to do it & reminding me that he rarely does it anymore.  "You can't see how much I've improved."

With those few words, a big bright flashing light clicked on.  A light I might not have been able to see even just a few years back, being so wrapped up in my aggravation.  One he might not have thought to express just as he did.  But there it was, along with sweet revelation.

I am not being snotty when say that change is just not up John's alley, that if he hasn't changed over 26 years of a great reason - loving me - ain't going to happen.  That I've got to change my attitude about it, but the hits will keep on coming.  It's not that he doesn't care, not that he doesn't really really really want to be different.  He just doesn't get the process of change.

It turns out he genuinely doesn't.  Just like my dear old mother couldn't fathom my despair when she'd believe one thing & do the opposite - "But I agree with you!" - John was continually distressed at my inability to see how much he'd improved.  Where he once did something frequently, he now does it only rarely.  He'd changed.

Sometimes it takes many years of experiencing things to realize what seems to be the root of a problem.  To John, 80% improvement is change.  And he is right - it is.  And it is not what I mean when talking about changing.  To me, change means no longer doing something.  Ever.  Because partial change means it can still happen, I just don't know when or where or how.

We would not have gotten to last night's epiphany without years of experience under our belt, without lots & lots & lots of learning new ideas & possibilities, of being open to discovering that what we'd always thought was one way might be a very different other.  

John was right - he has changed.  He doesn't unwrap cellophane-wrapped candies without first giving me a heads up.  At least not always.  Just sometimes.  That is, I fully admit, change.

My definition of change is a little different.  I've changed because I don't go to bed leaving dishes in the kitchen sink.  Ever.  I squeegee down the sides of the shower after using it.  Always.  That's change.  I do a really good job of keeping the computer studio tidy, the floor clear of anything that shouldn't be there, books put back where they belong.  I do that most of the time, but not always.  That's improvement, not change.  

If I was to give advice to the young friends who were married yesterday, I'd tell them that remaining open to seeking & hearing what each other speaks in & from the heart won't always make marriage an easy path, but that there is no path without it.  That they will discover things - often big shocking "Are you kidding?" things - as years roll by, because they finally have enough life experience or fresh knowledge or new wisdom to safely see & handle gnarly issues, to encounter & face down daunting obstacles.  That it's not about learning new things about our beloved that will make the biggest difference, but what new things insights awareness we glean about ourself.  So keep looking, stay open, remain loving.  Even when you throw in the occasional arrrgggghhhh.

It''s not that it sometimes takes many years for the magic to grow, deepen, become REAL.  With relationships, count on ALWAYS!

Graphics:
all Mary Engelbreit