I’m looking for a large book to put under my macbook before I sit down with it in my lap. I grab the nearest qualifying book: Diana - Portrait of a Princess. There’s a photo of her on the paper bookcover that is captivating; beautiful and glamorous, she appears fresh and wild, majestic and magical, at the same time.
That’s what makes me think of her now—I first married within weeks of Diana and Charles, had a child in the same timeframe, and I often ruminated from afar in those early childhood/motherhood years, on what a great mother she seemed to be. Seeing those two boys turn into the young men they have, and how great they turned out (from the available evidence), is heartwarming to see. That first child of mine turned out great, also. Motherhood, I’ve decided, is always going to challenge me. I’ll never have it all figured out. I actually used to think that was possible, that I’d eventually just know what to do in every situation. Ha! It’s a guessing game and I find myself winging it a lot. Teenage boys are, of course, a very unique breed, capable of random acts of greatness and boundless energy, and often immersed in that special human mood reserved for teenagers. You know, the one where your decades’ worth of life experience “don’t count for anything” and, you keep looking for the Bang Head Here sign because you’ve tried everything else. Ah yes, an adventure indeed. But, that’s not why I started writing today. I digressed.
Or is this another digression? Hard to tell in a blog. Anyway, I called a friend to wish her a belated birthday this morning. We were talking about men (she’s married, I’m divorced) and she voiced to me her theory as to why she’s enjoying the company of older women now. “Women my age and up,” she said, which is mid-50s, “are still curious and still learning and growing, expanding. They’re wiser, more confident, and that’s fun to be around. They’re more interesting because they’re more interested.”
I agreed with her, and she went on to say, “Men, on the other hand, stay the same. If they were a horny pig at 17, they’ll be a horny pig at 87. They complain that women always want to change them. I don’t think so. I think, we just want them to change too, internally, to keep up with us. They don’t. And who they are at 25 is not so cute when they’re 65.”
Hmmm … food for thought, eh? I’ve always enjoyed my girlfriends, at every age. I recognized a kinship in the connection that is worth cultivating and nurturing, because girlfriends are there for each other in ways beyond normal loyalty, love and concern. We go through life and death together, literally, and those relationships are rock-solid when you take care of them.
My birthday friend did concede that there are the obvious exceptions to her rule. I had to tell her that in my circles of friends, the larger percentage of males are having an active spiritual life, in one way or another, than not, and that was satisfying to take note of. At the Earth Clock Equinox celebration last Saturday I’d bet almost half of the 75+ people that turned up were male.
Human relationships, family relationships, work relationships, all offer plenty of opportunity to learn more about ourselves. I’m grateful for the relationships with my girlfriends, some of which span most of five decades. They’re a constant in my life, a touchstone of support when my head starts spinning at the speed of Life around me. So thanks, ladies, goddesses and girlfriends in my life. I so appreciate you and all your magic, and how it enriches my life every day. I hope I do the same for you.
PS I think we should all send our (clean) panties to John Boehnert. He seems to want what we have, which he can’t, but perhaps a million panties will be consolation.
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