In Retrospect

It's that time of year that makes me look both backward and forward. Where have I been this last year? Where am I going next year? I'm at that stage of life where years are more precious because I have fewer of them left. I feel more urgency to fit in the "have to's" as well as the "want to's."

I spend many hours a week exercising -- circuit training, yoga, cardio work. I can't say I enjoy any of it except for yoga and swimming, yet I do it (mostly) uncomplainingly because it allows me to move with more agility than I could otherwise. It's a "have to" rather than a "want to." And without doubt, it's a habit I must continue into future years.

Although the most exercise accomplishes now is damage control as my body deteriorates, I have seen some increased flexibility in yoga. Surprisingly, I also had a breakthrough in meditation. Stopping one's brain from jumping from thought to thought is a goal in quieting the mind. They recommend techniques like letting each thought fall over a cliff. I've rarely accomplished it, but a couple of times in just the past weeks, I became blissfully aware that my mind wanted to settle into nothingness, with deep breathing my only occupation. It was wonderful.

This year I felt some mental forward momentum that made me more alert, aware, and interested. Starting this blog was part of it because I settled into being a senior hummingbird instead of just an over-ripe middle-aged hummingbird well past my prime. My sincere thanks to my readers!

I also took on two new class challenges -- clay sculpture and fiction writing. In my childhood, I must have missed clay sculpture in school and camp. Because of writing my book, Memoirs of a Middle-aged Hummingbird, I was able to join the National League of American Pen Women, an organization of women writers, artists, and composers. Because of getting to know artists, I wanted to experience a bit of what they did, and why.

Clay sculpture is an organic material that offers a relationship with the one molding it. This semester, I produced several pieces that survived firing, and each one has a special place in my home. I've noticed I smile each time my gaze falls upon them. I doubt I have any special talent for it, but I've joined up for the next semester to learn more techniques, and possibly deepen my relationship with the clay.

Fiction writing also surprised me. What wanted to come out in my stories was me between the ages of 20 and 40, a time of my life I never thought I'd ever write about. But, my years as a social worker, a wife and mother, and what led up to my divorce was more unusual and compelling than any make-believe story I could think up. I followed my muse somewhat unwillingly since painful memories still hurt. Perhaps I can find a new writing direction in creative non-fiction.

Another stand-out memory of 2009 was my getting together with an old friend I hadn't seen in many years. Unfortunately, a very pleasant time ended with my falling in a pretty park and breaking my right knee. Since I'd fallen and broken my left knee in 2007, falling for a second time in two years brought me to the brink of depression.

Fortunately, my 11-year-old granddaughter had long been planning a two-week visit with me. She didn't give me the opportunity to feel sorry for myself. So, I just put my energy into getting the knee back in shape. With patience and exercise, it healed. Now I've added additional reaction time and balance exercises to my routine.

A peculiar side effect of falling was that I lost my sense of smell even though I didn't hit my head when I fell. Five tries at acupuncture didn't help. Of all the senses, I guess the sense of smell is the least traumatic to lose. Occasionally, I get one strong whiff of something before the smell fades away. I most miss the smell of the salty ocean, coffee, and flowers.

But my sense of taste remains, continuing my daily confrontation with food. I've gained some unwanted weight this past year. The solid nutritional advice of Weight Watchers for the past few years helped, but not enough or long enough. I'm back to where I was (sigh)!

I'm a year older. A year wiser?

And on to 2010! What lies ahead??

As I ponder, noises wash over and around me. Gathered in a house perfect for crowds, the many adults speak only Chinese. The innumerable children, my granddaughter among them, look Chinese, but speak only English to one another. The gathering brings together parts of my unusual multicultural life. Once again, I am the only non-Chinese in the group. But rather than my being in China now, these Chinese are living in the United States. The bridges I worked hard to build, and then maintained and nurtured for 20 years, are still strong.

I know that not only in 2010, but for years to come, China, my Chinese friends, the six Chinese children for whom I'm their American grandma, whether here, there, or somewhere else in the world they migrate to, will be in my life. It's familiar and comfortable, yet dynamically changing from year to year.

I'm ready for 2010. Are you?