Ladies of a Certain Age ~ for those invisible powerful, dynamic, vital women

During the past month, despair and despondency have dripped from my conversations with my friends like a furious downpour of rain turning into icy snow. My emails, texts, and Facebook posts have also dripped the same dispositions.

What’s digging up this dung? The new Washington administration.

In the past, we may have burned our bras, marched to Washington, or paraded downtown in pink pussy hats. Today, defining the issues has grown challenging. Conflict, confusion, and chaos dominate the narrative.

Soooo? What’s a lady of a certain age to do?

I can only share ideas and actions that I find helpful. As the saying goes, “Take what you like and leave the rest!” I have garnered these insights from many people and organizations throughout my lifetime. None of them are original ideas or cure-alls.

Pausing when I feel agitated is my top guiding principle! Worry and hasty plans don’t work for me, nor does inventing a criminal case in my head or with friends to present in court.

I take long, slow breaths and exhale slowly as I release.

To stop the mayhem in my mind, I look away. I try to remember a pleasant time or look for something beautiful to behold: birds, clouds, trees, or my pets—anything to redirect my thoughts.

Acknowledge your feelings, but avoid acting on them. While screaming may offer relief, refrain from doing so in your car, in public, or near pets.

I find it beneficial to toss my feelings into the clouds and watch them drift away. Some people prefer to visualize burying them in the earth. (As a gardener, I worry they might compost and contaminate my veggies!)

Do these feelings evoke memories of other times, expanding like a hot air balloon? They do, inevitably. I bring myself back to the present.

I wonder if these feelings are taking residence in part of my body and how I can “evict” them. I’ve found that taking a shower or walking my dog are effective techniques for eviction.

Discussing my fears and concerns is beneficial. When I have no one to confide in, I share my feelings with my dog and cat. It amazes me how expressing myself to them seems to ease my worries, much like hanging wet clothes on a line to dry.

Words and phrases from beloved late friends occasionally come to mind. For instance, I hear Anna Marie asking, “Is the world burning and crumbling?” Each time I hear her, I reflect on my circumstances and realize that I am okay in this moment.

I meditate and often release what bothers me. I like to visualize my feelings and fears evaporating from my body like frost rising from the grass as the sun warms it in the morning. I remind myself to use my handy-dandy stop sign, which I learned about long ago in an Al-Anon meeting. When these worries try to enter my mind, I hold it up like a school crossing guard.

There have been other troubling times in my life. I think about some of the things I did to help myself back then—resources and actions I took. It often involved a commitment to keep going and to try to do the next right thing. I frequently prepared my favorite dinner: spaghetti, a green salad, and a chocolate dessert. I climbed into a warm bed early and pulled the covers over my head while whispering a few things I was grateful for, remembering that it is darkest just before dawn.