One of my favorite musicals is "South Pacific." I adore the movie
with Mitzi Gaynor. She is such a spunky young lady. One of my favorite
numbers is "I'm Going to Wash That Man Right Out of my Hair." In the
movie she has decided that her relationship with a French man on the
island where she is stationed with the military will not work for many reasons.
She
dances and sings this number on the beach. Each and every time that I
go to the beach I am Mitzi Gaynor singing joyously about washing a man
out of my hair. It is absolutely magical to me to not only wade through
the waves, but to dance through them, singing at the top of my lungs.
For obvious reasons at the age of almost 61 I do NOT do this when there
are lots of people around. I prefer to solo, by myself, alone.
For
those magical moments I am again young, and my body is lithe and
unencumbered by age. After I finished my dance this morning I thought
about the difference between the way I danced that number at the beach
when I was young, and now. It was an easy realization that although my
body has more limitations now, my spirit is just as young, as free, and
as happy as that young woman I used to be.
Most people
at this vantage point of life say, "I don't feel like that many years
have passed." It does seems impossible to me. On the other hand, I have children
and their march through the years testifies to me that I HAVE lived all
of those years.
On the other hand, I'm STILL HERE! I'm
still upon this earth, this world. In many ways I appreciate my life
far better than I did as a young woman. Back then there were so many
questions. I felt as though absolutely every single part of my life was
an enormous question mark. Shall I go to college. What line of work
should I pursue. Shall I get married? Who will I marry? Will I have
children? How many children? What will we name them? On and on and
on.
Now? I know who I married, and I was truly,
deeply blessed with my marriage. Even though he is no longer on earth
physically, I know that his spirit lives on and is close to me still. I
know how many children that we had, and what we named them. The
questions that so troubled me at 20 until 40 are answered now.
There
are other types of questions that still need answers, but I no longer
feel as insecure, and vulnerable as I ponder them. The perspective of
living for 61 years shows that I've been through tough stuff before, and
I most probably will be again. On the other hand, I can face those
things with confidence.
The best thing of all is
knowing that just because I AM 61 I don't have to give up, sit in a
comfy chair and wait for death. There are still ever so many wonderful
things that I want to do, and need to do. I would love to hear from
some of those that read these post. I want to hear the marvelous things
you're doing at 20, 30, 40 or beyond. (I truly believe that after the
age of 50 we're all the same age).
I'm excited for a
new place, new people, and new opportunities to grow. Here's a toast to
a quote we hear often but still has great value, "Life is not about
waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the
rain."