The year my dad turned 50, suddenly my parents were talking about all the unexpected deaths of people their age. It was like a wave or something. The year I turned 50, a gastroenterologist trying to bully me into gastric bypass surgery warned me that all the bad decisions one can get away with before 50 suddenly start bringing real consequences at and after 50. I was sharing this once with a now-deceased older lady with whom I was volunteering named Micki. Micki told me life is like that: there’s a big bunch of folks that don’t survive their 50s, but then once you get over that hump, most folks make it a lot longer. What a concept.
Certainly I have been proving the truth about those consequences in my post-50 years with one health challenge after another (recently I mused aloud to a coworker that I suppose my 2024 surgeries will be related to my long term carpal tunnel syndrome). Many of us were sucker-punched by life late this year when a dear friend of ours in our age group was diagnosed with cancer and passed away suddenly within a few weeks, days before his eldest son’s wedding and weeks before the birth of a grandchild. Mike was one of those really special human beings – the kind who make the world seem like a better place when you’re with them. His wry sense of humor and his way of thinking deeply were two of my favorite among many things to love about him.
All of this leaves me wanting to cling to intentionality and presence, rather than giving my days away to the tyranny of lesser, louder things. It makes me glad to be investing heavily in time with the grandkids. It makes me aware that the more I fill my life up with “doing good things,” the less available I am to press deeply into living, into love, into joy. I hope to never go back to an overloaded calendar.
My word for 2024 snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking. For sure it is INTENTIONALITY. To that end, some items below.
trying to stick around
In the department of body stuff, I have a checkered history. I don’t lack knowledge, but my application is spotty. I’m prone to self-comforting via delicious calories. I’m inclined to deem myself too busy for exercise. I tend not to take action until my body issues so vigorous a protest to my mistreatment that I can’t ignore it.
In 2023 I reached the most I’ve ever weighed, while also being tired beyond tired of the topic of weight. I’ve reached the “none of your damned business” attitude when it comes to others’ opinions on the topic, to the point that if I happen to lose weight, I wish people would just leave it alone (compliments on that front mostly tend to sound to me like wow, you were really awful, good on you for being LESS awful).
Still, living comfortably in this body for the remainder of my earth time is surely contingent to some extent on my dropping pounds. I ended up back in physical therapy late in 2023 to help with some pain issues; conversations with my amazing PT person helped me find willingness to try to prod myself in a better direction. I signed up for Noom, resolving it would be enough over the holidays to just stop the steady gain, which I did accomplish. 2024 will include working toward a body that feels less miserable.
Those conversations with that same PT person also inspired me to sign up for an “Aqua Bootcamp” class at our gym; it turns out it is EXACTLY what I need. It’s fun, and the teacher changes things up enough to not feel boring or repetitive. I breathe hard and make my muscles burn, all without painful impact. And – bonus! – while I’m just as clumsy in the water as I am on land, it feels less visible/embarrassing. Which is nice. And: whirlpool time after (in a lovely hot tub so huge I never need sit knees-to-knees with others) is a perfect finish.
I worked with my chiropractor quite a bit too this year, related to my carpal tunnel hands and my pinched nerve elbows, and she persuaded me to try acupuncture. I was terrified of the needles; a Facebook friend assured me there was nothing to fear and she was so right. I. LOVE. ACUPUNCTURE!! Just thinking about it makes my body start relaxing. Helps my body, helps my mind, I’m hooked.
My gynecologist persuaded me this year to get a Mirena IUD when I went to her about some female difficulties and only very few signs of menopause on the horizon here at my “approaching sixty in a few years” leg of the journey. She told me almost all gynecologists use them to shut down some of the things that had been troubling me for years. It was good advice, and I forward it to all my fellow women.
So, for 2024: more helping my body be a happier place to live.
mind stuff
I signed up for a self-study Master Gardener course last fall. I started it, but haven’t had the bandwidth to finish it on time (I should have finished in December). The good news all the resources of the course are available to me indefinitely, so I can finish on a schedule that works for me – hopefully by the end of 2024. As someone who has always identified heavily with being an achiever, it is humbling to take this approach. But I think it’s good for me. And I’m excited about it.
I got a couple of planning books very recently to take forward with me into the year.
The first is a 5-year garden book. It has space to draw out the garden layouts, spaces to track weather and other conditions, places to log tool and seed inventories, places to record results, etc. It’s a beautiful book and I’m excited to use it, partly to study patterns and learn lessons, and partly just to have something fun to review later and/or pass down to my kids.
The second is a household management log type thing. A hard paper copy to keep various inventories, records of annual, monthly, weekly, and daily stuff, etc. It is in a 3-ring binder format and I’ve already been adding additional sections. I think it will help me be a better homeowner, take better care of our stuff, and manage our money better.
preparing for new beginnings
When my daughter and grandkids had moved in with us and we had figured out this was going to be a long term thing, we knew right away that while our little 800 square foot house meets our needs for now (crowded as it is), it wouldn’t really be practical as the kids got bigger. They’ve gotten bigger. And on top of that, ratcheting up the gardening, canning, freezing, dehydrating, etc. has made our tiny kitchen feel almost impossibly small. We do a sort of choreographed dance to make things work. The OUR HOUSE IS TOO SMALL vibe has grown exponentially this year.
Right now our house is pretty beaten up from living here 7 years and not doing a lot of maintenance or improvement. One of the things I’ll do in that household management book is work up a list of what needs to be done to prepare the house to be sold. We’d like to move somewhere bigger and maybe more out on the edge of town, where G could maybe have a goat and/or some other little outdoor animals. We stay so busy with work and the kids that if I don’t make a plan, we’re never going to have the house ready to be sold. I’m aiming to have us ready by this time next year.
The only thing that might save us from a big move is our hope about the house behind ours. It had fallen from neglect to disrepair to ruination, but in the last month or two the owner has swooped in to replace the swiss-cheese-like roof and replace the broken windows. If they’d let it go for a price we could manage, my daughter and the kids could be our neighbors across the alley instead of our upstairs roommates. That too could be very workable to keep them close enough for the current levels of working together for the kids (though it doesn’t involve any goats or other critters for G). I’m looking for an opportunity to catch them and ask about their intentions.
work
I have long called my employer the best place I’ve ever worked. My boss and I synchronize easily, and he is kind and generous and wise and funny. My fellow leadership team members inspire me. The work is purposeful. I have the right level of independence. I’m appreciated loudly and regularly. I’m continually challenged/allowed to grow beyond what I had thought possible. All of this is the ONLY reason I managed to stay there through the horror of the pandemic deaths and the soul-wearying navigation of pandemic protocols.
I told my boss after the worst of it that if events like that happened again, I didn’t think I’d be able to do it all again (we stay honest). Recovering from it all has been almost as hard for me is going through my divorce was. The recovery is not complete yet, though I continue to do the work.
There was a passage of a couple of months in 2023 where I started to despair on that front. The PTSD and anxiety ratcheted way back up. I kept working to maintain equilibrium. My dad kept busting me for covering up when he’d hug me and feel how hard my heart was racing. I started thinking maybe I might have to change jobs to remove myself from the scene of the COVID trauma. I had the conversation with my husband and my daughter to prepare them for the possibility. I started watching ads on Indeed.
But also I kept doing the work. And in the fall I took a week long “staycation” to do yard projects and try to get a reset on my interior.
It worked.
I’m back in the game. I’ve found the handles for embracing the things I love about my job again. I’ve finally reached a place where COVID news doesn’t make me feel desperate or threatened – oh, it’s still real, still there, still has to be taken seriously…but I finally found a place to stop it from robbing my joy.
So for 2024: pressing into that. I love my job, and I can always keep building on what and how I do there.
Beyond that, my 2024 ambition is simple. Be intentional and present with the family. Stay in conversation with God, and open to direction.
It’s enough.