Friday, July 25, 2014

Beautiful Old Broads Are Happy Girls



Hello Dear Ones,

Eons ago, there was a stand-up comedian who opened his act with the question, “Is everybody happy?”  Happiness—a fleeting feeling that humans  chase after in one form or another all their lives.  Call it joy, contentment, bliss, whatever label, we all yearn for it.  Press our noses against the pane of life and look for it.

One guy, Eric Weiner, wrote a book called “The Geography of Bliss”  He went on a hunt for the happiest place on earth and took the reader along for the ride.  It’s a fun trip and Weiner often leaves you giggling and laughing at his experiences.  In fact, while reading this, I venture to say you’ll be happy.  Of course happiness we all know is subjective.  I can only say I chuckled my way through the chapters. 

Weiner describes himself as an unhappy soul who’d like to find happiness.  Hence the book.  His conclusions; happiness is 100% relational and there are many paths to it.
It’s not what we believe that makes us happy but the act of believing in anything.  Envy is toxic.  So is excessive thinking.  Which gives weight to an observation by another Eric,  Eric Hoffer,  “The search for happiness is one of the chief sources of unhappiness.”

So what about money?  Can you buy happiness?  I admit financial security is a comforting thing to have, but how much is enough?  According to a study published
in 2011 in Time Magazine, the magic number is $75,000.  That’s the income at which happiness peaks.  Exactly what that means I’m not sure.  How can happiness peak?  Its not bread dough we’re talking about.  It’s an elusive state of mind.  In fact, are we capable of judging our state of happiness?  Sometimes we don’t even realize we’re happy…we take it for granted.  

                        Happiness is a trembling thing
                                    Like a hummingbird wing
                        You can’t hold it or tame it
                                    Or store it in a cloud
                        To retrieve on demand.

                                    So don’t hold out your hand.  

Friday, July 18, 2014

Beautiful Old Broads talk more about birthdays

Dear Ones,

Birthdays.  As we grow old, like ivy,  they are entwined in memories.  Turning 18, our 21st.  That was a big deal.  And of course 40.  A landmark one.  And then before we can blink, we’re  65!  Life is  swift.  However, no one has written or celebrated being 78 as far as I know.  So having just turned that age, I thought I’d write a poem about it.  Hope it stirs your heart.  Isn’t that what poems are for?   


On being 78
                                                                                                By Patti Ross

            I’m deliciously free and chirpy and chipper

            And terrified and scared and wary and weak

            What will the future bring?  How will it unfold?

            I can’t google the answer to that now can I?

                                                                        I’m old.

            Times I feel such joie de vivre…such bliss

            Savor a stray kiss that lands on my cheek like a breeze

            Reminding me I’m loved.  Oh please.

            I petition the saints yet life won’t stand still though I  

            Genuflect twice.  No dice. 

            Maybe there’s a “Dummy’s Guide to being 78”?

            But wait, upon reflection I’m hearing joyful notes surround me.

            And a Sunday morning softness slips over my fears.

                                                                         I’m 78.




  

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Beautiful Old Broads talk about cats

                                                                        SOCKS


Friday, July 4, 2014

Beautiful Old Broads celebrate the 4th



Dear Ones,

Hope you all have a bang-up 4th of July wherever you are.  Next Friday my post will be about CATS.  See you then.      Celebrate the day

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world.  Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has."        Margaret Mead.