family

Getting older is not for the faint of heart. It brings new aches and pains, medical issues, and many hard decisions. All of that can feel overwhelming at times, but getting older also brings new freedom—well, at least it has for me.

I subscribe to Beth Kempton on Substack (https://bethkempton.substack.com/) and have taken a few of her online workshops. Beth sends out a Soul Circle Journal Note to her subscribers each week. It focuses on one word and how it relates to our writing practice. This week’s word was PURPOSE. Beth’s words have stuck with me since I read them on Monday.

“If we always force ourselves to begin with the purpose of a thing before any words have flowed onto the page, we are in danger of (1) missing out on what it could be because we are too attached to what we think it should be.”

Getting back to aging. Beyond my writing practice, I started thinking back to my purpose/s in life over the years and how much time I wasted on what I thought “should be” instead of focusing on what “could be.” My younger self was constantly worried about being a good enough student, friend, wife, mother, or teacher. How did I measure up to everything and everyone around me?

I have no regrets, but I could have been more open to taking a few risks or trusting myself more. Now that I am in the fourth quarter of this game of life, I realize that I don’t worry much about the “should be” but focus instead on what “could be.” I am coddiwompling (traveling purposefully toward an as-yet-unknown destination) through life and leaving myself open to what “could be.” Never could a younger me be able to let go and wander without a travel plan. That only came with the wisdom of age.

**Coddiwomple is my OLW for 2025.

Be present in all things and thankful for all things. Maya Angelou

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it is about food, family, and football. There are no presents to buy or wrap, no candy to put in baskets, and no high expectations. Yet, it can still cause me anxiety. Why?

Maybe it is the memories of my childhood Thanksgiving, when the turkey was never finished roasting on time and tensions ran high.

Maybe it is the memories of the Thanksgiving of my early parenting days when the turkey at my parents’ house still wasn’t finished on time, and we stressed over whether our hungry kids would “behave.”

Maybe it is the memories of hosting Thanksgiving dinner and all the people stuffed into my little house. Once you sat down at the table, you didn’t move until it was time to clear the plates for dessert. Maybe it is the memory of the first time we gave up hosting to the next generation. I’m not really sure.

I know that I have nothing to worry about this year, yet I can feel anxiety trying to get in on the action. This year, my kids and their partners are collaborating on dinner, and we will sit down to eat at my son’s house – next year at my daughter’s. And just like that (well over the last few years), the Thanksgiving feast evolved.

This year, I will fight the “what ifs” and that pesky anxiety. The goal is to be present and enjoy each small thing. I am looking forward to the smell of turkey, the laughter of my grandchildren, and the chance for all ten of us to share a meal. Happy Thanksgiving!