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Aging Grays-fully

I've been thinking about no longer dying my hair, which I've been doing since my early 30s. I'm almost 44, and because of genetics and hair dye I'm often assumed to be younger. I realize in the grand scheme I'm still fairly young, but if I stop coloring my hair, I definitely won't look as young. In fact, I might actually look middle-aged. Gasp!

I remember clearly that when those first grays began coming in, quite conspicuously in my part, I'd pluck them. It wasn't long before I considered that the plucking might be exacerbating the issue, but I couldn't just let them go, and so naturally (ha!) I turned to hair dye. I remember thinking that I was too young to have gray hair…in retrospect, my mind postulates, "Said who?"

I don't know whether other cultures are as fixated as we Westerners are on youthfulness, which we seem to equate with goodness. On the contrary, we consider aging to literally be bad. In reality of course aging is neith…
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All the Lonely People (Myself Included)

I'm a wife, a mom, a yoga teacher and a volunteer, who has lived in the same city for 21 years and in the same state my entire life, save one summer during college. I know a lot of people, yet I often feel lonely.

I feel lonely despite having made many mama friends and acquaintances through my kids' school communities over the years.

I feel lonely despite teaching 7 different yoga classes in 4 different locations every week.

I feel lonely despite volunteering once a week at an adult day center full of smiling grand-folks.

I feel lonely despite having moved two years ago to a new neighborhood surrounded by many warm, welcoming neighbors, who actually get together throughout the year.

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I feel lonely despite having married my childhood sweetheart, who is a true partner in our family life.

I feel lonely despite having two children I adore, who at 10 and 9 still want their mama a lot.

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Oh, how I needed this sign.

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Silver Locks & Linings and Wisdom of Gold

After teaching yoga at one of the "active adult" centers in Raleigh this week, I lamented to a student on the way out that it looked like rain again. I'd seen her looking at the sky, and upon noticing it myself, my mind had instantly gone to a glass-half-empty mentality. Without hesitating, she replied, "I have really enjoyed these clouds--they've been absolutely beautiful." I took this photo right afterward.

Aha-moments are for the taking all around us, and I've come to know our elders are some of our most gifted messengers.

Thank you, Nancy.

Mindfulness is a Balm

Sometimes there isn’t an easy answer, and sometimes there isn’t an answer at all.

This registered with me after a recent conflict with a loved one. We were both right and wrong—no, actually, we were somewhere beyond that binary where the vast majority of human experience lies. The more I’d mentally dug into my position, the worse I’d felt. It was only when I took the time and made the space to sit with my anger and sadness and discomfort that the storm in my mind died down.

As I felt the feelings, rather than tunneling down that familiar thinking hole, the bitter tension around my heart melted away, and my mind began to clear. What remained was love. There was also sadness, but mostly there was love, and compassion, and freedom, and ease.

Sometimes there are no answers, at least that can be conjured in the mind. But there’s always love.