Nadine Feldman, Author

celebrating strong female characters and whatever else strikes my fancy

empty nest

Goosebump Moments – Or, “Holy Sh#t!”

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All this meditating, resting, and breathing has gotten me to thinking about things…and this, in short, is why we often don’t slow down! When we get quiet, we start telling ourselves the pesky truth, and sometimes that means making changes. Big changes.

Recently, as I think I mentioned, hubby and I started talking about where we might want to live. I’ve lived in Houston for 30 years, and he’s been here even longer, so these thoughts cause us to sit up straight and perk up our ears. Sometimes he backpedals — “Maybe we could just leave Houston during the summer” — but then we realize that a) summer is lasting longer and longer here, and b) the ties that held us here are gone. Joe and Sarah, my stepkids, don’t live here anymore. Henry’s folks are gone. He still has a sister here, but we don’t see her that often, either. Plus, we do have the freedom to travel and visit.

“Why would you want to stay?” I ask. It’s a fair question. The answer could be, “We like the house and the neighborhood. We have our regular restaurants that we enjoy. Rice University is nearby, and they have a lot of fun things to do.” The real answer, though, is “inertia.” That doesn’t sound like a good reason to me!

Problem is, life is unpredictable. Why spend it in a place that no longer works? Sure, we have both loved Houston, but more and more we gravitate toward mountains. And Henry likes the water, though I can take it or leave it. We have traveled enough to discover that we don’t want to live anymore in a flat terrain where an evening stroll to the wine bar makes us sweaty and stinky.

We have scheduled a trip to Washington State in December. First, it’s a trip to celebrate my birthday. Second, we want to see the area in a less-attractive time to see if we would still like it. It will be colder, rainier, and darker. We picked Port Townsend because the town seems to fill the bill for what we’re looking for: the right terrain, an emphasis on local and organic food, and a plethora of artists and writers to hang out with.

Since we’re “interviewing” Port Townsend, I want to meet as many people as possible. It’s a small town, so it’s important to find people that we wouldn’t mind hanging around. I Googled the local yoga studios to see if anything was going on. Turns out that one of my favorite yoga teachers, Angela Farmer, is doing a workshop the weekend of my birthday. She runs many of her trainings in Greece, but is visiting little ol’ Port Townsend on the first weekend that I’ll be there.

Here I am, on the cusp of menopause, on the eve of a new year of my life, and in the process of making a big decision, now with the opportunity to work with someone who has a way of pulling the deepest truths out of her students. And what better way to get to know some of the locals than to spend time in such an intimate environment?

It was a goosebump moment. You know them, right? I used to always affirm that “I am always in the right place at the right time, successfully engaged in the right activity.” But in a goosebump moment, I really BELIEVE it.

Goosebump moments can remind us that maybe something else is at work in our lives besides our mundane, mental existence. I am giddy. I am scared. Like many women, I have feared my own power for too long, so I hesitate. I remind myself of all the logical reasons not to do the workshop. Then, I stop, I breathe — and I write the check. I want to honor all the goosebump moments of my life and to jump in full-out. Maybe all that pesky stillness is not only opening me to change, but giving me the courage to go through with it.

Daring to Rest

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I’ve written a lot about rest this week. So far, I’ve stuck with my plan to take some rest time in the afternoons. Yesterday I was reminded of kindergarten, with my little red mat, and the milk and cookies that came after quiet time. I never slept — I wasn’t a napper, even then — but I remember fondly curling up on that mat. Maybe it’s why I’ve come to love my yoga mat so much!

There’s a hidden danger in all this resting, however. Dare to rest, and I cannot be responsible for what might happen!

When we find ourselves in a quiet, peaceful space, allowing our minds to unclutter, something happens. We start to notice the thoughts and feelings rattling around inside, and hearing our inner truth. It’s not always pretty, and it can definitely be inconvenient!

Case in point: since we returned from Switzerland, we’re still in a restful mode. We’re working, but we’re unwilling to put pressure on ourselves to achieve. In the quiet of our return, a message has emerged loud and clear. Well, it’s more like a question. “If you like the mountains so much, why do you still live in Houston?”

Indeed. Why are we here?

For years, the answer was easy. I had work and friends. Henry was raising a family, and his parents were here as well. I even used to like the heat! Then his children grew up and left home, and his parents died. While all of this was going on, we were traveling more, and taking trekking poles with us wherever we went. Our travel decisions started to center on where we could hike. We fell in love with two places in particular: the Pacific Northwest and Switzerland.

Still, we didn’t stop to think about living elsewhere until we came home. Henry called me from a bike ride, complaining about the heat and the lack of places to bike in the city.  I, meantime, was doing my daily meditations and starting to rest. “Why not move?” the inner voice asked. “Why not live in the environment that you love the best?”

Why not? Because we humans love inertia and habit. Sometimes the prospect of change just looks like too darn much work. Still, there comes a time when the pain of change is less than the pain of staying the same, and I think we’re just about there.

We are taking the next step by planning a trip to explore an area in Washington State that meets the criteria we have set. I try not to think about the work involved, of selling our house, finding another, and moving all our stuff a few thousand miles. This is the problem with resting. When you start getting ideas, they involve a certain amount of work.

Resting stops our complacency. Resting asks questions. Resting holds a mirror up to us and suggests, gently, that we see things a little differently. It may not cause us to want to relocate, but it may show us something in life that wants to change. Resting reveals who we are under all that busy-ness. There, we may feel emotions we don’t want to feel — but we will also learn the truth of ourselves. We will find our yearnings, our hopes, our dreams. We find surprises. I didn’t know until age 51 that I had a passion, and a certain amount of skill, for gardening. Resting showed me the way and suggested that I give it a go.

Rest if you dare! Take a little time each day, even if it’s five minutes, and let yourself unplug from the world. What does your rest tell you?

Thursday Blog Recommendation Day: GypsyNester

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Last week when we were returning home from San Juan Island, I said to my husband, “Maybe we should just sell the house and be gypsies.” We love to travel and do so as much as possible. If it weren’t for my garden, which always brings me home, life on the road sounds like great fun.

Well, it would appear that David and Veronica have embraced this very idea! They have turned empty nesting into an art form, recognizing that life after kids can be fun. In the next couple of weeks we’ll discuss that more in the Wednesday feature posts, but the Gypsy Nester website shows how dynamic and interesting midlife can be, so it’s a great prelude to what’s coming here at A Woman’s Nest.

From travel narratives to reflections on midlife issues (such as, how do you define midlife?), David and Veronica have saved me a lot of time and energy by blogging about topics that I would have eventually gotten to. They even have a “Shop” page with plenty of fun items for those ready to celebrate life after kids.

Visit GypsyNester at: www.gypsynester.com. Enjoy!

 

Building a Happy Empty Nest

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My husband insists that as children near college age, something happens hormonally with both the kids and the parents. That “something” causes us to suffer less—and even celebrate—when they finally leave home. The closer the time came for his kids to head off to college, the giddier he became. We were ready and determined to create a Happy Empty Nest.

Having come into a home with twins in their senior year in high school, I was, admittedly, reluctant to let them go. I had always wanted kids, and I liked having them around. By the time they left, I had just gotten comfortable with my new role as stepmother after 45+ years of childless freedom. As my hubby threatened to break out the beer, I had a good cry.

Of course, back in the day when our generation first left home, we didn’t have cell phones, e-mails, or instant messenger programs. We had landlines (how quaint) and sent letters back and forth. Neither my husband nor I anticipated how little we would sense their absence. The empty nest has changed. Some days, they might as well be in the room, we talk with them so much!

Moms of the world who hate sending their children away from home may take comfort in this new accessibility. I have to ask, though, is this accessibility good? If we’re not always available and let a phone call go to voice mail, we have found that the children find other ways to solve their own problems. Isn’t that part of what we want?

Plus, I think that an essential part of building a happy empty nest means finding out who we are when we are not parents. Husbands and wives need to get reacquainted with each other, and most of us have set aside our own dreams, at least for a time, to handle the care and feeding of the young. What were those dreams, anyway? What a great time to explore—as long as we hang up the phone long enough to do so!

Of course, while we are getting comfortable with our new identities, the children tend to come home from time to time. At first, it’s the long summer and winter breaks, and a shorter spring break. These are awkward times; they have lived as adults, and suddenly, on visits home, they are subject to rules and demands that they don’t want. Some want to be treated like young children again, whiling their vacation away in front of the television while someone else prepares their meals.

The Happy Female Empty Nester, in order to stay happy, will need to insist on more participation. After all, we are starting to live our dreams, so we don’t feel like waiting on young adults hand and foot anymore.

Then someone gets a summer job that requires time away from home. Maybe one of the children wants to go off with friends on spring break. They graduate from college and, hopefully, get jobs.

This is where my husband and I are in the process. Both kids have graduated from college. One is working, while the other is taking an additional year of specialized education. It’s exciting to watch them take on their own lives, as well as to have more time to focus on ours. We’re turning the upstairs into guestrooms for families that may expand at some point. Oh, wait, that means possible grandchildren that Grandma and Grandpa will babysit. Hmm, maybe the empty nest isn’t empty for long after all.

Good Morning, Monday!

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We have returned from a lovely vacation in Washington state, where we visited and hiked on Mt. Rainier, saw friends and family in Seattle, and then had a few quiet days on San Juan Island.

Seeds of Wisdom
Seeds of Wisdom by Terrea L. Bennett

While there, I ran across this lovely print by Terrea L. Bennett. Actually, I bought four pieces of her work because it really spoke to me, but this one, called Seeds of Wisdom, captures the spirit of what I want for this blog. Here is a woman who ages with joy and whimsy intact, and who shares her wisdom with generosity, the way a dandelion scatters its seeds. The dandelion, much like women at midlife and beyond, is often unappreciated but loaded with extraordinary gifts, shared freely if we only take the time to receive them.

Now that we’re back, I’m eager to embrace the week on this blog. I’ll be reviewing Ana Forrest’s Fierce Medicine, and we’ll delve more deeply into the topic of the empty nest. And, since my editor was busy while I was gone, I’ll be revising Change of Plans in hopes it will be ready as an e-book novel for the holiday gift-buying season!

Just for fun, here’s a view outside of our bed & breakfast on San Juan Island. Have a great week!

Deer
View Outside our Bed & Breakfast on San Juan Island

 

Getting Kids to College: The World Tour

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For many women, midlife signals the end of 24/7 mothering as children leave the nest. This month, our Wednesday feature blogs will focus on letting go and preparing for the next stage of our lives…along with the identity changes that come with it.

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Sending a child off to college can awaken fear and dread in the hearts of moms everywhere. In our case, though, we had little time to think about it! My husband has twins, a boy and a girl, who enrolled at two different universities, one in Texas and the other in New York.

As an aside, people always assume that twins would want to go to the same school, but ours are polar opposites in personality, and they share little in common other than their mother’s womb. Sarah planned to study art at Parson’s School of Design, and Joe’s interests run toward emergency management.

I had already learned lessons about raising twins: first, you can’t learn from your mistakes in parenting, so each twin gets the benefits and curses of our parental learning curve. Mine in particular was steep, as I met them in their senior year of high school, with no prior parenting experience. I think we all did remarkably well, considering…but that’s another story for another day.

We had already been through college applications, prom, and graduation, but entering a university added its own challenge. They both needed to show up at school at the same time! This triggered an elaborate plan I now call The World Tour so that we could give them both a proper send-off.

Henry flew to New York with Sarah while Joe and I caravanned on a drive from Houston to Arlington, Texas. Joe checked in to his dorm, helped by the upperclassmen of UT-Arlington who volunteered to help new students get settled, so my job was more symbolic, one of “being there.”

Once Joe was settled in, I flew from DFW airport to New York, where Henry picked me up. He had helped Sarah move in to her dorm, and we attended a Parents’ Weekend program at Parson’s, where we learned, primarily, that universities don’t talk to the parents due to privacy laws. We had the odd sensation of getting nudged out of their lives—a necessary but not always easy adjustment.

On Sunday, Henry and I flew to DFW, where we had lunch with Joe, allowing Henry to give his son the official send-off. Then we drove back to Houston. On the way, we learned that Henry’s mom was in the hospital, and we started to get a taste of life in the Sandwich Generation…again, another story for another day.

Since that time, Joe’s and Sarah’s schedules have not converged in the same way again.  In the years that followed, they had slightly different timetables for moving in and moving out. Thank God they graduated at different times! We are now getting used to their status as young adults, striking out on their own, and The World Tour has gone from stressful event to part of the family lore.