For the love of Louie, please make it STOP!

“Win or lose, we go shopping after the election.” Imelda Marcos

Really, I am not trying to be arrogant here, but I believe that I speak for people across the globe when I say folks world-wide can’t wait for the polls to close here in the United States on Election Day.

Not that I think we are pro-actively wishing our lives away. Not at all. But whether you are a conservative or a liberal; a Democrat or Republican; a Coke or Pepsi drinker; a wine sipper or beer guzzler; a Target or Wal-Mart shopper; a vegan or carnivore…or what ever else separates us from one another, I believe we can all agree on this:

We can’t wait for Election Day 2012 to be over.

Have you ever felt so mentally weary?

Right now, I am thinking that giving birth without an epidural is less painful than this election. A root canal? Bring it on. We can safely outlaw waterboarding – just tie the bad guys up and force them to watch the past few months of election coverage. They’ll cry like babies and sing like canaries.

The madness is completely inescapable! My brain hurts from the barrage of negativity. Not one side can claim innocence on the continuous beating of this election drum. The droning is everywhere you turn: pundits on the local news, national news, billboards, yard signs, radio, TV. My home is no longer a refuge as the land-line and cell phones continue to ring off their proverbial hooks. My email inbox is jam-packed with junk, just like my mailbox. How many poor trees have died for this election?

If all the money that has been spent on this year’s election – both on the national and local levels – would have gone toward the bazillion dollar National Debt, we may have been able to pay that off AND go on a wickedly wild shopping spree.

For the first time in my life, I want to poke out my own eyes and stick large wads of bubble gum in my ears just to keep the election noise out.

And social media? Wow is all I can say. The rudeness factor is off the chart! How many friendships, work relationships and arguments at the family dinner have been caused by the mean-spiritedness found on Facebook, Twitter and the like. Folks, it is okay to have differing opinions – really, it is!

Campaign Finance Reform… yeah, that is laughable. It didn’t go far enough and it certainly isn’t enforced. (Gee, was it because it was written by those who abuse it? I digress…). If I was Queen of the World, my idea of reform would be that politicians couldn’t spend a dime to get elected or re-elected. (I know, I know, some of you whose livelihoods are dependent on advertising revenue and printing just cringed and gasped!) So maybe we can set a very low, and I mean very low, spending allowance on running campaigns. And once it is gone, it is gone. Oh by the way, the window for campaigning would be shortened, too.

Think of the creativity this would inspire! Talk show hosts and news anchors would have to find something else to talk about – what a concept! And how refreshing!

Closing my eyes, I think of how uncluttered our lives would be. Our brains wouldn’t be so taxed and we wouldn’t be so anxious. We could retain useful information. We wouldn’t have an ad created each time a candidate made a small mistake or when they sneezed the wrong way.

The bad moods would be elevated. Stress would be alleviated.

Why, we’d actually be able to think! Before we voted!

What a concept.

Looking forward to Wednesday…how about you?

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb

Bruised bumpers and the Blues

“There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.”  – Sophia Loren

A few events over the past week brought me to this “A-ha!” moment: With age comes wisdom.

Heading to lunch with my husband, I was busy reading email on my phone when a huge thud jarred me: figuratively and literally. Some debris, either from the car in front of us – or kicked up by said car – walloped our front bumper. Talk about being shaken.

It was then I realized that my calmness, as well as my husband’s, was a sign of the times. In our younger days, we would’ve been madder than a wet hen at the young driver. She was completely oblivious to the fact that either she hit something or lost a large part of her car. With her tiny dog in her lap, I noticed the dents and dings in her car. She was completely unphased, and we couldn’t get her attention – as hard as we tried – to let her know what happened.

I didn’t even think to yell or scream at her. Maybe I envisioned one of my own children, having car trouble that could cause a major incident, and hoping that an encounter with another driver would be educational and not dangerous. Even when we reached our destination and looked at the damage, we were both surprisingly calm. Back in the day, not only would we rant and rave, we’d wring our hands and wonder how we’d pay for this mess, that was no fault of our own. Instead, we were thankful it didn’t break the light-housing or come flying through the windshield, which would surely caused injury to one or both of us.

With age comes wisdom.

Last weekend, we had the opportunity to attend an art gallery opening. The featured artist, whom we never met, is the husband of a colleague and friend of mine. She and I chat several times a week online and meet for coffee when we can. To be able to see her husband’s incredible art was a moment in our lives that we felt truly blessed to be able to share – alongside them and many others.

Exactly a week later, we had another great opportunity. Our neighbor and friend has been in the fight of her life. Diagnosed with a very aggressive, late-stage form of breast cancer, this woman has been a courageous inspiration for many. And just as it seemed that surgery, chemo and radiation had done their job, the bad news came. This fighter now had to face even more extensive surgery, just as she thought she had gotten back to her life. After six weeks of healing, doctor appointments and rest, this trooper was on back stage last night. And we were in awe. I firmly believe that The Blues were written for her to sing. Confident, smiling and blowing us away, she beat the crap out her cancer, and we were there to watch her comeback gig – completely in awe of her amazing talent. Who knew that this tiny little powerhouse could sing?!

But the most amazing thing happened after both of these events – and it was the humbled response of these artists. While we were so thankful for being invited to share in one of the most memorable moments of their lives, they thanked us for attending!

Hmmm…I think I am beginning to get it.

With age comes wisdom.

Back in the day, when I was a younger woman and desperately trying to seek fame and fortune through my writing, my focus was completely wrong. Please don’t take this as a judgement call, but in our twenties, many of us embraced our gifts as “ours.” We didn’t share – we had what I will call an arrogant talent. What will my talent get me? Some of us foolishly pitched that gift when it didn’t bring us the income or fame we thought it should.

Additionally, some of us shelved that talent when we started having families and felt pursuing a dream was a waste of time when there were kids to raise and an income to earn.

But as we got closer to or reached that half-century mark, the talent that was buried for various reasons began to sprout back to life. Maybe because we now have more time to nurture it, but maybe, I think, we have just come to realize how important that gift is.

We realize how fast time is ticking. I think, too, that we become confident in our place in life. Maybe we are a little less shy in sharing certain aspects of our lives.  Seeing that life has smacked all of us around by the time we hit this age makes us more humbled for sure, and most often, kinder to others. We have felt the sting of loss;  whether it was a job, a house, a loved one, or health. We embrace good news, and to celebrate accomplishments and talents of those around gives us time to pause from the mundane and experience joy.

We also change our attitudes when it comes to our talents. Instead of wondering what we get from it, we are more concerned about what others get from it. Our motives don’t revolve around making it big – they revolve around making a difference.

Will Doug’s gift of art inspire someone to experience the smell of paint and the feel of a brush meeting canvas? Will Annie’s gifted voice inspire someone to sing, take a dance class or play piano? Most likely, yes. But the biggest gift of all came from these artists sharing themselves – putting themselves out there for all to see. To bare their souls, not because they are awesome (which they are), but because of their choice to share their gifts with others.

God has graciously gifted everyone. Some have the gift of art, music, photography and such. Others have the gift of service; some have the gift of teaching. Still others can build and repair anything. Then there are others that can turn ordinary grocery items into the most extraordinary meals. Or grow beautiful flowers and delicious produce.

Our gifts are endless.

No one could have ever convinced me that going into decade number five would be one of the best times in my life. And, admittedly, there are days I long to be in my twenties again. (Sometimes it is because I long to see myself minus the little wrinkles forming around my eyes, or so I can wear short shorts because I’m not sporting these awesome varicose veins!) Seriously, though, revisiting my twenties is more because of my want to go back in time and smack that twenty-something me in the head, then bestow upon her all this wealth and knowledge and insight that I have today.

With age comes wisdom.

Here’s to settling down and not flying off the handle over the little things in life. Here’s to enjoying your older, wiser self. Here’s to sharing with others. And if you are burying that talent, unearth it today. I double dog-dare you to share that God-given gift of yours with others. In doing so, you will experience a joy that can’t be described.

© 2012 – Lynne Cobb