In this category you can find all the blogs that focus on mind/body matters, separately or intertwined. As people age, this aspect of life can be the most worrisome or worse. In these blogs, “fullness” suggests otherwise.
The idea of frail can be a legitimate adjective that follows us older folks around, tugging at our sleeves and asking for our attention. But once we grant that thought its place in our self-concepts, it can crawl into our brains like attitudinal kudzu—climbing/winding/vining its way into nooks and crannies where other ideas and emotions would like to prosper. Frail can be both an accurate measureMORE...
It’s taken me awhile to admit that I’m an older gentleman. (I’ve always been an odd guy, but older was a bit harder.) “Frail elder” will be similar: There might not be a definitive moment when I’ll say to myself, “Okay, NOW I’m a frail person.” Frailty—whatever it is—is probably sneaking up on me. Parts of my anatomy don’t work as well. I come away from medical tests and doctor visits withMORE...
One of the other older guys in my weekly tai chi class always answers my “How are you?” greeting with “Living the dream…!” There’s some whimsy in his response, and maybe some truth, too. As it turns out, though, “Living the dream” may also be more difficult than just describing a good life. In the opening episode of the PBS documentary series, “A Brief History of the Future”, UCLA socialMORE...
Increasing portions of the world’s population are today living in ash-infused rubble. Forest fires, wars and natural calamities have consumed their homes, their possessions, their occupations and their health. The ashes remind them how futile life may be—how long it will be for the debris to be removed and hopeful living to re-emerge. “Living in the ashes” might describe how people anywhere—butMORE...
(The Amateur Brain Scientist part of me has landed on this interesting thought: What if some of our dreaded short-term memory loss could be counteracted by some changes in our lifestyle habits or contexts? Today some noodling in that direction….) Some of us might be quietly fretting about the possibility that our short-term memory seems to be slipping. Small stuff at first—misplacingMORE...
Lately, my times of prayer seem to be interwoven with memories of time-and-place experiences in life. These reveries include entire clusters of beloved people. (For example, when I remember our San Leandro, California years, my mind gathers together Rich and Gretchen, Liz and Larry, Mary and Jim, Barry, Ralph, Sandy, Linda, Wendy, Aunt Mona, Chris and our kids, and my 3rd-4th graders—and theMORE...
Lately I’ve felt nudged towards thoughts and attitudes that in other times I would have called unhinged. Chaotic international and domestic events highlight supposed leaders whose pronouncements seem deranged. (For example, competing national leaders trumpet the supposed benefits of oppression and/or aggression. Incoherently angry people gather followers and legitimacy. Self-destructiveMORE...
(While knee-deep in preparation for All Soles Day observances, I came upon this idea that was tiptoeing around inside my neuronal interweavings.) Lately I’ve noticed that I’m not getting the amount of sympathy that I think I deserve. To correct this deficit, I want to share with you the results of a recent X-ray of my left foot, revealing the following pathos-worthy conditions. Mild degenerationMORE...
In grade school, when we were learning the format for writing personal letters, some of us—probably the boys—wondered why we always started these letters with “Dear.” So we asked—probably with some pre-teen embarrassment—and the teacher responded with something about “writing conventions that don’t necessarily mean what they say.” Relieved of the possibility of inadvertently expressing ourMORE...
(This entry started out as a rant—a collection of raging observations about truth-under-attack and the triumph of liars. After considering the various rabbit trails of angry content, I realized that I was jousting with windmills and heading towards foolishness. So instead, I present to you a simpler set of observations about seeking truth.) Truth’s reassuring reach enters into every aspect of theMORE...
BOB SITZE has filled the many years of his lifework in diverse settings around the United States. His calling has included careers as a teacher/principal, church musician, writer/author, denominational executive staff member and meat worker. Bob lives in Wheaton, IL.