Self-improvement

‘79 Vintage

Jeanna GLeave a comment

I like to compare my aging process to that of a fine wine. And what makes wine better with age? Flavor development. Flavors that were previously hidden make themselves known. The sugars and the acids come together to form something new, something even better. The same wine could taste different each year. Like wine, all the good stuff and harsh stuff in my life have made me who I am today, and I know I’ve been better some years than others.

As a child, I’d say I was a light white wine, and my flavor profile would be a combination of honey, stone fruits, and minerality, with floral and herbaceous aromas. Overall light and zesty like a Chablis!

Late teens and twenties I mutated into a Mourvèdre; meaty and full-bodied, difficult to grow, herbaceous, dark and spicy, dry, complex, bitter and astringent, but easy to enjoy, nonetheless.

My thirties transformed me into a Madeira. I was fortified with the Spirit. I was bold, sweet, and stable. A Mama Bear.

Now, in my forties, with a beautiful daughter who is coming into her own, I can, once again, do the same. The great part about this age and stage, is that I know I can, unapologetically, be whatever kind of flavor profile I want to be. So I choose a blend of old and new. Accessible (easily appreciated) and polished (well made) with great legs. A complexity that keeps delivering intriguing flavors with notes of minerality, petichor and, of course, nuttiness.

Looking back on my life, I’ve come to accept that some of the acids and some of the sweetness were beyond my control, but I know that I can control my reactions to all of it. I’ve learned from it all and know that, at the very least, I can choose the conditions in which I am stored (or restored). And as another trip around the sun is coming full circle, I like to think about how this next year might taste. And how might I make the following years even better? It’s time to get uncorked and find out!

What is your flavor profile? Or what would you change it to be?

Auld Lang Syne

Jeanna G1 Comment

2020. A year described by many as the following: A dumpster fire, shit show, kerfuffle, nightmare come true, omnishambles, hullabaloo, all hell broken loose, catastrophe, three ring circus, royal fuck up, comedy of errors, bizarre, unrivaled, hellacious, apocalyptic, calamity, and a world turned upside down.

WHO reports that, as I write this, over 74 million people have contracted the virus worldwide. I read in the Wall Street Journal that a quarter of all US jobs were disrupted as a result of the pandemic. The election divided us. Racial inequities lead to murders and riots. Fires and storms wreaked havoc on and devastated our habitats. Our ways of living, communicating, and interacting have all been upended and recreated. It’s not surprising that there has been a collective yearning for 2020, and all that came with it, to end and to never be thought of again.

But should old times be forgot and never brought to mind?

Uncertainty, worry, and feeling useless all took their toll and caused depression, an old acquaintance of mine, to rear its ugly head. But as time has shown, I’m a survivor who does not relish in pity parties. I also can’t be idle, no matter how often I think I ought to give it a try.

And so I move. And I do. And I retrain my brain to think positively and make the best of a situation. And that takes work. And it’s because of that energy and movement that, despite the headlines, I am grateful for this year.

This year has gifted me with the time and permission to think. I mean really think. Like not just about what I have to do that day, but go deep into the recesses of my brain and think about all of the things I usually don’t have the time or energy to think about. And there is a lot of stuff in there! I wrote some of it down in this blog, which I’m happy to have had the time to create this year. Other thoughts I wrote in the journal I’ve been keeping for my daughter since I was pregnant. Others I shared with my friends, because they also had time to just sit and think and ponder life with me. And some I just shared with God, because at the end of the day it’s just me and Him, and I can’t fool either one of us. I wonder if having and spending all of this time thinking is how the Ancient Greek philosophers felt in their day-to-day lives.

For the last few years, life was moving so quickly, and I didn’t feel like I could keep up at times. This year, time seemed to slow. I had time to play with my daughter. Time to try new things. Time to reintroduce old things. Time to contemplate and assess where I had been, where I was, and where I was going. And it has all made me feel a lot better about life. What began as a joke between friends became the mantra “We Are Here,” which we now repeat at our get-togethers. There’s something to be said for living in the moment. And so in 2021, as life starts to speed up again, my resolution is to make it a point to slow down and make time for the important stuff that, for reasons I still need to think about, I had put on the back burner.

And so 2020, for auld lang syne my dear, I’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

There’s Power in a Posse

Jeanna G1 Comment

Growing up I had a field behind my house. I loved that field. My imagination and I used to run wild in that field. Then a company bought the field and turned it into a condominium complex. I was resentful until the day I was walking through and met Nicole. I slept at her house that very same night. (What moms would allow that these days?!) And then she and I ran wild through the complex together.

When she moved to town, I introduced Nicole to my other friends. They were my posse, and together we celebrated birthdays and achievements, attended parties and sleepovers, supported each other through heartbreaks and losses, and got into a lot of shenanigans.

I also had my teammates. Sports create a unique bond among teammates. Every day we were working as a unit. We would cheer together, cry together, push each other, and pick each other up. We were sweaty and gross together. We knew each other’s moods, moves, and motivations. We supported each other’s superstitions and routines. We lost as a team, and we triumphed as a team. And together, when we left the field, we got into a lot of shenanigans.

But then we all graduated and split up. Some of us kept in touch, but I moved out of state and didn’t, and still don’t, live close to any of them. I didn’t play sports in college. Instead, I worked. The group of people I hung out with were my coworkers. For those of you who have worked in restaurants, you know what kind of lifestyle that can create. And because I wanted to be in a group, I chose that lifestyle.

Fast forward twelve years, and I was still living that lifestyle. But I was very tired and wanted a change. My go-to solution to making a change had been to pack up and move. The problem was, everywhere I went, I was still in the same place. But I moved again anyway. Although this time, something finally did change: I had a baby. And, although some people don’t consider that a reason to change, I do. So I did. I wasn’t yet sure on the details, but I knew the change had to be profound. So, despite my desire to be in a group, I chose to be alone, because if my daughter’s new life was going to be one she deserved, I needed a new life, too. It was time to get to know myself again, and it was time to start listening for God again.

And so, for four years, I was alone. I worked and I was a mom. I had acquaintances, and I joined a church, but I didn’t have a group of friends like I did before going off to college. But I was fine, because raising my daughter and getting to know my new self were more important. There wasn’t much energy or time leftover anyway.

And then one day I received an invitation to a play date. I was hesitant, but I went. And just like that, I was welcomed into a group of moms. Honest moms who have no problem airing their grievances or admitting when they screw up. This group of women have become my team, my posse. We continue to get to know each other while learning more about ourselves. We build each other up and put each other in check. We laugh with and at each other. And we cry with and for each other.

I needed time alone. I needed to work on my new self and make sure that both my daughter and I got off on the right foot. But this group came along at just the right time. I missed having a tight-knit group of friends like I did as a child. I just didn’t realize how much I missed it until I was in it.

I hope my daughter doesn’t get lost along the way, but if she does, I hope she remembers that she is never really alone, because God is always with her. And while I hope my daughter learns the value of autonomy, I hope she also finds herself in a posse of friends who share mutual trust, admiration, and support. And together, I hope they run wild, and get into a lot of shenanigans.