Welcome to my blog!
“60 Up!” is about hoisting myself out of old patterns, placing my feet firmly in the stirrups without hesitation and saddling up for non-stop adventures!
Wanna join me? Let’s ride, baby!
Fast approaching my sixtieth year in this world, I promised myself to fearlessly create by seeking out new collaborations, completing my fourth book and dusting off those vocal chords that are aching to sing again. It has been forty years of being a drama practitioner and professional actor. Time to put those big girl panties on and ride tall, no excuses!
My mother rode bareback. I have a distinctive memory of her lifting herself onto my uncle’s horse as she held onto the bridle. One click from her mouth and they were off through the wheat fields, full gallop. My uncle and I watched her. He shook his head in disbelief and said, “Look at her go!” She called over her shoulder promising she’d be back soon but she was gone for hours. When she returned you couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. Saddle sores came later that night. I could hear her wince and laugh at the same time. It was worth it!
When I need a push forward, I call on her for help and a flood of memories come through to remind me that I don’t come from a family of quitters. That same woman taught herself how to crochet at seventy-five just because, learned how to run a cash register in her fifties and re-organized a whole card company warehouse. Her boss cried when she left. He told her she was the best employee he ever had. Her tumultuous childhood was filled with horrible ordeals that sent her packing by the time she was sixteen. Some stories I can’t tell. “Never look back,” Mom told me years later. “You gotta keep moving.” And she did, right across the country! My mom made bombs back east. I think it suited her personality! Even as two debilitating kinds of arthritis bent her back and sent writhing pain through her arms and legs, she persevered walking around the block daily. She knew that moving was everything. My last memory of her before she went into the hospital for the last time was baking bread propped up with her walker. “Well, your father’s got to eat.” When she passed, both freezers were full!
So what keeps us from moving forward? We’re living in challenging times. Haven’t we always? I might need a saddle to keep my endurance up but I know if I place my mother’s spirit in my heart I can do anything!