I'll Wear Purple...

Most of us have heard the “When I Am Old” poem – or at least snippets of it – and understand it to be an anthem for breaking out of routine expectations and having fun. Entire groups of Red Hat Societies have formed to celebrate the idea. I think there's more to it than that.

I see it as an acknowledgment of our own true self. So many of us spend our lives toeing the line, doing what we think is expected of us or is “proper”. We're supposed to be a civilized society, so there should be rules about the way we behave, speak, carry ourselves, etc. While I've always considered myself to be a free-thinking, no boundaries kind of girl, I recognize that I've also been really good at blending in with my surroundings and doing what's expected of me.

That could be perceived as boring or conforming to avoid conflict. I don't think that's the case for me. I've always thought that keeping a low profile allowed me to just quietly be myself and do what I want without drawing attention that would spur questions. I've always been comfortable with that approach.  I'm realizing lately that maybe I've been holding myself back and missing out on some of the fun!

Recently, I was at a gathering , sitting with a group of mothers and grandmothers while our kids were having fun. I told them about an experience a few days prior. My girls and I were in a parking lot and I noticed a large crowd. They were gathered for a movie premier at the Indian theater. I dragged my kids over and crashed the party. Obviously, I didn't understand the language of the chants being shouted but I certainly know how to recognize a joyful celebration, so I joined in with cheers. When fireworks went off, I shot my fist in the air and yelled “Whooo!” with the crowd. This prompted my 11 year old to roll her eyes and scold me with a “Mooooom!” I didn't care. It was fun.

After telling that story, sitting with the ladies, watching kids have fun being kids, I jumped up to do a goofy dance with them. I realized in that moment that I don't need a Red Hat or a Purple Boa, because there are definitely some things coming unleashed on their own.

The simple act of shouting “Whooo!” in a group of strangers was sort of an unveiling. My mature self is kicking off her leash and having fun and if my kids are embarrassed by it, that's just a bonus. As I'm typing this, I'm reminded of one of the most important lessons my mother ever taught me: Sometimes, it's better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. Right on, Mom!

I don't think I'll be giving up the mini-van for a Harley and I doubt I'll be skinny-dipping in the park fountain. Frankly, I've always been pretty candid, so anyone who has known me for awhile may not even notice, but I give myself permission to yell “Whooo!” on a whim and to bust out a boisterous laugh whenever I want. If I ever learn how, I might do the Funky Chicken in a crowded room.

I like purple. I wear it often. But when I am Old(er), I will just do and say whatever the heck I want and make no apologies. I may even crash your party. I'll beg forgiveness later.

From Boxes To Shelves...

Psychologists talk about “compartmentalizing” emotions or thoughts as a way of dealing with people or activities in their lives.

I've always been pretty good at that. It's not about denial. It's more about putting things away so there's defined space for everything – and everyone – in my life. I like things – and people – where they belong so people and situations have their own boxes.

Probably, that was always easy when I was young because I didn't stay in one place very long. The older and more settled, I get, I find my boxes have opened and spilled all over the place. My people and situations are interacting! It's a little unsettling when I find that a person I've known for years – who has long had their own box – has moved into the box of someone else from a different time and place in my life!

I think I'm starting to understand that I never actually had boxes. I probably have shelves. While there are definitely clear and separate places for every person and every experience in my life, perhaps it's totally okay – maybe even beneficial – to allow those spaces to interact with one another. They've probably been interacting all along and I just haven't been paying attention.

With many things in my life, I rely on the library to be my reference point. So maybe instead of seeing all of these people and experiences in boxes, they need to be on shelves – catalogued, referenced, and sorted by subject or title. Wouldn't that make it easier to face new questions or challenges as they arrive? So that's going to be my approach moving forward with each new situation. I'll have a person, a place, or an experience to give me the data I need to handle something similar.

That's the idea, anyway. If I'm being honest with myself, I'll likely reach for the favorite stories and characters, leave them sitting on the table in the middle of the room, and forget to look on the shelves I've compiled and organized. But at least I'll have a better idea about where to look.

And really, won't my life be better, easier – or at the very least, more entertaining – to allow all of the parts of me to work (and play) together? I often tell my kids that I know a little about a lot of things. I also know a lot of people who know a little about a lot of other things. Together, we can rule the world! At the very least, we can make a fun party.