New Life at 82?

At age 82 I find myself going on dates–after not being in such a situation for five or more years. Sure, I have nonromantic friendships with several men and enjoy those friendships. I felt flattered when recently I was invited on what I could only call "dates" by two men I have met (or re-encountered) recently. I feel a bit embarrassed by the physical limitations I've acquired since my previous dating opportunities. It's difficult to know what my expectations realistically should be in these now-unfamiliar occasions. I enjoy the companionship but am not sure whether I'm interested in an intimate relationship if a friendship seems to be going in that direction. Should I insist on going "dutch" if my companion expects to pay?

Most of my male friends either are gay or are clearly uninterested in a romantic relationship–or at least not with me. I enjoy and value these friendships and feel very comfortable with them. One of my current "beaux" (what a quaint term!) is someone I have known casually over the years because of community activities, but at that time both of us were married. We encountered each other in a workshop a few months ago, renewed our acquaintance and have had a few casual dates since. We seem to share some common values and interests, but I suspect he may be at least ten years younger than I am--if that matters. He is the only person I have dated since my college years who was not interested in participating in a faith community.

The other man who has suddenly come into my life is a Unitarian Universalist. He and I share some interests and he has a nice sense of humor. He appears to be close in age to me. Our friendship is still very young. I don't know yet what kind of a driver he is. He drives a Prius, though, so I agree with his philosophy on energy while being aware that his income must be greater than mine. I'm looking forward to knowing him better.*

Who would have thunk that I'd be in this situation? What fun! I must keep my expectations and boundaries clear and frame my communications with care. 12/16/08

*12/17/08 addendum: I spent a very pleasant afternoon, beginning with lunch (which he paid for). with my Prius-driving friend. He's a good driver and a good conversationalist. I hope to get together with him again. Although I met him at a church social event, he is not formally affiliated with the church. He has attended UU fellowships elsewhere but appears to have stopped short of actual membership there, too. He finds Unitarian Universalists to be like minded and seems to follow UU principles. He does not feel a need for ritual, so is more likely to go to discussion groups than to a worship service. I also discovered that he is a longtime Mac user and had participated in user groups elsewhere, so that is another commonality. He is fairly recently widowed, whereas my other new dating friend is divorced, although I don't know how long ago and how well he has recovered from what appears to be a trauma. Stay tuned...

Le plus ça change...

The entrance to the public toilets
offers "baby changing station."
A doorway through the looking glass
to follow Alice down the rabbit hole?

In this existential quest
what is baby changing into, when and how;
how soon is change apparent?

We can't get no satisfaction;
do our babies pay the price?

Identity: Part I

Diving deep into the soul
to find the selves enshrined within,
a seeker may emerge triumphant
marking progress on that journey,
by embracing name new-chosen;
birthname now devoid of meaning.

Covenant Circle

We open our hearts
and stretch out our souls
to embrace one another,
to create a bond
that we share with no others.

Trust is our foundation:
our hopes, our aspirations,
sorrows, joys or disappointments
viewed through a lens
that unifies the search.

Each monthly gathering
puts focus on dilemmas of the spirit:
We all are seekers on
a path of truth and light.

Goodbye, Suzy

It's been 12 years-plus now

since first I glimpsed sweet Suzy (tri-color Chihuahua)

at the County Animal Control Center.

Recently a mother, her tiny size a contrast

to her large and shaggy cagemate,

my heart was touched.

George had sometimes mused,

"How nice to have a little short-haired dog!"

Methought, "They don't get much littler or much shorter-haired

than this trembling lone Chihuahua."

A phone call, then another visit

and she was ours.

A mere year-and-a-half old,

she nonethless was shy, subdued --

perhaps mistreated in a former home?

We'd never know.

She formed a special bond with George:

close by -- on lap, in bed, on wand'rings 'round the yard.

She so entranced us that we thought,

"Why not another tiny friend of her own kind?"

Soon one appeared, a pup just five months old,

and they became fast friends

Except when he forgot which dog came first.

(She'd quick rebuke him, and he fell in line.)

When George died, Suzy seemed to miss him,

but then seemed to adjust.

But recently her quiet mien

became a loss of zest for life.

Her doggy manners lapsed, her energy declined,

she seemed to limp and save her steps;

her tail lost its wag.

The vet looked sober. suggesting poor prognosis;

the laboratory confirmed the worst:

Sweet Sue was dying.

Each day brings more discomfort.

her independence lessens.

This little dog and I tomorrow

will undertake a journey.

Her life will end just where our hearts first touched:

at County Animal Control.

I know I'll miss her

(and perhaps her longtime dog friend too will mourn),

but maybe she'll be reunited

with her "father," George.

Her tail once more a-wag, her stance once more alert,

and buoyant step restored.

Goodbye, sweet Suzy, first dog of my life:

my introduction to a joy and challenge

unlike another.

Good bye, rest well, sweet Suzy.

(12/18/95, from personal archives)

Blogging could be hazardous to your health

The frantic pace of bloggery

may be a killer if pursued for profit

(as reported in the daily rag).

The worldwide 24 hour appetite

of Internet providers of on-the-minuteness scoops

to dole out to surfers and subscribers

eager for their fix of gossip.

tech updates, politics and crises

(real or imagined -- who cares so long as it sells?)

Boundaries of home- and worklife are blurred,

sometimes nonexistent; the keyboard-cum-treadmill

sets a relentless pace, barely ahead of

whoever nips at your heels.

How many flies alight on your barely sweet

(or savory) nibbles of bait? How long and to what end?

Are you mining the information pits deep enough and

soon enough and finding gold more often than dross?

What does it take of heart, endurance, daring.

skill and imagination to be the first with the best

and often enough to keep above the fray:

recalling words of Rudyard Kipling, 

"If you can keep your head when

all about you are losing theirs..."