What’s Still Possible?
It’s 1952. I’m in the middle.
“Where have I been?” you asked.
Okay, so maybe you’re not asking, but Jerry Hogan who took me to the Junior Prom did ask. “Are you okay?” appeared on Messenger four weeks ago.
Due to my disappearance from social media and no blog posts for 12 months, there have been other inquiries lately about my geographic location (Where are you?), my marriage (What’s going on with you and Herb?) and my well-being (How are you?).
There have also been questions about the book. “How’s the book?” messages Carl Kooyoomjian who is featured in Chapter 9. So maybe he’s impatient to see his name in print? He’s not. He’s building a new house, cycling big-mile trips and very into a gaggle of beautiful grandkids. He could care less about his name in print.
Like many others, he was just checking in on me. This is a superb measure of kindness for a writer climbing up toward the edge of a deep writer’s hole. Warms my heart. Thank you all.
The 60-Something Crisis: How to Live an Extraordinary Life in Retirement (Rowman & Littlefield, July 19, 2022) is an important project and one that demanded a long timeframe of intense focus. While getting a book published in one’s 70s feels good, what feels even better is to make certain life doesn’t pass by without exploring what other things are possible.
Whatever you think you were meant to do, you can do other things. Renewing a past pursuit perhaps? Like tap dancing?
You are kidding me.
Stop, Hop, Step, Flap, Step – The Five Moves of the Time Step
After I pushed open the door of Spell’s Dancewear in Nashville last September, I immediately caught the eye of the middle-aged salesperson behind the counter doing paperwork. “I’m here to buy tap shoes,” I said.
“For you?”
The wary tone to her inquiry was something I understood. On the drive over, I asked myself more than once why I signed up for tap dancing lessons at the age of 76.
Could it be because - “I had fond memories of being a seven-year-old applying my mother’s Revlon iconic Fire & Ice lipstick for a dance recital?” “or “I was near the end of the book manuscript and saw blank spaces in my calendar?” or “Thoughts of doing the recommended Cha Cha with a partner on the Pickleball court to keep the ball moving sounded -well you know- a little more than I wanted to take on at the moment.”
Mostly I signed up for to tap lessons because I figured I could still do it. Just maybe my feet could remember multiple combinations and a quick spin might not invoke lightheadedness to the point I would fall down. We’ll get to this.
The truth is that just because something is still possible it may also mean we’ll be last in class or not as good as we used to be in the endeavor. Yet here was an opportunity ten minutes from my house in a gorgeous facility to tap dance again and my inner Rockette whispered, “now or never.”
I walked out with my tap shoes from Spelman’s and drove to Lululemon for black cropped high-rise pants.
Game on.
Stairway to the Stars
If you think I entered my first lesson without a bundle doubts wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into you would be wrong. I hoped this adult class would lure other seniors. Nope. My four tap mates are in their 40’s, wear sleeveless tops and could balance a plate on their heads doing the Grapevine.
I deal with things they do not. My balance is crazy gone. Shuffling on one foot while balancing on the other is hard for me. A fast turn-around move and you got it - I’m dizzy. Ask me to remember the four steps we just added to the routine the next day and I’ll laugh. (I’m the only one who videotapes the new steps.)
Still, I’ve been surprised at what I can do and just as important feeling the pleasure of a new challenge. I’m not the best. But I’m often not the last one to nail a new step either. The joy to learn, laugh with other people, find the right beat in the music, raise my arms in a whoop when I finally get a step –these sensations are triumphant.
Am I a star yet? I was a star in that chicken costume. I was a star with my partner, little blonde Linda. (We won a television talent show). But today, I am not a star. I am simply finding what is still possible as I grow older, adding it to my life and expanding my world.
On April 8th and 9th at the St. Cecilia Fine Arts Center I’ll be on stage for a dance recital on two nights doing a tap routine to the pop song, “Beggin,” by Madcon.
Put your loving hand out baby Cause I’m beggin.
This now popular song – a little funk, soul and hip hop - originated in 1967 and the choreography is far-removed from swing time footwork of Fred Astaire. More attitude, less velvety.
And just to let you know. Revlon’s Fire and Ice lipstick launched in 1952 is still available from Amazon for $4.83. My order arrives Thursday.
The Now and New Invitation to Love Life Again
Poet and philosopher David Whyte’s latest collection of poems titled, “Still Possible,” is about the invisible passage of time – “the deep, private current that wends through our lives as a steadfast companion, sculpting our interior worlds as inexorably and exquisitely as its visible manifestations.”
Whyte can sometimes make things sound better than they are. I don’t feel great about that passage of time every day.
Life as you grow older has an ample sampling of things and people that disappear. Life can get a little dicey what with a Pandemic, unexpected health crisis, a hurricane, a wildfire, a wobbly identity or who knows what. Loneliness, boredom, infirmity, and frustration are textbook parts of aging.
It’s natural to give up things as we age. Some things are just not possible - ever. I’ll never live in Paris, hike in Mongolia, be fluent in Spanish, aspire to become tidy, strut in 3-inch heels, raise another child or sail an ocean.
While it’s easy to spotlight what we cannot do, it’s also dangerous. We often allow ourselves to opt out of engaging in all that is still possible.
But life is losing, finding and often re-finding. Some way, somehow, we all could seek to find more in our lives in the face of fleeting time as we stay the course.
Create a spaciousness in life to undertake just one extra dormant desire and you’re likely to make new friends, make life more interesting and find the best of you.
What’s still possible for you? Take a whack at it. Climb a little higher. You have nothing to lose.
Thank you for taking your time to read and support my work. Special thanks to all of you who continue to forward posts. I appreciate that! I invite you to join the conversation. Love to hear what you are thinking. - Barbara
All Photos by B.Pagano
