Are You Trusting A Scorpion?

We've all had friends we trusted and loved. Friends we found out, only after they'd hurt us, weren't really our friends.

What I learned late in life was to pay attention to what people do. There's a saying, "Your actions are speaking so loud that I can't hear a word that you're saying." So despite the nice words your "friend" may be saying that lull you into believing they truly are your friend and deserve your loyalty, pay attention to what they do. There are just some people who are going to hurt you no matter how nice, generous, or wonderful you are to them.

Here's the story of the Scorpion and the Turtle.


A scorpion came up to a turtle who was standing at the side of a river and asked, "Will you let me ride on your back across the river?"

"You want to ride on my back?" the scorpion asked, incredulously. "If I let you ride on my back you'll sting me and I will die."

The scorpion, in soothing tones, responded, "Of course I won't do that. I just want to get across the river and if I sting you, we'll both die."

This sounded reasonable to the turtle, so he said, "That makes sense. Hop on."

When they reached the center of the river, the scorpion stung the turtle. "Why did you do that?" the turtle screamed, as they began to sink.

"I couldn't help myself," responded the scorpion. "it's my nature."

Life's Too Short to Always Be On A Diet

After having a delicious and calorie laden meal, the realization hit that life is simply too short to always be on a diet. What's the point of never eating anything you love just because it might add a pound? As I once said to my doctor, when chocolate was considered bad for you, "I think if I gave up chocolate, it would only seem like I lived longer." He said I was probably right.

I think I've been on some sort of food watch ever since I was a teenager and felt awkward and bigger than a hippopotamus. Everyone was dieting, even those I thought were skinny. They went to their doctors who injected them with something like sheep piss. I couldn't wait to see my doctor. "I want to lose weight," I told him, anticipating he'd immediately agree and give me the shot. Instead, he said, "Eat less." It was then I knew he was an idiot. "Eat less?!?!?!" Doesn't that guy know anything? Eat less. What kind of advice is that?"

Then I turned 19 and for some reason lost my craving for food. I ate less. I ate a lot less, and I went from a size 12 to size 7. I now weighed 122 pounds. Part of me knew I looked good, but the part that was always self-critical, could still find body parts to pick at. My thighs, for instance. I'd always thought that since I was 5'7-1/2", if I lost weight, I'd have long, thin thighs. Nope. I will never have long thin thighs because I don't have long legs. But I'll tell you, from the vantage point of decades later, I looked unbelievably great!

I had to get a lot older to finally understand about appreciating my body and knowing what to do with it. Of course, by then, I'd walk into a room and my butt would show up a bit later (kidding). I had to learn to wear thongs in order to avoid the dreaded pantyline. Don't you just hate when you can see where the underwear stop and a woman's floppy butt and thighs bulge? I do and I wasn't ever going to be joining those ranks.

I've been on all sorts of diets over the years and inevitably, they only work for a while because, eventually, I still want to eat. I've made deals with myself about food and given up things I adore: chips, ice cream, cake, omelets. But I haven't given them up for a good. And every night I have at least one piece of chocolate because life is too short to live in a perpetual state of deprivation.

And by the way, I look damn good for an old broad!

Be Kind

My mother knew she was dying. Two weeks before her death, as I was leaving her room, she said: Being kind, having fun, and loving are the most important things.



Kindness. It's such a simple word and idea, yet often there is too little of it in our world.

Today, I was honored to hear two remarkable 22-year-old women tell their stories of how they came to found Kind Campaign. They have crossed the United States filming the stories of girls who have been bullied or have bullied others. They have a website filled with letters from teens and adults who have taken the time to write out their apologies to those they hurt by unkindness.

Unkindness can be mean words, actions, or even the absence of action. You may wonder about what I mean by "absence of action." That's when you see someone being hurt by others and you say and do nothing. That's not good enough. We all need awareness about the consequences of our actions or inactions -- sad consequences that can lead to a lifetime of sadness, insecurity, depression, and lack of love.

Please visit http://www.kindcampaign.com/ and learn how you can help to spread kindness in this world.

And by the way, if you're my friend, I want to thank you for always being kind to me.

A Closed Mouth

A closed mouth gathers no feet.

No Longer Holding My Happiness Hostage

When I was younger, I would hold my happiness hostage. The ransom: oh, such important things as thin thighs, weight loss, the perfect outfit to wear, a good hair day, a boyfriend, etc., etc.
I'd be happy if only . . . was my mantra.
Now, I'm just happy. Happy that I woke up today. Grateful that I have a home, I have a body that works (sure there's creaks that need oiling and parts that need hoisting and lifting); grateful that I have a wonderful husband; even grateful for the Golden Retriever who looks right past me when my husband's home; and very grateful there are people in this world who love me just as I am.
I am simply grateful. The aches and pains don't really matter; the people who I think done me wrong, don't matter. The things that haven't gone my way don't matter.
Today is an opportunity to live and I am going to embrace it and run with it (or maybe hobble, depending what my ankles decide).
The point is this, and I wish I had been the first one to think it: Happiness is not a state to arrive at but a manner of traveling.

Aging Gratefully

This is my favorite hiaku:

Since my house burned down
I now own a better view of the rising sun

Aging can be like that. The more losses that confront me, whether it's through death or coping with some challenging physical changes and ailments in my body, the clearer everything seems and the more enjoyable my life.

I am not just aging gracefully, I'm aging gratefully.

In some ways my father's early death was a tremendous gift for me. Ever since I passed the age at which he died, I have known that every birthday is a gift and some people have very few of these gifts. Do I like the changes in my body that come with aging? Absolutely not! I look at various body parts and say, "Et tu?" Yet as I see the "interesting" physical changes, I am also aware that every single day is a gift, not a given.

I've had some health challenges this year and no longer know what it means to wake up feeling well. What the outcome of this will be, I still don't know. I have learned patience. I have learned to live with uncertainty. I have learned to live with humor, joy, gratitude, and love in my heart. These are gifts I hope to keep the rest of my life.

There have been times this year when I have felt so lousy as I went to sleep that I wondered if I would even be here to wake up the next morning. I obviously have, but I no longer take that for granted. And I hope to live that way for as long as I get to continue aging gratefully.

And if you are one of my dearest friends reading this and we haven't spoken today, just remember, you've made a great difference in my life and I love you always.

Sixty is the New Forty? Me thinks not!

My cardiologist told me that 60 is the new 40. I don't think so!

When I was 40, my breasts were perky, my face had no lines, there was nary a strand of gray in my hair (on my head or elsewhere), and cellulite was something I'd only seen on others.60 the new 40? I don't think so.

When I was 40, only older people died. Even if they were a friend, they were considerably older. Not so today. People my age, or only a year or two older, are dying. We think we're young, and we certainly are compared to our parents who are still alive and in their 80s or 90s, but 40, we are absolutely not.

I watch the famous people of my generation with their face-lifts leaving them virtually unrecognizable except for the sound of their voices.
They don't really look younger -- just odd, just different.

• Why didn't they realize they were beautiful?
• Why didn't they see the lines and wrinkles only added character?
• Why are people afraid of aging while simultaneously doing everything to stay alive longer?

Is someone not understanding that to have a long life means you will age? You will either go bald or your hair will turn gray; women will get facial hair while men sprout breasts; you will probably have some aches and pains; you may get senile; and you will die.

In the meantime, all of you who are still young and wrinkle free: ENJOY. Enjoy your life. Enjoy your youth. Embrace everything you can, even the bad times, and then go and celebrate your youth and your life.
And one more thing: don’t let your triceps get flabby!

Don't Stare, Grow Your Own

I went bra shopping today. I had to because I had grown -- again. If all these young ladies just waited they wouldn't need breast implants. I've done it the natural way. Except...

And that brings me to thinking about getting my first bra. I couldn't wait. I was ten years old and so excited. They called them "training bras."

Now, to tell you the truth, my youthful breasts needed no training. They knew what to do. They knew they were supposed to be perky. They were firm; they pointed just where they were supposed to -- facing front, pointing directly at anyone in front of me. "" No one, and nothing, had to show them how to do it.

But now. Now, when the girls need serious instruction and directions, there is nothing to train, or retrain them. They're going south. They have a birds eye (or should I say "breast eye"), view of my feet.

The first time I noticed this trend, I just assumed I wasn't standing up straight. So I pulled my shoulders back and took another look in the mirror. Nope, they were still pointing south. So I leaned further back, and then further, and then further -- all I needed was the music to accompany the limbo I was doing. All to no avail.

The downward trend has continued. But unlike the economy, which has a chance of rebounding, I fear my girls will remain staring at my feet the rest of their lives.

Wishes Do Come True

I swear, it was only a second or two ago that I was sitting at my desk at Shenandoah Street School in L.A. wishing I were an adult.
And poof,
I'm 60!

Phone calls vs. Facebook & Emails

The dreaded news came that our friend died this morning. This time I found out by his wife's brief post on Facebook, followed by bulk emails from her and a friend of hers.
The electronic and internet worlds are wonderful in keeping us connected, but ever since I received a message left on my answering machine back in 1991 that a good friend had died, I have realized there is something disturbing about reading or hearing a message of death and having no one to speak to. Fortunately, if one would call it that, when my friend, Sharon, died in 1991, I already knew before the call came. Even so, I found the taped message disturbing.
When the email about my cousin and then today's Facebook/emails arrived, I was home alone and had to sit by myself with all the unshared emotions and wasn't sure what my next step was. Since the news came via the internet, I didn't feel I could follow my natural inclination, which would be to buy some food, bring it over and pay a personal visit. Instead, I left messages on her phone and email box.
I understand the need to get the information out to as many people as possible, but there is something to be said about speaking to real human beings. I guess I'm old-fashioned.