A Certain Age

I am approaching a portentous anniversary of my years on the planet. It has me inviting people to a party I have not yet planned- still months away- calling in all markers, the hand holdings, late night phone calls,and interruptions of holiday dinners for an emergency gravy consultation ("Yes you can freeze that"- "No you shouldn't forgive him just because HE thinks you should") . If I MUST turn 50- I need all the support can muster.

Lately the phrase "woman of a certain age" has been rattling around in my mind. As a voracious reader I have long been aware of the phrase and picture well-coiffed and marvelously groomed ladies having tea- or cocktails- and speaking wisely to each other about things I am not sure which things- perhaps the running of their families, or their lives, or the planet. Whatever the subject they have a look, to my mind, which says that they have it licked- nothing to see here, got it all under control. To me- the "certain" part of the phrase means- they were sure. At some pre-ordained moment they had been struck with a sense of "Aha!"and everything popped into focus.

I'm waiting. "Certain" hasn't quite reached me yet.

I did a bit of research and found that the French believe "une femme d'une certaine age" is a forty-ish woman who is able to initiate boys and young men into the beauties of sexual encounters. Those clever French can build sex into anything including potatoes- or aging women.

I have not been a fan of the younger man as a rule- for a very long time I eschewed the younger man, choosing male companions older than me. My first love had been younger and quite honestly- I no longer wanted the teacher role. Unfortunately in my younger days I learned the veracity of something a friend in college swore was true- she said "There are no men- just little boys in suits". For a long time, in relationships I steered when I wished nothing more than to let someone else do the driving. I also learned along the way that just because someone has a license doesn't mean they should drive. So I took life as it came along- and gathered information. I do not know if I taught anyone about the beauty of sex- I have learned that the man who can't kiss well won't be much in the romance department- and the fellow too good at romance will likely not last beyond the death of that first bunch of too-quickly proferred roses, and that the man who can make me laugh will also be pretty good at holding me when I cry. I've also learned that looks don't count for much but attraction counts for everything. If you want to love someone- liking who they are is a pretty essential place to start. Ignore the cardigan- concentrate on the laugh.

Like the man who is lost but making good time I spent a great deal of the last 20 ears muddling through if not embracing my uncertainty. The path took me to church and ashram, temple and wooded grove communing with all my questions. I remember once lying in a yoga class, lights dimmed and incense filling the air with its chalky serenity. I had my legs stretched over my head and my toes grazing the floor behind me and I was crying into my own lap. I had made a step back instead of forward in my emotional development and was filled with questions and remorse. The teacher quietly came beside me- he was a friend- a guy named Greg who outside the ashram installed air conditioners, knelt by my side, concerned. "I'm so confused" I whispered- instantly his face lit up- "That's WONDERFUL" he said breathily "you're learning".

I know now that these were wise words but in that quiet, dark, om-filled room the only truth I experienced at that moment was that my goal in life was to haul off and clock the sensei. Fortunately for him, in that position, feet touching the ground behind my head, it was challenging to simply breathe- moving an arm would certainly have cut off my airway. The conversation did lead me to some truths about myself. The first is that when enlightenment shows up I won't acknowledge it until I'm damned good and ready and second I HATE being told what to do.

I also learned that if I believe something is an absolute truth in my life the universe will sit up and say- "Ya think so girly?" and show me just how wrong I can be.

Couple of years ago I went on my last first date- I guess. I found someone I could live with- who could also live with me. This speaks to someone tolerant with a good sense of humor. Someone magnanimous enough to be ok with my displaying our lives on the internet in my exhibitionistic need to write publicly. I love to write but never seem to get around to it- its been almost a year since I wrote here. Anyway, that wonderful person just walked into the room as I write and said he was happy to see me writing- that it had been too long. My last first date is five years younger than me- and still has that cardigan and a laugh that I would pay money to hear if it didn't come so easily upon hearing even my dopiest joke. But even this tolerant soul cannot tell me what to do. He tried once, when I had a gall bladder attack and was writhing in pain, to tell me I should go home. I dug in and refused, then threw up on his shoes. He learned not to tell me what to do- and I did eventually tell him he was right- 18 months later. My teacher would be so proud- still learning- but the curve can be unusually long between information and spoken revelation.

In an article in the NY Times the wonderful William Safire spoke about the "middle- aged spread" of the "certain age"- that what once was 40 was 50, and then 80. I have met very "certain" people of three years of age and amazingly wonderful people in their 90's who look to me with questions- their wisdom being in the knowledge that certainty is a fool's game. The world is always changing and us with it- the moment a judgement is made or an opinion etched in stone with a harrumph and a stamping of the foot there is almost a guarantee that that very footfall will rock your world. You can refuse to change your stance- you can deny change in your mind but the way of the world is change and nothing is certain- except laughter and the occasional cardigan, and that certainty changes with time. Sometimes the best you can do is shrug give in- and let the world show you all that you don't know.