Aging Gracelessly - A Mezzanine

When I started writing my "Aging Gracelessly" series on the eve of my fortieth birthday, it had been my intent to put out four amusing (or at the very least interesting) stories highlighting each decade of my life. Of course... I am now actively working on my fiftieth year of life, so the four-part series has become a five-part series due to my slight tardiness on publication by nine and a half years. Whoopsie! But now I find it critically important to add a sixth "mezzanine" floor to my leaning tower of Me. Because I inadvertently upset one of the two people most responsible for my existence on this earth... my Mother. It's quite possible that I've also upset my Father, so I am dedicating this blog post to both of them, just in case.

PARENTS: I love you guys... and you raised me right. I had a lovely childhood full of great things, and I'm deeply sorry if it came off any other way in my previous posting.

When I refer to stressful memories and then describe them in detail... I want to be clear to everyone about why I did that. It's only because in a newly formed brain of a zero-to-three year old, there isn't much to report on. My birthdays melt together, my trips to the park become one, my time playing with doggies are mixed up, my vacations are a blur. A few points here and there reach clarity, and not much else does. Unfortunately for me, brains are designed to remember the bad - it's an instinctive survival thing, right? BUT it's not that I forgot the good! It's that those memories are blurred. I can't tell a 2 year old memory from a 4 year old memory... and I was trying to go in chronological order... and that's it. That is as nefarious as it gets. I promise... I had a great childhood. My parents busted their chops to give me a good home and raise me right and keep me safe. And I am deeply grateful for all they did and all their love.

I wouldn't want to change a single thing about my childhood - it is the reason I am who I am and I happen to like who I am! Thanks mom and dad - you da best!

OK... we will now return you to your regularly scheduled program.

The Language of Trees

It has been postulated by scientists on and off for most of my life that trees and plants feel pain and have something equivalent to emotions. Some of this (primarily research done in the 60s and 70s, I believe) has been largely debunked as wishful thinking and biased testing, but by the same token there has been mounting evidence that trees and other plant life do communicate with each other, even help each other in forests by sharing nutrients with their neighbors, or if distressed enough that they will certainly die... donating their last reserves to those same neighbors. They don't even have to be the same type of tree for this to happen.

In this way... I find it exciting to think that big forests operate much like a brain, with each individual tree functioning as a neuron. But what if it went a step further, and the forests were more like a community? Each leaning on the other for support, and giving sacrifices for the greater good during tough times? All I know is, every time I go for a hike in a dense forest... I feel a deep sense of peace and relief. Their gentle swish of branch and leaf, their cooling shade, and for lack of a better word... their vibe... it brings me joy.

We could learn much from the language of trees... 

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