I’ve been doing some thinking about aging, now that I have reached my mid-50’s. Woops, make that my mid-70’s. See, that’s the problem. My brain has not caught up with what my body thinks it is doing.
Wuff on a Porch Swing by Bill Funk
Honey, I'm Home . . . A Lot! By Debbie Leaman
Years ago, I left an investment career to become a freelance writer. During the day, when my husband Howard was at work and our two kids went off to school, our house was my domain. I worked at my desk in a common area off the kitchen where sunlight poured in through large windows—a luxurious and quiet space where I wrote without distractions and answered to no one. It was perfect.
And, then, last summer, Howard retired.
Walking with a Good Stick by Renee Daines
Creative Aging Blog - a forum to share our stories!
For years I've resisted setting up a blog. I'm a deliberate writer, so feeding a blog when I'm not inspired or don't have time isn't something I felt comfortable with. But, about a year ago, when I was preparing my Creative Aging writing workshops, I scoured the web for personal essays on aging and I came up short. I couldn't find any sites for these types of pieces. And that got me thinking . . .
Lessons in Courage
I’ve taken ski lessons since the age of seven, and have always hated them. I’ve been led down chutes, over precipices and through the trees, and have panicked more than once. While I love to ski, and want to improve, I struggle to keep my fear in check.
So why, at the age of 57 did I become a ski instructor?