Sashka drills down and says Gen Xers are "reframing menopause as a life stage (not a medical condition)." If I may borrow the concept, like Gen Xers, some Boomers are going through a life stage instead of into a retirement home.

In the bright sunshine, I thought next of duality, or how life seemed to be constantly reminding me of two sides of a coin, the flip side of a decision, young and old, sunny and cold, and on and on, causing me to ask are the parts of us separate, even contradictory?

The first side is very familiar to me. I waffle and wait, letting my emotions cloud clear thinking. Sometimes the waiting decides for me. Change interrupts and forces us to explore options.

Love, laugh, cry, I heard in my head. Maybe it's sarcasm or maybe it's a little wisdom leaking into my head because I heard these words next: serve, don't take yourself too seriously, and release. How I arrived at that second set of words took years.

I had that kind of conversation with a good friend. It was amazing how we each interpreted events and snippets we'd heard from various sources differently, radically differently. But because we're good friends, we listened to each other, asked questions, challenged each other, and agreed to disagree on some things.

The rush of getting things done and going for a goal is addictive. Using a targeted approach and my perseverance, I lost weight, accomplished home projects, and went to night school, all to accomplish my goals and get ahead.

This is not an idyllic place; it is a powerful space where the self gets out of the way of the magic.

I was told, no doubt by a disapproving friend, that my grandfather's first wife was small in stature but mighty in spirit. After all, she gave birth to and raised seven children, who all turned out to be hardworking, responsible citizens. I was told that after raising her children, she took classes, probably at the University of B.C. I'm sure she was in her golden brain years then.

I was told they would not leave this world as long as they needed to carry their memories. As the last soul passed me, he turned around and said one word, "Remember."

It turns out we feel as much stress in certain social situations, like social media scrolling, as we do in isolation. When I think about it, I'm really comparing my self-worth, accomplishments, appearance, and social status to the people featured in front of me as I scroll.

Certain steps will help you with the stages, whether you’re facing losing summer or in the middle of a crisis. None of the three steps will disappear or stop changes; change is inevitable, and out of it comes growth, if you're open to it.

On the other side of the path, yarrow blooms nodded in synchronized motion with the chirping crickets. I wonder if the other walkers think I’m daft? I'm surrounded by incredible beauty, yet I’m wobbling down the path buried in my phone, texting what's streaming out of my head.

The question I want to explore is this: when wanting to bring something into your life that you want, are you who you need to be to receive it?

The thought I had after my traffic frustration, survival, and no-one cares attitude was to turn inward for answers and not turn off or tune out. OK, I may need to turn away from news channels, too, for my mental health, but I'm learning to turn inward to work on my daily stress level.

I Found My People Why do I even attend these writing intensives! I thought, chastising myself for not remembering the last few I had...

When we as individuals choose our responses from prosocial behaviours, and promote those behaviours in ourselves and others, we are doing our part to keep the lever of basic care and kindness from reaching a tipping point and falling toward selfishness and apathy.

Walking around the bend in the path, I wasn’t happy about the humid heat enveloping me. I’d started my walk early that morning to avoid it. Now I was facing into the sun, its rays piercing my skin. As I grow older, my skin, especially my forearms, breaks out in itchy red bumps. It wasn’t even mid-summer yet, I mused, as my mind wandered back in time. 

Collage with modern interior images, abstract art, and winter scenes. Text: "montages" and “I dreamed that, as I wandered...” Mood is artistic.

So how does one pivot from a sucker punch to the gut and wrenching unfairness, to reclaim one’s power? In my life, I have faced a couple of extremely challenging situations, one of which was life-threatening, and these experiences have shaped my perspective.

Hope is not a cursory sigh of resignation. It’s an inspired intention, and as a writer, I can attest to that definition. My debut book is a memoir of mystical transformation. My dreams and visions, and this kind of hope, fueled this transformation.