I have noticed some changes in me of late…positive ones. I have more of a sense of peace, more of a spring in my step, more of a positive attitude, and more of a sense of self. I am feeling healthier and happier.

As odd as this sounds, I think these subtle changes might be related to writing this blog. It is giving me a forum to get my meandering thoughts out – sort of a defragging of the mind, if you will. It has given me an opportunity to learn new skills in personal branding, website design, and social media. It has allowed me to dabble in my hobby of “googling” every random idea or fact, without the guilt of wasting time.

“What are you doing?”

“I am looking up Ron Burgundy on the web.”

“Why exactly?”

“It is for my blog on sex.””

“Uh huh. Right… I am going to the gym.”

I have been heartened by the outpouring of support from family and friends; granting me permission to continue with my musings.  Where once before, part of my definition of self was nurse and business owner, that has changed of late. My definition of self, now includes blogger.

I understand why the exercise of writing is cathartic, and I get how it can serve as a means of clearing one’s mind and getting emotionally centered. But why do I feel physically healthier? Hmm… Two seemingly unrelated events occurred with me this week that helped me to understand this phenomenon.

First, I attended a Jason Mraz concert with my husband. At the concert, there was a large circle in the background behind Mraz and the Raining Jane band. It was used in multiple laser light backdrops throughout the performance. But it started out as just a white circle with some amorphous shapes… and this took me back to my high school dance days. But more on this later…

Second, I read the Time Magazine Special Health Double Issue (February 23/March 2, 2015). The magazine’s cover displayed a beautiful blond haired, blue-eyed, baby with the headline “This Baby Could Live to be 142 Years Old”.  Interesting…my blog is about living past one’s midpoint and the trials and tribulations that accompany the journey, so maybe some pearls of wisdom can be gleaned from perusing the articles.

Well, according to the Time’s article “Get Your Head in the Game”, your outlook on life can have a rather large impact on how your cells age. The article describes research conducted by Ellen Langer  in 1979 where she took eight septuagenarians on a retreat to an area designed to look like their world in another, younger time in their lives. Physical and cognitive tests were conducted prior to the retreat. After 5 days of immersion in this environment, their physical and cognitive tests were repeated, which revealed a dramatic improvement; similar to what was to be expected when they actually were younger.

The article discussed other researchers and their work in the area of aging.  Many supported the practice of meditation and also an interesting combination of meditation  and mindfulness, called Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (MBSR). Medical and psychological research have documented the health benefits of meditation, yoga and MBSR.  Included in these benefits is a decrease in inflammation, which is increasingly being linked to heart disease, cancer, Alzheimer’s disease, Parkinson’s disease and depression.

So I got to thinking about how I would physically and emotionally react if transported back to the age that I often feel is my “real” age. The age of high school, when social, political, and personal inclinations form…the age when I felt the best physically.  To paraphrase the classic Kathryn Turner/Nicholas Cage movie, let me title this mindful meditation: Mimi Got Married.

I have just taken my blood pressure, noted my pulse and respiratory rates, and am mindful of my levels of stress and energy…

A Golden Opportunity…

I have returned to my childhood home of Golden, Colorado on several occasions and relished in the rush of recall that occurred with each step on my magical memories tour of downtown Golden “Where the West Remains”. In the past, I have even virtually retraced steps my best friend Trish and I took from our homes on Table Mountain to the Rec Center. How? Google Earth – Street view. I wanted to prove that we really did walk everywhere when we were younger, and that my son did not need me to drive him to his friend’s home 3 blocks away. I typed in the old address and watched as Google Earth went from an outer-space view of the United States to the street that I grew up on.  Ahhhh, yes….

In my mind, I enter my 5-day, cell-age-defying retreat in Golden, Colorado, circa 1969-1971

Day 1 – Welcome to Golden…

I find myself walking from 19^th street on Washington Avenue towards downtown. Trish, my gal pal, is with me and we are sporting our bell-bottoms, corduroy vests over our Madras shirts, and water Buffalo sandals imported from India.  ‘Stylin! We pass the courthouse on the left. We wave to my brother Tom, working the counter at the Cow Palace. We steady ourselves for the steep downward slope just before reaching the outskirts of town. The surly pet store owner is glaring at us as we stick out our tongue at the even surlier monkey in the cage. We pass by the movie theater that is playing Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

We cross 13^th Street, glancing to our right for a view of the Coors factory, and stop at Hested’s Department Store to check out some sales, but not to buy. This annoys the clerk, so we leave. We cross Washington Avenue and head to Foss Drug Store to get some gravy fries at the upstairs restaurant. As we pass through the store, we see Mr. Hervi, the friendliest pharmacist on the planet, winking at us.

After the fries and a glass of Tab, we continue our journey down the street, passing the Ace Hi Tavern and wondering why it always has a crowd in the early morning; then we stop at the Ben Franklin Five and Dime for some chocolate Ice Cubes and chalky mint cigarettes (to mask the smell of the real cigarettes we will light up later). If we turn right on 12^th street (or is it 11^th?) we can go to the antique store where Trish and I waxed furniture for a small stipend to support our Ben Franklin candy habit; or turn left and walk by the shoe repair shop where I helped out for a couple of weeks while a worker recovered from some illness. The distinctive smells of Murphy’s wood soap, new leather, and shoe polish always bring me back to these memories.

But we just continue on our straight path towards Clear Creek where we stop at Parfet Park and check out the boys from the School of Mines playing Frisbee.  After this respite, we head toward the Rec Center enjoying  the roar of the river beside us.  We pass by the pool and wave to the lifeguards while Ms. Hottinger glares, but then smiles.

We make our way to the tennis courts where my sister Chris is waiting for me.  I am no longer in my bell bottoms.  I am now sporting a t-shirt with shorts and the high-top black sneakers my mother begged me not to wear.  Chris and I are teaching and coaching tennis.

Yep… I am feeling younger and healthier already.

Day 2 – Lubahn Trail and Castle Rock

Today I am back at my street on Table Mountain. The views from our home are amazing, yet as a child and teenager, I never really appreciated them…well, maybe that is not true…I was always in awe of the beauty, but did not yet understand the real estate value!

Our house is perched on the side of the mountain facing the mesa, like a hiker leaning into the wind. Castle Rock stands majestically in my view. I see my siblings Stephanie, Betty, Jim and Joanie in  Halloween costumes as they entertain the neighborhood with a bike parade. Nancy, Kent, Leah, and Blake (neighbor kids) join in.

My brother, Mark and I decide to hike the mountain. One of our neighbors, Mr. Lubahn, spent hour upon hour blazing the trail (now named for him) up the mountain. So off we go. I can feel the warmth of the sun and the dryness of the air; I can smell the dust and sagebrush. We walk with our eyes looking down, ever alert for the indigenous rattlesnake.

After the climb, we stand atop Castle Rock looking over the Coors factory. The wind is in our faces so we can smell the hops from the beer brewing process.  We can see Golden High School to the left, with the School for Boys (reform school kind of boys) farther to the left. We see the blue shades of Lookout Mountain (Mt. Zion) with the large lighted “M” signifying the School of Mines. My brother Tom once admitted that he thought this was the M in AMERICA on a map of the United States. Hmmm…I can see his thought process!

When we return, I see my brother Andy and his friend Craig, paying homage to the dirt bike that stands gleaming like a golden artifact in the garage, taunting the under aged pre-teenagers. And there, in the kitchen, I catch my mother, hiding a bag of Butterfinger minis in the cabinet above the stove, a special treat she plans to share with my Dad later after we kids (9 in all) go to bed.

Later in my conceptual retreat, family on  lawn chairs in our front yard, we watch the Fourth of July fireworks set off atop Castle Rock. OOOOH….AHHHHH…. as each rocket flies. Then an amazing display of whistling, booming, bright lights and colors dance in the sky as an errant spark prematurely sets off the fireworks in the truck. A magnificent…albeit short…celebration!

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Wow, as I am typing this, I am sitting up straighter, breathing deeper, smiling…

Day 3 – 1%, 2%, 3% Beer…All for Golden, Stand Up and Cheer!!

I am now walking around the high school…there is Cindy and Jeff kissing under the bleachers at the football field…there is Marty and Gary playing doubles against Rick and Bruce on the courts at the end of the sun-dappled white stone trail.

Deb and I head out to McDonalds on Colfax for lunch, bribing the “rent-a cop” –  who is hired by the school to prevent such antics –  with promises of bringing back fries or an apple pie. We run into my mother there having lunch with my youngest siblings…oops… yes Mom, we are heading right back to school. We decide to go to the restaurant at the Holiday Inn instead, but are deterred by Mr. Difford, our principal, who just happened to have the same idea…oops… yes, Mr. D, we are heading right back to school. Yes, Mr. D, we will check in with Mr. Cochrane…gulp!

Upon returning to school, I sit in the sun between “B” Building and “C” Building and swap draft numbers with classmates I thought I had forgotten. “What number did your brother get?” “92.”  “Wow, that’s so low. Are you worried?” “My older brother is already in Nam, so yeah, we are worried”. “ How about your cousin?” “His is 346.” “Congrats!”  I notice other classmates. Some “rapping”, others reading the ever popular The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.

I hear Mindy along with other talented classmates in the Centennial Singers practicing in the courtyard for a performance at the school carnival. I enter “A” Building through the door nearest the gyms. I briefly see my sister Christine in the small gym practicing on the uneven parallel bars for the State Meet. I cross through to the large gym through the girls’ locker room. The gym is being prepared for the upcoming carnival. My friend John approaches and asks if I want to see the putt-putt golf course that started under the far end basketball hoop, then trailed through the boys locker room.   To get to see that citadel of male testosterone? Why sure! Wave to Coach McLaren. Wave to Dave in his letterman’s jacket. Wave to the football player, Mark who finished taking a shower and is coming into the locker room with just a towel…dragging at his feet…oops.

Maybe it is best if I return tomorrow for the big dance. Although, that memory certainly got the old heart pumping at aerobic levels. Good for my health.

Day 4 – Imagine all the people, sharing all the world…

Today I am driving in our family’s Volkswagen bus. I have a large plush tiger in the back and I am delivering it to the School of Mines Athletic Building building where my sister is helping her fellow cheerleaders add finishing touches to the GHS homecoming float. We are playing the Lakewood Tigers in the big game. The parade down Washington Avenue will start soon…

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Now I am listening to the varied sounds of my youth – Suspicious Minds…Honky Tonk Woman…My Sweet Lord… In the Summertime, Maggie May, Imagine. I am going to the Homecoming Dance. I enter the school holding hands with my date, huge heavy corsage precariously pinned to the fabric of my gold velveteen dress. The small gym has been transformed from the gymnastics haven to a teen disco replete with liquid nitrogen smoke and a light show that is a technological marvel!   Yep, Jason Mraz thought he was clever with his lasers. But not as clever as my classmates at GHS! Their use of a petri dish with oil and food coloring, bouncing to the beat of Mama Told Me Not to Come, atop of an overhead projector, was inspired! State Street Electric Company couldn’t have done any better.

On the eve of my last mental retreat day, I sneak out of the gym with my date and some friends and we head out to the secret woodsie at the end of 10^th street, past the police station, past the swimming pool, across from the baseball fields. Here we drink Spañada and Boone’s Farm Apple Wine, and laugh at our cleverness. On the way back home, at the corner of 10^th and Washington, Nikki calls “Chinese Fire Drill!” and we all lumber out of the car, circle it one time, and jump back in…more aerobic exercise to counteract the physical effects of aging.

Day 5 – Silence is Golden

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,

And remember what peace there may be in silence…

The beginning lines of the Desiderata

I am back doing my cognitive walk-around in what is now vintage Golden. I am alone and silent. I start at the Golden Bowl to see my mom roll the ball in that final frame. I walk down Jackson Street towards my dad’s CPA office on 19^th. I turn towards Castle Rock, on my way back to our home, but I take a detour left on Ford Street instead. There I travel through old neighborhoods with their canopy of trees. To my left there is the Easter Egg house, the one with the brightly painted stones that encircled the tree trunks, the house that was always adorned with Christmas lights. I pass the church where I would attend teen dances. I turn to my right and ascend the mountain again to East Street, then left again towards St. Joseph’s basement church. There is Monsignor waving me near.

I pass Coors on the right, then Safeway. I am meeting up with Dad at Stuart’s junkyard to find porcelain doorknobs for our Cripple Creek mountain cabin.

I am incredibly at peace…in my mental walk about…and now at my desk.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,

gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

The last lines of the Desiderata

 

My heart rate has slowed, my blood pressure has dropped, my mood has elevated. The cells of my body have age-adjusted to my 17 year-old self.

Please share your thoughts and stories about how your outlook on life, your mind, or how your meditation exercises can help you live longer.

 

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