This is brilliant. I am curious -- I suddenly feel the need to retreat from society, and it's not because they no longer see me. It's because I am no longer interested. Perhaps the invisibility of older women is actually OUR choice, not society's. (A decade ago, I had the same realization about the glass ceiling in the work world. The glass ceiling represented the point at which women said F*CK IT and walked away. It was a point of inflection and perhaps even wisdom.)
Lovely to hear from you again. I am sending love and light to Calvin and you as you make your way through his cancer journey. As of 2 years ago, I have officially lived longer than 90% of my family. I'm 67. I can no longer say when my mother or my grandmother was my age....I creating my own path into my later years. I divorced 17 years ago after 30 years of marriage. Scariest and most brilliant thing I've ever done. I travel some, now, something my ex never want to do with me. I'm not with anyone now, which is fine. One less thing to fuss over. My body has changed, much more fluffy than it used to be. I'm fine with that, too...finally. As of now, I'm healthy, I have a bit of money stashed away for my future income and some fun. Thank you for giving us a peek into your life.
Astonishing writing. I so enjoyed reading this Substack and relate to a lot of what you are saying. At 71, I am happy with less human interactions and finding myself more content with my own company -- reading, writing, sewing, art -- or being outside communing with animals, trees, mountains and the sky. Possibly going loopy but caring less about this now too.
Oh, my goodness…your writing is exquisite and moving❣️ I love reading beautiful, deep writing. I’m a little envious that you have long, crazy hair…mine is thinner and thinner as I age, but I’m going to try to grow it out and see what happens. I love your description of how you learned to French braid your hair, how you researched French braiding, how you wove it throughout your piece! I find aging to be something I never really expected…it’s a wonderful daily journey, discovering in seconds, minutes, hours the joy of simply being…leaving a long, troubled trail of regrets behind me as I discover something new about my spiritual self each day and how I can connect with my loved ones in ways that count.
Your words are like a soothing balm, and somehow they always arrive in my in box just as I need to hear them.
I have just spent the weekend at my mother’s bedside as she lay in hospital unable to eat or drink and slowly slips from us. My thoughts are with you too as you share this difficult time with us.
After a 30 years as a designer in fashion, my guilty secret is a desire to wear comfortable clothes and many of my freinds too want to leave the industry now.
It’s a funny thing to say but it’s almost like your words give me permission to soften, it’ll be ok. It’s fine to slow down and just be. Life is precious.
I hope you do continue to write here we will miss you - even though we are strangers your eloquent words give us courage too .
Lyn always seems to arrive when needed. I just lost my mother. We celebrated her yesterday. I have a shattered heart but I am going to give myself the gift of slowing down so I can grieve at my pace. I will be thinking of you as you say farewell to your mom.
So sorry for your loss. The loss of a mother is profound. It's been three years since I lost mine and the process continues. I'm working on a piece of writing about that now
Thank you so much for this! I am retreating from socials as well. Sticking with Instagram and YouTube for now because, well, I have to maintain some connection to the outside world. I have been so overwhelmed I haven’t posted on Substack yet. Reading your beautiful, literally “braided” essay is calming and inspiring. Best wishes for your partner’s health.
Thank you for this beautiful writing. “This world is where my truth is” - speaks to me so much. I just had my 70th birthday, this will be my first full year of not working for pay, even part time, and I’m thinking more and more of my mom and grandmother, neither of whom worked outside the home (my mom did only until she married my dad at 24). At my age, their days were filled with peace and slowness and though at least some of that was an illusion, my impression was that there was so much contentment and lack of bother to their days and rarely did I ever see either of them without a smile and positive minds. I wonder how they would describe these years if I could ask them now? I wish positivity, courage and love to you and your partner, and peace and safety to all of us as we navigate these scary times.
I relate to this so much. I have so many questions now that I would loke to ask my mother and grandmothers. I wonder why I never thought of them before they were gone, but there is something to be said for wondering and imagining.
It is lovely to hear from you again. Thank you Lyn for your past writings about your Mother and her subsequent passing. Your words helped me knowing ,that I too, would be experiencing that moment. I said farewell to my beautiful Mother yesterday. You would have loved my mama. She was my best friend.
Thank you for these thoughts, Lyn. I will be eighty this year and I now look at "opportunities" and value them with what I want to spend the remaining time ahead of me on. Sometimes, the answer is none of those things - and I just wait patiently for the new thing to show up - if it does. If it doesn't, that's okay, too. I have family, friends and things I love to do. What more could I ask for at this age? Certainly understanding that we can't really control anything and that's good enough. Thank you again for braiding us into your writing.
Lyn, you are showing us the way. I am right behind you. It's amazing how all the building in our younger years leads us to see it as a bit of a mirage—known and not known, supported and alone. Your gift of words is clearly from your Irish lineage (mine too!) and I'm heartened by the rocking back and forth between tarot and poetry as dialogue partners for fresh self knowing.
I also love the permission to let our bodies do what they want. As women, we can never hear that message too often. Your act of loving your partner through his illness, gardening, grand parenting, writing—these are the necessary acts of defiance in a world that is aggressively creating fear and loss for so many of us.
I have a hope that the benefit of this chanllenging time will be a return to "realness", a deeper spiritual connection and return to the materiality of human life.
Lyn, your thoughtful posts always leave me reflecting. At 70, I ask myself what is important now, and how can I be true to myself in these remaining years. I am blessed. Like you, my roots have become important and I think often of my Swedish and British ancestors. Thank you for your honesty, the community of women you’ve created and inspired. Sending healing thoughts to your love and strength to you. Natalie
I just read the comments below and I see and feel that you have a loving kindred community. Sweet Calvin, your brilliant partner in crime. I hope both the surgery and the radiation remove the remaining venom and you two, along with your tribe, can share many healthy years together.
This essay touched me. I see the Irish crone you seek in the mirror with her braid, her calm wisdom and strength. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for this beautiful and touching read. I'm much less on social than in the past, but it is essential for my work. And the struggle tokeep frm being overwhelmed by the news is real and difficult.
I was so engaged by so relaxed as I read this precious share. And thank you again.
I am so moved by your honesty and your beautiful prose, Lyn. I have rarely read anything that so encapsulates the experiences of becoming an older woman. May you and Calvin have fortitude in these difficult days. Xx
I really appreciate your writing. I turned 50 this year, and the hormonal perimenopausal journey has been a rollercoaster of symptoms, including piling on 50 lbs, which are making my life more difficult physically, but which, despite my best efforts, I can't seem to be able to shed. Texts like this one remind me that we are a work in progress, that being in our bodies during the muddy periods of transformation and cocooning is part of life, that we are not a waiting room on the way to something better. Thank you.
Especially now in the winter months. I'm accepting the extra padding as nature caring for me and keeping me warm. Also as we age a little padding is protective my doctor informed me, being thin makes it more likely you can be frail.
This is brilliant. I am curious -- I suddenly feel the need to retreat from society, and it's not because they no longer see me. It's because I am no longer interested. Perhaps the invisibility of older women is actually OUR choice, not society's. (A decade ago, I had the same realization about the glass ceiling in the work world. The glass ceiling represented the point at which women said F*CK IT and walked away. It was a point of inflection and perhaps even wisdom.)
Oh I feel exactly the same way! When we are the ones in control of a choice we’re empowered.
Lovely to hear from you again. I am sending love and light to Calvin and you as you make your way through his cancer journey. As of 2 years ago, I have officially lived longer than 90% of my family. I'm 67. I can no longer say when my mother or my grandmother was my age....I creating my own path into my later years. I divorced 17 years ago after 30 years of marriage. Scariest and most brilliant thing I've ever done. I travel some, now, something my ex never want to do with me. I'm not with anyone now, which is fine. One less thing to fuss over. My body has changed, much more fluffy than it used to be. I'm fine with that, too...finally. As of now, I'm healthy, I have a bit of money stashed away for my future income and some fun. Thank you for giving us a peek into your life.
I like that you are 'fluffy'!
Here's to being fluffy!
Astonishing writing. I so enjoyed reading this Substack and relate to a lot of what you are saying. At 71, I am happy with less human interactions and finding myself more content with my own company -- reading, writing, sewing, art -- or being outside communing with animals, trees, mountains and the sky. Possibly going loopy but caring less about this now too.
Oh, my goodness…your writing is exquisite and moving❣️ I love reading beautiful, deep writing. I’m a little envious that you have long, crazy hair…mine is thinner and thinner as I age, but I’m going to try to grow it out and see what happens. I love your description of how you learned to French braid your hair, how you researched French braiding, how you wove it throughout your piece! I find aging to be something I never really expected…it’s a wonderful daily journey, discovering in seconds, minutes, hours the joy of simply being…leaving a long, troubled trail of regrets behind me as I discover something new about my spiritual self each day and how I can connect with my loved ones in ways that count.
Grace and peace to you and your life partner❤️
Wonderful to hear from you again. And so much of what you write resonates. Courage, my dear. To all of us. Thank you.
Dear Lyn
Your words are like a soothing balm, and somehow they always arrive in my in box just as I need to hear them.
I have just spent the weekend at my mother’s bedside as she lay in hospital unable to eat or drink and slowly slips from us. My thoughts are with you too as you share this difficult time with us.
After a 30 years as a designer in fashion, my guilty secret is a desire to wear comfortable clothes and many of my freinds too want to leave the industry now.
It’s a funny thing to say but it’s almost like your words give me permission to soften, it’ll be ok. It’s fine to slow down and just be. Life is precious.
I hope you do continue to write here we will miss you - even though we are strangers your eloquent words give us courage too .
I also felt that her words give me permission to be calmer, accepting, and certainly less driven to "thrive" as I was in mid-life.
I will absolutely continue writing here because your comments give me courage too!
Lyn always seems to arrive when needed. I just lost my mother. We celebrated her yesterday. I have a shattered heart but I am going to give myself the gift of slowing down so I can grieve at my pace. I will be thinking of you as you say farewell to your mom.
So sorry for your loss. The loss of a mother is profound. It's been three years since I lost mine and the process continues. I'm working on a piece of writing about that now
Thankyou
Thank you so much for this! I am retreating from socials as well. Sticking with Instagram and YouTube for now because, well, I have to maintain some connection to the outside world. I have been so overwhelmed I haven’t posted on Substack yet. Reading your beautiful, literally “braided” essay is calming and inspiring. Best wishes for your partner’s health.
Thank you for this beautiful writing. “This world is where my truth is” - speaks to me so much. I just had my 70th birthday, this will be my first full year of not working for pay, even part time, and I’m thinking more and more of my mom and grandmother, neither of whom worked outside the home (my mom did only until she married my dad at 24). At my age, their days were filled with peace and slowness and though at least some of that was an illusion, my impression was that there was so much contentment and lack of bother to their days and rarely did I ever see either of them without a smile and positive minds. I wonder how they would describe these years if I could ask them now? I wish positivity, courage and love to you and your partner, and peace and safety to all of us as we navigate these scary times.
I relate to this so much. I have so many questions now that I would loke to ask my mother and grandmothers. I wonder why I never thought of them before they were gone, but there is something to be said for wondering and imagining.
It is lovely to hear from you again. Thank you Lyn for your past writings about your Mother and her subsequent passing. Your words helped me knowing ,that I too, would be experiencing that moment. I said farewell to my beautiful Mother yesterday. You would have loved my mama. She was my best friend.
So sorry to hear of your loss. Sounds like many of us are experiencing, thinking about this loss of mother. Something to explore.
Thank you for these thoughts, Lyn. I will be eighty this year and I now look at "opportunities" and value them with what I want to spend the remaining time ahead of me on. Sometimes, the answer is none of those things - and I just wait patiently for the new thing to show up - if it does. If it doesn't, that's okay, too. I have family, friends and things I love to do. What more could I ask for at this age? Certainly understanding that we can't really control anything and that's good enough. Thank you again for braiding us into your writing.
Lyn, you are showing us the way. I am right behind you. It's amazing how all the building in our younger years leads us to see it as a bit of a mirage—known and not known, supported and alone. Your gift of words is clearly from your Irish lineage (mine too!) and I'm heartened by the rocking back and forth between tarot and poetry as dialogue partners for fresh self knowing.
I also love the permission to let our bodies do what they want. As women, we can never hear that message too often. Your act of loving your partner through his illness, gardening, grand parenting, writing—these are the necessary acts of defiance in a world that is aggressively creating fear and loss for so many of us.
Keep writing, please. With love, Julie
I have a hope that the benefit of this chanllenging time will be a return to "realness", a deeper spiritual connection and return to the materiality of human life.
Beautifully said.
Lyn, your thoughtful posts always leave me reflecting. At 70, I ask myself what is important now, and how can I be true to myself in these remaining years. I am blessed. Like you, my roots have become important and I think often of my Swedish and British ancestors. Thank you for your honesty, the community of women you’ve created and inspired. Sending healing thoughts to your love and strength to you. Natalie
I just read the comments below and I see and feel that you have a loving kindred community. Sweet Calvin, your brilliant partner in crime. I hope both the surgery and the radiation remove the remaining venom and you two, along with your tribe, can share many healthy years together.
This essay touched me. I see the Irish crone you seek in the mirror with her braid, her calm wisdom and strength. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for this beautiful and touching read. I'm much less on social than in the past, but it is essential for my work. And the struggle tokeep frm being overwhelmed by the news is real and difficult.
I was so engaged by so relaxed as I read this precious share. And thank you again.
Positivity and strength to you and Calvin. 🙏❤️
I am so moved by your honesty and your beautiful prose, Lyn. I have rarely read anything that so encapsulates the experiences of becoming an older woman. May you and Calvin have fortitude in these difficult days. Xx
I really appreciate your writing. I turned 50 this year, and the hormonal perimenopausal journey has been a rollercoaster of symptoms, including piling on 50 lbs, which are making my life more difficult physically, but which, despite my best efforts, I can't seem to be able to shed. Texts like this one remind me that we are a work in progress, that being in our bodies during the muddy periods of transformation and cocooning is part of life, that we are not a waiting room on the way to something better. Thank you.
Especially now in the winter months. I'm accepting the extra padding as nature caring for me and keeping me warm. Also as we age a little padding is protective my doctor informed me, being thin makes it more likely you can be frail.
And of course my heartfelt wishes of relief and healing to Calvin, you, and all who love and support you, at this difficult time.