This is not the first time I have taken a series of self-portraits in my hallway. The photos are reflections that appear in the full-length framed mirror that stands at the bottom of a staircase and leads to the upper reaches of my home. I am dressed in something, a garment that prompts me to think and write. I am seated on a step covered with old carpeting we have yet to remove. Above me is a small platform where one can pause a moment before you climb the last three stairs, where you finally reach the second floor. It is my granddaughter’s favorite perch. It is where she retreats to be by herself but is still close enough to those of us below. It is in-between up and down. It reflects her developmental challenge at age 9; navigating her growing independence and the times she may feel ambivalent about it.
Lots of unfinished lists. Trying to find people who are like me locally and far away. I don’t do fancy clothes anymore, have no reason to wear them and want a more utilitarian mode if dressing. The knitting group I go to is going through a change. A fair amount of people have stopped coming for political reasons, current events, and not getting what they want from the group. It happens. Like a relationship, that died and we are walking away from it. It is done and over with, so we move on. The group that is evolving is different and once again I will find my place. Where does one go when you are trying to find people who can explain world events, ways to protect you from stupidity, lemming like behavior, find the voice of reason, hope, creativity, and thoughtful conversations. I want both utilitarian and beautiful mashed together fr the perfect sweater, pants, bedding. I am getting tired of the dog ripping sheets, blankets, comforters. This is where I am.
Your voice is so lyrical and sensual, with an unexpected undertow of revelation. It inspires me to dive deeper in search of the hidden gems within. Gracias, Lyn.
You say you've got all this 'Unfinished Business', Lyn, yet you somehow seem to get so much done, which is why I admire you so much. My entire journey through life will always be 'unfinished business'. Perhaps if I accept this, I will enjoy myself a little bit more and try to be more in the present in all the tasks I approach throughout my art and business pursuits....which feels like watching grass grow most of the time! Thank you for the beautiful read.
“ Although I am 70, I am a young writer. Like my house, I am unfinished.” Love this. I just turned 70 and published my debut memoir—writing definitely keeps me young.
I have to reiterate my thoughts of several years - Lyn, you are an amazing woman in so many ways. You inspire me to do more - I turn 80 this golden month of October, and it is also my 61st anniversary of coming to America! I’m off again soon, this time back to my original home in England to visit family and friends, then back here to get back to writing…….my memoir perhaps!
I would say my unfinished business is me. At the age of 66, I am finally discovering who I am. The w
me before I learned that pleasing people was the way to get loved. The me I thought had to be perfect in order to be “chosen”. The me who thought that being beautiful meant looking good. The me who for 7 years has been trying to unlearn all of the above...and more. I’m getting there. But will always be in the unfinished stage. And there is something infinitely satisfying and exciting about that.❤️
The place your grand daughter perches... when I was a child, the youngest of 5 children by 7 years, I always played on the stairs. We had a pause platform too, the turn on the staircase and my ‘library’ would be set up there, stamping books in and out for my dolls. My opera performances took place there, where my screeching pitch took flight and assaulted my beleaguered family’s collective ear. My hospital was established with sick dolls and teddies lined up under blankets, medicine and injections administered. It was a place of wild imagination. I was transported instantly by your referencing it and so enjoyed reading the rest. There’s much that remains unfinished, I’m working on it, from the turn on the stairs.♥️
Your writing always provides light where there is darkness and your photo depicts the same..thank you for lighting up our getting old, it’s a real privilege to still be here and one we should acknowledge even if the aches & pains tell us otherwise, keep living your best life always. 🙏🏻
This essay immediately made me think of A A Milne's poem Halfway Down, from the book When We Were Very Young. I am a retired social worker (medical) and retired from an adjunct instructor position in behavioral health at Southern Illinois University School of Dental Medicine. And - like many of us social workers - always interested in clothing and style. 😉 So I enjoy your reflections as well as your photos, and look forward to your book.
I am always looking forward to your posts. As English is not my first language I admire your ease with wording and language and also the topics you choose to write about.
I love this post! The photo drew me in first, but then your words resonated. Your staircase reminds me of the one that I loved to sit on in my grandfather's house. Sadly, new owners tore down that beautiful home down several years ago and replaced it with something ultra modern. A pity, I think. So little appreciation in our culture for old homes and old people!
As for unfinished business... I'm turning 71 this week and definitely far from finished! As winter approaches and we'll be indoors more, I've been looking around at our home of more than 40 years and thinking that it's really past time for some changes. We redid most of the outside a couple of years ago and love the results, but the inside is looking a bit weary. You've inspired me to give that more thought!
Lots of unfinished lists. Trying to find people who are like me locally and far away. I don’t do fancy clothes anymore, have no reason to wear them and want a more utilitarian mode if dressing. The knitting group I go to is going through a change. A fair amount of people have stopped coming for political reasons, current events, and not getting what they want from the group. It happens. Like a relationship, that died and we are walking away from it. It is done and over with, so we move on. The group that is evolving is different and once again I will find my place. Where does one go when you are trying to find people who can explain world events, ways to protect you from stupidity, lemming like behavior, find the voice of reason, hope, creativity, and thoughtful conversations. I want both utilitarian and beautiful mashed together fr the perfect sweater, pants, bedding. I am getting tired of the dog ripping sheets, blankets, comforters. This is where I am.
Your voice is so lyrical and sensual, with an unexpected undertow of revelation. It inspires me to dive deeper in search of the hidden gems within. Gracias, Lyn.
Thank you, another inspiring essay. This is also one of the few places online where I also read the comments. Feel sustained by both.
You say you've got all this 'Unfinished Business', Lyn, yet you somehow seem to get so much done, which is why I admire you so much. My entire journey through life will always be 'unfinished business'. Perhaps if I accept this, I will enjoy myself a little bit more and try to be more in the present in all the tasks I approach throughout my art and business pursuits....which feels like watching grass grow most of the time! Thank you for the beautiful read.
Beautiful essay. And the photo that accompanied it looks like a Rembrandt. Thank you for sharing it. Your writing is beautiful.
“ Although I am 70, I am a young writer. Like my house, I am unfinished.” Love this. I just turned 70 and published my debut memoir—writing definitely keeps me young.
I have to reiterate my thoughts of several years - Lyn, you are an amazing woman in so many ways. You inspire me to do more - I turn 80 this golden month of October, and it is also my 61st anniversary of coming to America! I’m off again soon, this time back to my original home in England to visit family and friends, then back here to get back to writing…….my memoir perhaps!
Mary in North Carolina💞
I would say my unfinished business is me. At the age of 66, I am finally discovering who I am. The w
me before I learned that pleasing people was the way to get loved. The me I thought had to be perfect in order to be “chosen”. The me who thought that being beautiful meant looking good. The me who for 7 years has been trying to unlearn all of the above...and more. I’m getting there. But will always be in the unfinished stage. And there is something infinitely satisfying and exciting about that.❤️
The place your grand daughter perches... when I was a child, the youngest of 5 children by 7 years, I always played on the stairs. We had a pause platform too, the turn on the staircase and my ‘library’ would be set up there, stamping books in and out for my dolls. My opera performances took place there, where my screeching pitch took flight and assaulted my beleaguered family’s collective ear. My hospital was established with sick dolls and teddies lined up under blankets, medicine and injections administered. It was a place of wild imagination. I was transported instantly by your referencing it and so enjoyed reading the rest. There’s much that remains unfinished, I’m working on it, from the turn on the stairs.♥️
A yet unpublished body of work.
Your writing always provides light where there is darkness and your photo depicts the same..thank you for lighting up our getting old, it’s a real privilege to still be here and one we should acknowledge even if the aches & pains tell us otherwise, keep living your best life always. 🙏🏻
Hi Lyn, another inspiring article. I like the term "unfinished business". I think of my latest life chapter as a "work in progress".
This essay immediately made me think of A A Milne's poem Halfway Down, from the book When We Were Very Young. I am a retired social worker (medical) and retired from an adjunct instructor position in behavioral health at Southern Illinois University School of Dental Medicine. And - like many of us social workers - always interested in clothing and style. 😉 So I enjoy your reflections as well as your photos, and look forward to your book.
Evocative and inspiring. Thank you.
I am always looking forward to your posts. As English is not my first language I admire your ease with wording and language and also the topics you choose to write about.
I love this post! The photo drew me in first, but then your words resonated. Your staircase reminds me of the one that I loved to sit on in my grandfather's house. Sadly, new owners tore down that beautiful home down several years ago and replaced it with something ultra modern. A pity, I think. So little appreciation in our culture for old homes and old people!
As for unfinished business... I'm turning 71 this week and definitely far from finished! As winter approaches and we'll be indoors more, I've been looking around at our home of more than 40 years and thinking that it's really past time for some changes. We redid most of the outside a couple of years ago and love the results, but the inside is looking a bit weary. You've inspired me to give that more thought!