reflections on turning 60

awestruck

Last night, I saw the most amazing animated film. It’s called Flow

A cat finds himself marooned on a tiny piece of high ground when his world is destroyed by a great flood. He meets an unlikely group of creatures – a capybara, a lemur, a bird and a dog – and they work together (mostly) to find dry land. It’s a breath-taking story of friendship, courage and survival.

Curiously, not one word is spoken throughout. Instead, they communicate with their animal voices and expressions. Frankly, they don’t need words to share their feelings as they dig deep for a will to survive floating through not so much devastation, but beauty.

“Flow” is a meditation on wonder and living and you really ought to see it.

bye-bye fifties

In two days, I’ll say goodbye to my fifties and embrace my sixties.

I doubt there will be a momentous cloudburst of rainbow unicorns pooping out pixie dust this Saturday, but the day will be properly celebrated with friends, plus food, booze (not me!) and games followed by a guided full moon walk (call me “Ms. Guide”) the following day. Life is good.

So, what can I share from the vast wisdom from 59 years living on this planet?

The quick and dirty answer is to keep flexing that wonder muscle.

There’s an old adage, “Do one thing every day that scares you,” Whenever I hear it, I get visions of bungee jumping from a skyscraper. It is -6 today in Minnesota, so there would be an added level of panic involved attempting to dress for such a terror-inducing exercise.

But I don’t think that’s what’s meant by that advice. It’s more about stepping out of your comfort zone on a regular basis and doing the uncomfortable thing that helps you grow.

The saying is often attributed to Elenor Roosevelt, but what she actually said, is a lot more complex:

“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”

So it’s not about facing fears, or doing something risky just for risk’s sake that helps us grow. It’s about being courageous when courage is called for.

the beauty that surrounds us

In the movie “Flow,” you are invited into the cat’s mind as he wrestles with a choice of staying put on his tiny bit of dry land, or making a break for it to leap onto a passing boat, even if that means plunging into the water.

Each move he makes to survive, gives him a bit more strength to face the next challenge.

As he flows with what life has brought him, he builds up enough strength to help the others. He shares his food (even with a pack of dogs) and helps the lemur collect his beloved found objects into a basket they load onto their boat. Ultimately, he uses his wits to save the capybara from falling into the abyss.

But even in such a challenging situation, the animals are surrounded by beauty. Things are harsh, but there is still loveliness from the shimmery reflections on the water, a magnificent breaching whale in a half-submerged city and the view from the clutches of a bird’s claws. 

To be filled with wonder as a part of your life is to actively seek out moments of amazement, curiosity, and awe – each and every day.

You don’t need a magnificent trail to practice wonder (don’t tell Blissful that!) You can flex your wonder muscle in moments of stress – like a flood or serious illness – or in a simple act, like noticing the sun lighten the frosty windows on a cold winter morning. 

Cultivating wonder requires a childlike openness to the world. That may be why “Flow” has been sold as a children’s film when it’s really for everyone. There’s a simplicity in the sound of the animals’ pads on the wooden planks and the wind through trees.

Being totally present doesn’t require analysis, just a choice.

let’s flex that wonder muscle

So how do we cultivate more wonder?

Start by paying attention.

What is one beautiful thing you see right now? Observe the details, slow down and take it in. Maybe even describe it out loud or in a note to a friend. Hold that wonder.

It’s no surprise to me that the setting in “Flow” is nearly always outdoors. That’s because nature is so wondrous and offers unlimited opportunities for our practice. I have a quirky habit of always stepping out on the porch each morning to welcome the day. Today’s report: nostrils froze up in 20 seconds. That in itself is a wondrous bit of trivia!

Wonder is not just loveliness, but also mystery about ordinary things. You can ask “why?” and “how?”rather than being certain you know the answer – then play in the answers that are unknowable. When you dig in deeper, that’s what religions are. How can we explain grace and synchronicity? There is something awesome and unknowable, a force in the universe. Not sure what it is, but inviting it over for tea!

aliveness

At this point, you can probably tell that seeing “Flow” was the highlight of these final days of my fifties.

I don’t want to spoil things, but I want to share with you one of the most wondrous moments of the film. I wept when one of the animals does not survive. It almost appears by choice. Maybe it was his pride or a loss of will to live, I don’t know why.

I like to think he chose to go when he did, and his decisive act was noble and beautiful. It was his time.

It brought to mind the mystery of our aging and our losses and ultimate death. We fight for survival, but eventually we are release from the bondage of being alive and all that entails.

I’m sure I’ll be teased a little about being an old bat now and no longer the ingenue (ok, admittedly, that’s been for a long while now!) But having wonder in all things keeps me feeling alive and present while I am here and as I am here. It can for you too, blurring the lines between yourself and all that surrounds you.

So linger, slow down, notice, appreciate with all your sense – and go see the film!