Finding Balance

From hikes in the redwoods to protests in the city

I celebrated my 72nd birthday last week. What a time that we are in these days, and my birthday felt different in the midst of it all.

I am grateful to have reached this birthday and to still be here. And I am in turmoil with everything that is going on in our country, the world, and the earth.

I continue to struggle with how to hold onto some semblance of balance.

I want to keep informed, but as has been said before, it’s a fine line between staying informed and maintaining one’s sanity. I keep working on how to walk that line.

So, on my birthday, I signed up for one of my volunteer shifts at the zoo. Being around animals helps soothe and center me. I am training in a new area as a behavior observation volunteer. I did this task for 11 years with the elephants when we had them at the zoo. Now I am learning about a variety of other species that I will be observing during a shift. Pretty much everything moves faster than an elephant, so that is a challenge. And there are a whole lot more animals in this new area, so that’s another change, as are the number of guests, given the huge playground that is also there in front of one of the exhibits.

I will keep learning and training and see if this new area is a good fit. In the meantime, I am falling in love with all of the animals up there and making connections, as well as interacting with the guests and offering what information I have at this early point. I spend time getting to watch eagles, condors, wolves, jaguars, brown bears, black bears, mountain lions, and bison. They are all so special in their own unique ways. It is such a gift to spend time with them all.

Our zoo does a lot of conservation work, education, and does its best for the animals we have, most of them rescues. We even are helping to repopulate the bison tribe for the Blackfeet Nation in Montana. When we have bison calves, and when they are ready and able, we transport them from California to Montana, with ceremonies and prayers held along the way.

It was a good birthday morning. I came home and was quiet for most of the rest of the day, happy to receive birthday messages from friends. A friend had taken me out for a wonderful birthday dinner the evening before, as the restaurant that I wanted to go to was closed on my birthday. It was a day filled with much love and gratitude. I also tried to limit the amount of news that I watched that day, which helped.

The next day, earth day, (at this age, I celebrate my birthday week, and even birthday month! Why not?) I took myself to the redwoods for a long walk. That is my cathedral, where I most feel the Sacred Presence of God/the Universe/all the names we use for that which is greater than us. The trees are sacred to me. I feel their essence when I touch them. Yes, I am a certified tree-hugger and proud of it! They don’t hug and tell, either, as they are discreet and I know that my secrets are safe with them. I feel safe being with them, which is not how I feel in the world these days.

The following Saturday, my neighbor and I attended a protest (against what is currently happening in our government) that was held downtown. We took our signs and yelled, clapped, and shared that time with others who were like-minded. It warmed my heart to see all ages represented there, from all walks of life. It felt right to be among the crowd, to use our voices, to stand up for what we believe in and what we have fought so hard for in this country. I have marched in demonstrations before, being 72, for various causes. I have been in marches for peace, for the women’s movement, against the slaughter of elephants for their tusks, and other causes. I treasure my freedom to do that, and I don’t want future generations to lose that, to lose our beloved freedom of speech.

Looking back, I am struck by all that the week contained, from the animal connections, the peace of the redwoods, the celebration of this beautiful earth and wanting to heal the damage that we have done, to the anger and pain of the protest. This is a metaphor for life, I think. It contains joy and pain. It’s important to remember to take moments of peace, as well as to use our voices. It is all part of the journey, Balance means including it all, but not getting too lost in any one part of it, so that we maintain our sanity and wholeness, so that we can keep carrying on, so that we can try to save what we can for those to come, so that we can try and take care of things that we can while we are here.

I love being alive, with all of its gifts, including the painful ones. If we are truly alive, we feel it all. We celebrate, we mourn, we love, we fight, we live. I am grateful for what I have, for all that we still have, and for the energy and love that I still see around me that I pray will overcome the hatred and division in the end.

I have hope, and will continue to hang onto that, even if I don’t live long enough to see things turn around. I must believe in the power of love, and that keeps me going. I will keep celebrating being alive, celebrating human kindness, compassion, strength, resilience, and hope.

I will keep working on finding balance each day, even if with wobbly steps. And I will remember to reach out and hold onto others’ hands as we walk together.

Women of a Certain Age

Certain about what?

We females of the elder tribe are often referred to as”women of a certain age”. What does this even mean? What are we supposed to be certain about? Did I miss something somewhere?

I find that I’m not certain about a lot of things these days. I’m not certain about where my body and face will end up as they morph into what seems to be a combination of my mother’s and father’s aging faces and bodies.

I’m not certain how far south my breasts will travel. I’m not certain if my lips will disappear altogether as they roll back into my mouth, or how much more decorated my face and body will become as they get increasingly adorned with lines, wrinkles, and spots.

I’m not certain about which hikes I can take until I research the location of restrooms along the way. (Is this what they mean by “golden years”?)

It’s so important to keep our sense of humor, yes?

I’m not certain about whether I’ve fulfilled my purpose thus far in my life or even whether I know what that purpose might be.

I’m uncertain about where I’ll end up living as I continue aging, which of my friends will be on this path with me, who may leave too soon, whether my mind will stay with me. So many questions, so much that we cannot know.

And yet, I realize that I have had lessons and experiences along the way that do help me become more certain about at least a few things.

I’m learning to let go of things that I cannot control. That list gets longer every day.

I’m learning about the power of kindness, the exquisiteness of silence in a forest, the deepening connection that I feel with the earth and its creatures, the comfort of touching a tree and feeling that touch to my core, the loveliness of random connections, the gift of a smile that can change the course of my day, the slowing down that elderhood can bring, the slowing that helps me look around me and see more deeply, the relief of forgiveness and letting go, the bittersweetness of loss and grieving that is a testament to the depth of love felt.

I am learning that I still feel hope, even in the darkest times, when I look into the faces of my neighbor’s babies. And I’m hopeful when I see examples of human kindness every day.

My memory may not be as sharp these days, my body may not have its youthful vigor, but my heart expands and my spirit grows ever deeper.

I’m grateful these days for each morning that I wake up, for each breath, for my life.

And about all of that I’m very certain!

A Love Story

My time with an elephant taught me a new kind of love.

There was a time that I was so tired, burned out, feeling lost at my job and the changes that seemed to invalidate me, my values, and my work. My job, even though in the human services, became more about efficiency and less about human kindness. I wasn’t sure if I could survive much longer.

And as life is, there was also stress from trying to take care of my aging mother in what had always been a complicated relationship. There were other significant relationships that ended. At one point I had some health issues that were terrifying for a while but thankfully turned out ok. I felt like my world was falling apart and that I couldn’t cope anymore. I felt done with people, burned out and drained.

Maybe, I thought, I could do something during my free time to be around animals, as I have always felt such a connection to them. They bring me peace and joy. They bring me quiet in the middle of all the noise.

I contacted the local zoo that I had visited many times. It was a zoo that seemed to care about its animals (yes, it was still a zoo, which is not ideal, but compared to other zoos that I had seen, it seemed much better. They had many rescued animals and worked hard to educate people about animal advocacy and co-existence.)

So, off I went to sign up for the volunteer informational meeting. I learned in that meeting that there was something called behavior observation, where volunteers observed and recorded behaviors of the animals to gather more information to help the zoo provide better care for them.

Liking the sound of that, I signed up and attended the orientation session for the behavior observation team. After the informational session, the staff asked which animals we each might prefer to work with. I had no idea, so I put down three possibilities, knowing that I would accept any assignment. Elephants were one of my three choices.

I got chosen for the elephant behavior observation team.

Little did I know that this assignment, this change in my structure and routine, would help save my sanity and my life.

For two-hour shifts, I would observe these amazing animals, these majestic and sacred creatures, live their life. Sometimes I even got to do longer shifts in the evenings. Those shifts were filled with walking up and down the walkway in front of the exhibit, trying to stay warm and awake, bundled up in layers, with coffee and some snacks. The snacks were mostly for some other little friends, like the squirrels, who would stop by to see what was being offered.

Photo by author — What’s on the menu tonight?

I laugh when I remember at one point putting down the bag of nuts on a bench while I stepped away for a few moments to better see the elephants. When I returned to the bench, the bag was completely empty! Clearly, I needed to bring even more snacks for the next time. Message received and understood.

Back to the elephants.

I have been lucky enough to have had the privilege of observing these wonderful elephants for over 11 years. I never tire of watching and being with them.

During these past 11 years, we have lost our three females. A year ago, we moved the last remaining female to a beautiful elephant sanctuary, as females need to be in a herd, even more quickly than males do. Males in the wild will often be solitary, being kicked out of the herd when they reach a certain age, or they will hook up with other males and be part of male bachelor groups. But even male elephants eventually need to be around their own kind.

Our male, Osh, has been on his own for a year now, and it will soon be time for him to move to this same sanctuary. There are thousands of acres and other elephants there for him to get to know and be with and there are no visitors allowed. These wonderful elephants get to live their lives in peace and just be elephants. I am happy for him.

I am also deeply sad to lose him in my life. I have been grieving this upcoming loss for a while now and will continue to do so as we prepare for his departure this fall. And I remember that I want the very best for him. Love means letting go when you need to, difficult as that can be.

During my time of observations, Osh and I got to spend extra time together. I would show up early for my shift and then get to spend extra time watching him before the keepers were ready to have the elephants on the exhibit. He would be in a grassy meadow just to the side of the main exhibit while the staff was down in the barn area providing daily care to the females. There were times that he would stand in front of me (with heavy gates and fences always in between us, of course). We would stand there feeling each other’s presence, being together in that moment.

I felt his essence. I remember one of the zookeepers, when walking by, commented that Osh and I seemed to be having a moment. Yes, we were. I cannot explain it, but I felt it. I like to believe that he did too.

I have come to deeply love this elephant. It is a love that is beyond words. What a gift that is, to know how deeply we can love and connect. What a beautiful part of being human and connecting not only with each other, but with another species.

There is something so amazing about being able to stand in front of another being, simply watching. I think that it is impossible to not fall in love with that being. There seems to be a lesson in that (one of many) about love. Love is watching, learning, observing, and paying attention, with no expectations of anything in return.

But the truth is that I got a lot in return. A lot.

All these elephants have taught me about being in the moment. They helped me survive what felt like brutal work weeks. They helped me smile and enjoy, stop, slow down and see beauty in the differences between us. (And they made being large, having wrinkles and having saggy skin look good!)

Time with Osh has been one of my most precious gifts. As an elder, I have noticed that I am much more selective about who I spend time with, opting for quality much more than quantity. For me, it is better to be alone than to be in the company of someone who does not nourish me. Time is precious. I don’t wish anyone harm, but I don’t have to spend my time with everyone. This, for me, has been one of the gifts of aging.

Lessons of Wisdom from my Elephant Friends.

There are so many lessons that I have been lucky enough to learn from these wonderful beings.

Size doesn’t matter. Slow down and be who you are. Enjoy each moment. Savor each treat. Don’t tolerate those you don’t want to have around you and don’t hesitate to let them know. Reach out to those of your herd. Touch each other. (Elephants have the sweetest way of touching and twirling their trunks together when they are close to each other.)

Spend time with your herd, and spend time alone when you need it too, although you can keep your herd in sight. Stand in your own presence and power. Calm down and breathe. Do what you need to when you need to do it. Connect with your herd and with others who are kind. Remember who those beings are. Play when you feel like it, simply for the joy of playing. Get mud all over yourself to protect your skin, to cool off, and to keep the pests away. Don’t worry about what you look like. Own your majestic muddy presence.

Just be and don’t worry about doing or performing or pleasing anyone else. Never forget that you are wild. Never let others forget that either. Remember your power and your voice. Trumpet as needed.

One of the biggest lessons of all is that even though it can be excruciatingly painful to lose who and what we love, loving deeply is worth the pain. I have, in the past, doubted my ability to love deeply, due to childhood issues. I don’t doubt that anymore. You taught me that my heart is big enough to hold an elephant inside. And so, it does, and always will.