Like the two comments below, I'm moving through my senior years growing in leaps and bounds, feeling such gratitude for my opportunities. In my 67th class I've finally begun teaching yoga which is something I've dreamed about doing for years, in my 66th class I began a Substack publication, and in my 65th class I published my first book. I agree with Kate, learning and growing keeps life worth living. 💜
As a woman who had newly turned 70 and broke her femur resulting in a new hip replacement, I am learning a lot of “new’s”. New moves on my yoga mat. I may not move like I did before, but now I find myself doing slower yoga and holding the poses longer. New hiking in the woods with an old friend and re-newing that childhood friendship. I never was a hiker before.
I remember fondly now my dad’s words many years ago when my brothers and I were new teens; “You kids will grow up before I ever will!” And damn if we didn’t! He passed at 92. He never lost his curiosity, his sense of humor and fondness to tell new jokes.
One of the things I love about being a teacher is that I get to reflect and grow each year. I never want to stop growing and learning. Some of the lessons we have to learn a few times. ;) I’m growing on my writing this year, publishing my writing on Substack, making real progress on my memoir but also working on the same demons. The same voice that always pushed me to run faster shows up around writing now- keep pushing to reach a wider audience etc. - when really I need to learn to play more. I’m working on the ego eradicator yoga pose.
Also, swim lessons brought back lots of joyous memories with my own kids so thanks for that Katie.
I really connected with this, thank you. I, too, am reminded of every new job I had and before that, every new grade I entered. And now, not yet retired, every new thing I learn and how to be open to that. I had started to keep a journal of every new adventure post 50 as I was determined to do or learn something new every year. It’s been fun and stretching for sure. To stop learning and growing means absolute boredom and lack of interest in life for me. I’ve always told my kids, “When I grow up, I want to be a beach bum”. I haven’t made it there yet! 😉
Recently I was asked "what does being an artist mean to me" and the short version is that, I think, for most artists they are really just life-long learners, both in and out of the studio. I enjoyed reading about this mindset shift for those who don't identify as artists (and if always learning something new, always becoming involves new school supplies, I'm definitely a fan!)
May 10, 2023·edited May 10, 2023Liked by Katie Hawkins-Gaar
I used to travel everywhere and navigating unknown places was easy for me, maybe an acquired skill I didn’t know I had developed. I could blend in anywhere, growing up dirt poor, I knew how to walk in ‘hoods, but I also learned the language of money so I would be equally at ease on a sailboat some rich dude chartered or a golf course where they gave you a caddy....
But then the travel ended as the ‘80s folded into the ‘90s and the dot com era imploded, taking my carefully crafted F500 lifestyle with it. I traveled less frequently and with a bout of CIDP, then COVID... being in NYC, Philly, Århus — my three favorite places in the world — I am anxious and ill at ease, jumpy maybe... too many people, too few choices for survival, my surroundings are slightly out of phase, out of reach and I am out of practice.
Even meeting someone new, a casual conversation where my only scripted line is “baconeggncheese on a roll” is difficult to get out.
Yet, I can write with ease in these digital spaces. Perhaps that is the next acquired skill I did not know I was developing. I hate that I’m shrinking into the spare bits and bytes of the glass page, though. I don’t know how to stop it accelerating.
Like the two comments below, I'm moving through my senior years growing in leaps and bounds, feeling such gratitude for my opportunities. In my 67th class I've finally begun teaching yoga which is something I've dreamed about doing for years, in my 66th class I began a Substack publication, and in my 65th class I published my first book. I agree with Kate, learning and growing keeps life worth living. 💜
This hit home for me this morning.
As a woman who had newly turned 70 and broke her femur resulting in a new hip replacement, I am learning a lot of “new’s”. New moves on my yoga mat. I may not move like I did before, but now I find myself doing slower yoga and holding the poses longer. New hiking in the woods with an old friend and re-newing that childhood friendship. I never was a hiker before.
I remember fondly now my dad’s words many years ago when my brothers and I were new teens; “You kids will grow up before I ever will!” And damn if we didn’t! He passed at 92. He never lost his curiosity, his sense of humor and fondness to tell new jokes.
Thank you for sharing.
One of the things I love about being a teacher is that I get to reflect and grow each year. I never want to stop growing and learning. Some of the lessons we have to learn a few times. ;) I’m growing on my writing this year, publishing my writing on Substack, making real progress on my memoir but also working on the same demons. The same voice that always pushed me to run faster shows up around writing now- keep pushing to reach a wider audience etc. - when really I need to learn to play more. I’m working on the ego eradicator yoga pose.
Also, swim lessons brought back lots of joyous memories with my own kids so thanks for that Katie.
I really connected with this, thank you. I, too, am reminded of every new job I had and before that, every new grade I entered. And now, not yet retired, every new thing I learn and how to be open to that. I had started to keep a journal of every new adventure post 50 as I was determined to do or learn something new every year. It’s been fun and stretching for sure. To stop learning and growing means absolute boredom and lack of interest in life for me. I’ve always told my kids, “When I grow up, I want to be a beach bum”. I haven’t made it there yet! 😉
Recently I was asked "what does being an artist mean to me" and the short version is that, I think, for most artists they are really just life-long learners, both in and out of the studio. I enjoyed reading about this mindset shift for those who don't identify as artists (and if always learning something new, always becoming involves new school supplies, I'm definitely a fan!)
I used to travel everywhere and navigating unknown places was easy for me, maybe an acquired skill I didn’t know I had developed. I could blend in anywhere, growing up dirt poor, I knew how to walk in ‘hoods, but I also learned the language of money so I would be equally at ease on a sailboat some rich dude chartered or a golf course where they gave you a caddy....
But then the travel ended as the ‘80s folded into the ‘90s and the dot com era imploded, taking my carefully crafted F500 lifestyle with it. I traveled less frequently and with a bout of CIDP, then COVID... being in NYC, Philly, Århus — my three favorite places in the world — I am anxious and ill at ease, jumpy maybe... too many people, too few choices for survival, my surroundings are slightly out of phase, out of reach and I am out of practice.
Even meeting someone new, a casual conversation where my only scripted line is “baconeggncheese on a roll” is difficult to get out.
Yet, I can write with ease in these digital spaces. Perhaps that is the next acquired skill I did not know I was developing. I hate that I’m shrinking into the spare bits and bytes of the glass page, though. I don’t know how to stop it accelerating.
I love this! So much space for self compassion when we realize it’s all new!
I love all your newsletters, Katie. They are just so beautifully written no matter what subject they're on!
True Biz is a little all over the place, but I really enjoyed it! I hope you like it, too.