I’m off today and this blog from last year is right in line with my plans. I’ll be back next week with some exciting news about an upcoming Zoom gathering on using AI to our advantage. You won’t want to miss it, so please save the date: August 13th at 12:00 p.m. ET.

~*~

After several days of rain, the garden is bursting with new life and, as the sun rises, a pollinator party begins. Now that the beds are flush with flowers and herbs, there are more hummingbirds, bees, and butterflies than ever before, and it’s a joy to spend time in the middle of it all.

One of the things I love about having an herb garden is that it gives me a chance to do something I learned from the “Live to 100” Blue Zone documentary on Netflix. I make herb tea and drink it throughout the day. It’s a simple recipe – cuttings of sage, rosemary, apple mint, lavender, lemon verbena, holy basil, and parsley all steeped together in a one-gallon mason jar. Once cooled, I add a few ice cubes and keep it in the fridge.

This morning, I thought about hanging out in the garden, cutting herbs for tea, and watching the hummingbirds, but a voice in my head told me to wait. You have an event later today, it said, so you need to write your blog and get a few things done in the office first. I appreciated the effort to keep me focused and accountable, but I ignored the voice and went to the garden anyway.

Our wisdom years are a good time to question where our loyalties lie. And mortality provides inspiration. If you’re on the back nine, you have limited holes left to play, so you’d better enjoy every single one. That means learning to soften the impulse to put responsibility ahead of desire.

When I close my eyes and recall a few favorite memories, the ones that come to mind first are those where I put the business of life on hold and did what I wanted to do instead. Like the day I put my computer down and went to the window in my office to stare out at the fields and discovered three bucks eating lunch. I was glued to the window and the present moment for more than thirty minutes. Or the morning I chose to cancel all my appointments and drive into the city at 5 am to visit my dad in the hospital. I still remember the twinkle in his eye when I slipped him a piece of bacon for breakfast. That visit turned out to be our last.

The wisdom years are an excellent time to challenge the voices that cling to old ways of behaving. While I’m still a fairly responsible woman who likes to get things done, I’m less interested in where I should be and more interested in where I am right now. I’ve already done the past and I have no idea what the future holds. All I know is life is what’s happening right in front of me and I intend to inhale every second of its blessings and bewilderments for as long as I can.

Love,

Cheryl