I sit on the ground in front of the enormous pepper tree in my garden. The dog days of summer surround me. A warm dry breeze touches my skin, the sun sits low in a clear, blue sky.  I feel the coolness of the grass between my toes as I contemplate.

What the hell do I want to do with the rest of my time on planet Earth?  

I have had a full adventurous life. Including 89 jobs (past blog post), a five year surfing adventure out of high school, two marriages, a son, stepsons, and a current partner. I lived in the North Carolina countryside for ten years, learning how to grow food, chase raccoons out of the garden and drive a tractor. I love my work as a voice talent, directing you in your car, at the train station, and over phone systems across the US. I have volunteered at county jails and a safe house for victims of domestic abuse teaching yoga, and on a small farm, planting seedlings in the nursery. Nine years ago at 62, I moved from Charlotte to San Diego, knowing no one. The first week I drove down I-5 with the ocean to the west, windows rolled down, screaming at the top of my lungs, “I live in California!” Joy.  Joy mixed with fear, overwhelm and what the hell did I do?

What’s next?

It truly doesn’t matter as long as it brings you joy. Joy trickles out into the world with each enthusiastic beat of your heart, twinkle in your eye and smile on your lips. When you find joy in what you do, it benefits everyone. It changes the lens in which you see the world. Joy is a powerful creative force. How do you think babies get you to care for them? Ok, there may be a little oxytocin involved as well.

I bought a personalized license tag for my Subaru to remind me (and those behind and in front of me) to hold joy. Joy is a safe landing spot for sorrow, loss and hardship. It softens the edges of life. If I have a challenging day, a cute kitten video on Instagram will turn things around. Or sitting under the pepper tree with my bare feet in the grass, closing my eyes and listening to doves coo on the overhead lines. Joy is always a breath away.

My partner is embarking on a new project and the joy is palpable. He is newly retired and desires to be of service and make a difference in people’s lives. I told him as long as it brings him joy I wholeheartedly support him. Because life is short, why waste time on things that don’t bring joy?

Also, joy helps you live longer and people like to be around you when you are not a crabby asshole.

Hold the joy.

Twenty burpees and not sweating yet?! I’m impressed. I want to do that!

A young woman at my local gym is squatting, jumping back into a plank and then jumping back up into a squat. One burpee. She repeats this 20 times without stopping. She is fit and strong. Very strong. Things have definitely changed since I began working out almost 50 years ago. Did I just say 50 years?

It seems like yesterday, I ventured into a small gym in Orlando, Florida, wearing my black Led Zeppelin muscle T shirt, tights and sneakers, with my hair pulled back in a ponytail, and tentatively picked up two ten pound weights to do bicep curls. I looked around. The gym was filled with sweaty, muscle bound guys grunting and lifting. No women in sight. Most women at the time, were doing Jazzercise and Jayne Fonda workouts in their cute leg warmers.

I worked out for many years. But in 2019, I lost whatever muscle I had when I was in the hospital for several months with fungal meningitis. As I recovered, the pandemic hit and my gym closed. Although I have a daily yoga practice, attend Pilates class a few times a week and get in my 10,000 steps, I wasn’t getting much stronger. In fact, a bone density test last year showed bone loss. I don’t plan to be a fragile old lady. So last year, at 70, I wandered back into the nearest gym.

Going to the gym used to be a social activity.  The ‘regulars’ showed up at the same time to talk and catch up. The work out was secondary. Not anymore. There is little to no talking as we move through our workouts, some people listen to music through their ear pods, in their own little worlds, taking care of business. Strength training is now a serious undertaking and women are stepping up.

I watch a young woman walloping a boxing bag and owning it like a champ. I am a bit envious, but definitely inspired. I learn something new from the young women at the gym each time I go.

Maybe I could try a dead lift that way.

If she can bench press 30 pounds, so can I.

Those side lunges look like fun. I’m going to try them.

I’ve seen a big difference in my strength and tone. I wasn’t sure at my age if I could recover all the muscle I lost, but I have. The evidence is in. Strength training makes you healthy. It improves fat-burning, builds bones, maintains your brain and cardiovascular health and increases your lifespan. Having strong muscles is the new cool.

So, toss out those silly pink two pound weights. And don’t forget the protein. One gram per pound of ideal body weight and you’ll be set.