Dear Reader:

I totally broke down and bought another yoga mat.   Mine was clawed to death by an overexcited kitty.   Plus, I needed to recommit to yoga.   I am definitely planning to do a weekly class.  And, I've started some gentle daily meditation (although I just read this article in the Atlantic which says that some people can go from bad to worse, psychologically, with meditation - not our usual impression...just a reminder for me not to drink the Kool-aid and think that it's necessary to become some sort of meditation disciple).  I dusted off my grad school copy of "Wherever you go, there you are" by Jon Kabat-Zinn.   So, if I end up smelling like patchouli and wearing tie dye all the time, well, you'll know what's going on.

The birthday was epic (in a very Lisa way) and lovely.   Although, my kids were somewhat disappointed that I did not have a huge party and invite all of their friends.  They were nonplussed by my desire to have a quiet day.    I taught a little, practiced a little, graded a little, read a little, napped a little, had dinner with friends, and snuggled with my kids.   I ended the day with a bubble bath and my favorite section of "Persuasion" by Jane Austen (probably my favorite book...).

I am feeling my age in two ways (one of which I will outline here - the other is an excruciating muscle ache in my back/neck caused by sleeping wrong):

I am, in fact, (as expected) going to be wearing bifocals as of next week.   I had my first appointment with this eye doctor who was quite the character in a Tom Wolfe novel.   The whole office/waiting room was decorated like the set of a Miami Vice episode from the 80s.   The doctor himself was wearing wingtips (!) and a white button down shirt and a thin white tie with his white doctor jacket (!).   The art was very southern urban, glimmery, glassy, modernesque.   I really quite enjoyed the visit, visually.  And, he spent a hilariously long time trying to soothe what he anticipated would be my feelings about my age and how bifocals meant something very DRAMATIC and AGED.   Ha, ha, ha, ha.   I feel pretty good about my decision on new frames because, of course, bifocals will need bigger frames than my long-lived tiny ones.    I picked the smallest ones I could and was pretty happy with them.  But, this doctor had some SERIOUS OPINIONS about which ones looked good on me and was pushing the bling.  The bling, people.   Just no.   Ha, ha, ha.   Really, the whole visit was hil-ar-i-ous.   I ended with a selection of the "Catherine Deneuve" line of eyewear.   My friend, with whom I had another lovely campus walk this afternoon said "Is she even still alive?  She must be so, so old."   Which, of course, made me feel even older.   Ha.   But, seriously, can't we all agree that French actresses age better than any human in the world?   My sense about French women is that they are UBER-CONFIDENT and don't really care what you think.  At all.   I like that about them.  And, then there is my total imaginary doppelgänger,  Juliette Binoche.   Remember that she is playing the part of me in the movie about my life, right?    I mean - look at her:

Clearly, that's me.  Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.   What I love, love, love about her look is that it is not "au courant."   It is just comfortably her.   She even, on occasion, looks a little messy, etc.  Have you guys seen "Chocolat"?   Oh, do it.  She is gorgeous in it.  GORGEOUS.  And, it has the most delicious scenes of chocolate making and the colors in the setting and the costumes are luscious. Oh, and also the "Red," "White," and "Blue" trilogy is amazing.  I don't know.  Maybe I just want to marry her.  :)   Since we are talking about timeless French women, here's Catherine Deneuve:

So, she's 71.  Totally not dead, friend.  And, looking like a MILLION BUCKS.  We should all look so good.   These glasses are not the ones I got, dear reader, but the shape is similar.

So, I think what I'm aspiring to is the classic French woman "je ne sais quoi" "I don't give a damn" kind of attitude about my physical self.   We all need to be aspirational, right?

Moving onto a slightly different discussion of beauty, remember when I posted (a while back) a quote from momastery.com about how beautiful women become beautiful by soaking in the beauty of other people or the things that they find in the world.   I find that a lovely thought, of course, and recently read something that reminded me (although it doesn't seem obviously connected) of this concept.  Here is an excerpt of an interview with George Saunders who I think is one of the most gifted writers currently publishing.   I recently read his latest collection of short stories (he doesn't write anything but short stories) entitled "Tenth of December" and was blown away.  

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2014/06/george-saunders-humor.html

I really liked his take on what giving "attention" to someone or somebody does for a person's compassion and fairness.    I also like his take on "compassion" and what it actually is - a much more multifaceted concept than we usually give it credit for.   Here are some quotes that I enjoyed.

"Life is too hard and complicated for a person to live above it, and the moments when this is underscored are comic. But, of course, they are also deep. Maybe the most clearly we ever see reality is when it boots us in the ass."

"In either case, it’s attention. You are paying attention to the thing, spending your time on it, which is a form of … something. Love? Respect? You’re honoring the thing with your attention and allowing it to act upon you, to change you."

"Yes, but people think of compassion as, like, kindness. The image comes to mind of some nice New Age guy bending to something with a look on his face like he’s about to cry. And I don’t think that’s it. I think of it more as a quality of openness that comes with being in a state of unusual attentiveness."

So, let's all put our attention on beautiful things, shall we?   Or better yet, let's keep our gaze on all sorts of things so that we may find the beauty in them even if it is not apparent.    And, for heaven's sake, let's all adopt the elegant and indifferent (to outside opinion) confidence of the French woman.   I've got the glasses now.   It's a start.    Thanks for reading!