conversation

Old Bag is My Purse, not My Person.

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

It’s always some super chic 20-something who says, “I love your bag,” or “That’s some fine looking leather,” or, “Where did you find your purse?”

“Thanks,” I always say with real gratitude. “I got it at the Pioneer Woman Mercantile in Pawhuska, Oklahoma.” I love the word Pawhuska, and say it right: Puh HUSS ka, and with a bit of a drawl. And so the conversation begins with a lovely young woman and I am reminded that it’s a lie that the youngsters don’t like the oldsters, that ageism should even be a word, much a less something I worry about.

Of course it exists, but life is soooo way too short to be taking note of those with so little wisdom that they don’t recognize mine. Of course those complimenary and pleasant young women may be the exception rather than the norm. But don’t I prefer an exception-al life to a norm-al (offended) life?

Absolutely! I am not getting, or losing, my joy because someone somewhere thinks I’m past it. That’s because even though my wrinkles say otherwise, I am so much younger than I was when I was 20-something (when I was always spouting off something I later regretted). On the outside I may look like my purse–in need of a little spit and polish. But inside I get younger every single day.

Why not join me?

The Art of Conversation Creates Art

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

It was a lovely morning yesterday. Seth and I tried a new LaVazza variety (falling off the wagon a bit on this aspect of Zero For Six-ing, but more on that later) on the balcony. We likened the rustling of the Aspen leaves to the feel of clean cotton sheets, the breezes in the pines and the birdsong to music.

The conversation went and wound its way here and there, and somewhere in there I had a fantastic idea–a doable, practical example of how to remind our government that indeed, they work for us. I won’t go into the particulars of the idea, because I want to talk about the power of conversation.

We’re meant to have it, and it’s meant to produce ideas, solutions, revelations. It’s meant to connect hearts and minds and put us in the creativity zone. So, if our conversations aren’t producing this magical marvel, especially when we’re talking with our adult children, we can examine ourselves.

Do we listen carefully and thoughtfully? Do we interrupt? Do we have to be right? Are we taking a parental role when our family members are not asking for that? Just as we’re extra polite and considerate in our conversations with non-family folks, are we also with our beloveds? Do we remember that sometimes hearts simply want to be heard–not to hear our opinion?

When we don’t know the answer do we simply say, “I don’t know, but I will pray for wisdom, and I will pray for you to have wisdom, and all will be well”?

It’s helpful to remember that those who talk the most and loudest are often drowning out the words of those with the deepest and best thoughts. Just in case you’re like me, and maybe are a bit chatty, it could be time to put some art into our conversation.