Feeling Better

I decided I’d feel much better about myself today if I’d posted to my blog before I went to my swim class. My Thursday and Friday swim classes with the women I most affectionately call “my old ladies” are the only real moments of structure in my life.
I love them because they inspire me. They show up weekly, as their schedules permit, and I love that they have these busy lives even though they could just sit around being grandmas. They’ve taught me just how skin deep beauty really is. That our inperfections (remember we’re in bathing suits) are as beautiful, natural and human as what we might laughingly refer to as our perfections. They remind me of my grandmas. Only since I don’t officially belong to them, I get a degree of candor about their lives that my grandmas would never reveal to me. Our naked steamroom talks are like fellowship meetings among women who’ve lived (and live) active productive lives. Their reassurance of me finding what I’m looking for in this life is comforting because I can trust their collective “don’t worry about that sweetie, you have plenty of time”. They have collectively been all over the world and still travel every summer. They give me recipes and tell me about the special days and activities they still share with their girlfriends. They tell me about meeting their husbands and their grandchildren’s triumphs and problems. Most importantly to me, they see me as one of their own. But as a young woman with infinite possibilities who is taking advantage of life. They know my money woes are temporary although I feel like it’s the end of the world sometimes. Coupled with my own experience, I know it’s not the end of the world. They also want me to buy property. To go to jazz clubs to find a boyfriend- a jazz musician preferably (but been there- done that). To continue to travel and be free. I just love them. And now I’m on my way to go work off this ass of mine in the second of the 2 intense aqua-aerobic workouts of the week. I’m still taking aspirin from yesterdays. And they move. I’m sweating in the pool. But I know if they can do it, I can too. When I began going about a year and a half ago, I was gonna chicken out. I hadn’t been in a pool outside of vacation splashings for years. That’s when Miss Ruth said “well you’re here now, go put your toe in the water. If you don’t like it- take a nice steam.” A year and a half later, that’s what I know tell myself about everything I get scared about.
It also doesn’t hurt that comparatively I look like, to quote Miss Victoria “a Playboy Bunny”. Nice.

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