Grandpa Still Snowboards - How Staying Still Doesn't Allow Us to Grow

What’s the name of that restaurant? You know, the one on Irving, no, on Cicero, no, on Milwaukee? You know… the one with Baked Alaska*, it’s on the tip of my tongue…

That searching for a word, it’s called anomia. I’ve had run ins with it for a long time. I admit, a catalyst for retiring at the first chance came after sitting in meetings and feeling stupid. The times I couldn’t find the memory of the results of a previous day’s meeting, or I’d look at someone and couldn’t come up with their name, let alone their kid’s names. When anomia strikes, it erodes my self-confidence and immediately makes me think I will be in “the home” before the bananas turn yellow. 

Not so fast…. In the last few days, after truly launching my child across the country into his life after graduate work, after a year of retirement, after four years of learning to paint, and two and a half years of living on my retirement income, I’ve realized I put off focusing on my own growth and development in this next part of life. It doesn’t mean I haven’t been talking about it with whomever will listen… friends, neighbors, the Whole Foods cashier.  I typically spew the first part of my exploration like the gush from a fire hose, as the unsuspecting ask, how are you? Fine. I’m trying to figure out my life. I am done with health care, could use some money, I want a life of meaning, and painting and people, should I move? And on and on. 

It’s Wednesday and I have a wide open day, ripe for me to scratch off the items on my to-do list that extends to a second side of paper. I look forward to my still life painting class at the other end of my day that is part of my self directed curriculum on becoming an artist.  

Development as an artist is one of two successful elements I can claim on my plan to retire with intention. The other, which I may delve into more at another time, was living on my retirement income for more than a year prior to declaring a retirement date. Once I felt confident that I could exist, I set a date first in my own mind, and eventually with my employer. 

Which brings me back to today. I’m eyeing tchotchkes on a shelf I want to clear… for good, while packing my back pack for today’s attempt at a good submission for a plein air competition in Schaumburg.  I’m feeling pressure to get on with my life in the near term, and make sense of the rest of my days. Stat! Gratefully, I woke up to an email from one of my friends who’d sent a link to a TedTalk that she thought spoke to my woman’s “search for meaning.” It does. It’s by Bill Thomas, MD. a Harvard trained geriatrician who is reframing aging. I listened to the Ted Talk and intrigued, found another, more meaty presentation that got me to breathing a little easier. 

One of his messages is about anomia – the word finding issue I mentioned above.  When a young person stores a word in their brain, they don’t know a lot, and there is a lot of room to store words in their brain. Their filing system is simple, a single filing cabinet. If you live long, you have many filing cabinets, with many words, filed in different locations for different reasons. When you can’t think of a name of a restaurant or a person, it’s actually a consequence of how much you’ve stored.  

Research has shown that when people are asked to recall, young people remember the details, elders remember the gist. Elders have the store of knowledge to connect many aspects and pull on the architecture of the brain to activate and retrieve from different parts. Our brains have the power to provide a broader view of the issue. In other words, we elders have the gist of the story. In that sense, Bill Thomas jokes, “young people are neurologically disabled.”  

Yet, as a society, we don’t think in these terms. I smiled at Doctor Thomas’ concept of how we ineffectively cast “still” in our language. My Aunt Edith at 84 still drives. Grandpa still snowboards at 91… barefoot.  We are measured and somewhat revered by how we STAY the same. If we don’t stay still, we are disappeared.

Remember taking a child to the pediatrician and receiving a report in weight and height, or later talking with the child’s teachers about their maturity?   We have metrics to show change and growth from childhood, through adolescents and into adulthood. We recognize a fourteen year old who hasn’t dropped their blanky is acting inappropriately for their age. A twentysix year old still living at home…. (oops, scratch that example.)  Even with social trends like kids living longer at home, we recognize the end of the younger developmental phase, yet we don’t have a positive, recognizable phase for after adulthood. We are destined to stay still or disappear. It's a limbo, a time before death. It's not a recognized time for its own growth. For the most part, we measure peoples in terms of loss of adulthood. Dr. Thomas offers the name to this time as elderhood. And, he doesn't see it as staying still. 

I can relate… I am becoming an elder. I am done with certain things in adulthood. I am done being a slave to a work schedule. I am done with progress reviews that indicated my worth to an employer. I am done with conformity to fashion, cosmetics and other things that dictate how I must present myself. I really don’t understand cosmetic surgery, except for those days when I feel myself disappearing. I am done with raising a child… we now can have adult conversations. And, I am ready to grow. 

I am ready to reframe how I think about this time in my life. I want to create. I want to create meaning. I want to  be a successful painter- it burns me when someone asks, is this a hobby? Not really, I responded on Monday. The guys who asked followed up with, so you're making a living? Not a big one, I told him. But I am, not in money maybe, but this is big living for me.  

This morning, I am grateful to my friend who sent the link to Doctor Thomas’ talk (I encourage you to watch it) and I am grateful to him for helping me reframe my sense of self and my sense of meaning. 

Let the gist begin! 

*Community Tavern 

Cauliflower Wraps - A Paleo Adjustment for Brain Health

Since June of 2013, I have rarely swerved from regularly eating a paleo diet. In the first month, the hand and foot pain I'd endured stopped. I realized it as I unpacked for my writing workshop in Taos and saw that I didn't pack Advil. I haven't needed it since. During that time since, I lost more than 60 pounds and I have energy... every day. And, every day I am grateful that my chiropractor, who'd just completed a six month nutrition education program recommended that I try an anti-inflammatory diet. She told me, if you need a name for it, call it Paleo with no dairy, grain, sugar or legumes. A week or so later, still aching every day and every night, I committed to a week of cold turkey (so to speak) Paleo. Three years later... why would I go back?

I won't but I have made an adjustment recently. Do you have word-fiinding issues? Do you forget names of people and things that you've always known? Do you ever forget something that happened the day before? Ok, I know it's only me that this happens to, so when I learned about North Shore University Health System's Center for the Brain headed (so to speak) by Demetrius Maragonore, MD, located at Glenbrook Hospital, I made an appointment.

Fortunately, I learned after a rigorous assessment that even though this memory stuff only happens to me, it's normal and not dementia or Alzheimers or Parkinsons. Part of the process included a discussion of my exercise and nutrition. I learned I woefully under exercise, they recommend 7 days, 30 minutes of sweat. And, they increased my intake of B and D vitamins.

As for my diet, Dr. Maraganore said he only needed me to adjust a couple things. Ominously he said, "Are you willing to make a change?" I nodded yes and might have said, "sure," I don't remember. "Ok, can you drink red wine instead of white?" I love this man!!!

All other adjustments pale (so to speak) to that one, but he told me I should drink more water, three times a week, eat a combo of garlic, tomato, onion and basil for the lycopene, and add legumes. That's been the most difficult, knowing that they also have an inflammatory aspect to them.  I'm compliant, but I eat them sparingly. edamame here and there and hummus.

This recipe was created in view of Necessity is the Mother of Invention. I needed to eat the cauliflower noodles I'd made for another dish that didn't get made.

The noodles take ten minutes to prepare and an hour to bake. Once they are made and cooled, the wraps take as long as you need to slice avocado and assemble the other ingredients... a couple minutes.

Cauliflower Wraps

Cauliflower Noodles
1 Head of cauliflower shredded or chopped fine
3t Herbs - Italian seasoning
1 t salt
2 eggs

Steam the cauliflower to soft but not mushy, squeeze out any liquid. Add seasonings and eggs. If it's too hot you'll have scrambled eggs so let the cauliflower cool a bit.

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper or silicone mat. I used a slotted spoon and scooped the cauliflower mix onto the mat. Working to reduce the amount of liquid, I kept the container of cauliflower mix on an angle to let the moisture run down and I squashed the mash on the spoon to get the last drops out. Spread the mix evenly on the pan and cut dividing lines every two and a half to three inches to make lasagna-like noodles. Bake 350 degrees, 55-60 minutes. They should be browned and still soft.

I wrapped mine in the parchment paper and stored them in the fridge for a day before using them.

The Wrappings
Lemon Hummus
Avocado
Spinach
Sprouts

Spread the hummus, add three slices of avocado at one end, sprinkle sprouts on top and spinach have way down the noodle. Roll the noodle starting at the end with the avocado. I cut them in have so I had  two rolls from each noodle.

Anyone eating Paleo learns quickly that when you don't eat crackers, chips and breads, you have fewer vehicles to get other foods like guacamole, salsa and almond butter into your mouth. I get tired of eating a pile of vegetables with some meat on top. The Cauliflower Noodles make a tasty vehicle for sandwich fixings, whether hummus is schmeered or not.