I love being in my 50s. Not because of the discounts at the local feedbag buffet, but because I know and understand that as the decades pass and one is blessed to accept being mature, one really doesn't give a flyin' flip about how other people think one should be.

You might say, as noted in one poem, I'm "comfy."

Looking back a few years at the tender age of 35, I recall among many ladies of the 80's donning the title "supermom!" I worked more than one job, went to school, raised a family.
Got my master's degree, was STILL too overqualified or too dark skinned or both to get a job that would pay me for what I thought I was worth, and somehow fell into the trap that my worth was equal to my education.

Not so. There are a lot of educated fools out there who don't care about anything or anyone except themselves. I'd rather break bread with  a 12th grade average graduate who was willing to learn from successful people who cared about them than some pointed-headed magnum-cum-headache who looked down on me because they have more student loans than I have because they were afraid to take off the gloves, stare reality in the face and say "C'mon world....gimme your best shot" like Robert Kiyosaki, Bill Gates, Fred Smith (FedEx founder) and other college dropouts.

Now that I'm still a feelin' sexy 35 with the numbers reversed according to my birth certificate, I'd be crazy if I tried to do things to please other people at this point in my life. If I live to be 100 I want to be able to look back and say I've traveled all 7 continents, tax-free; that I've been able to hug people who didn't know anything about me except that I helped them in some small way that they appreciated; that my children will remember my birthday and Mother's day; that I'll treat everyone like it was a holiday season; and most of all, that I'll never forget what it feels like to be forgiven, and bestow that same gift of forgiveness on those who I feel may have wronged me for whatever reason.

Life is short. Motherhood is temporary. Friendships last as long as we can breathe. And although money can't purchase happiness it sure does a heck of a job averting misery, spreading joy to others and keeping the bill collectors in their little barbed wire cages.

Yes, I want to be rich...full of love peace and happiness as the song goes. And this guy does a pretty good job of conveying that message with his "Money Dance"....our business associate knows how to work it out!

Much love,
cynth'ya


 © 2008 cynth’ya lewis reed
all rights reserv’d 

 (Note: File link below has info from June 2006-Dec. 2007. Give the page a minute or so to load. The Nov. 1, 2007 file of Shavett as a 35 year old retired RN, nurse instructor and full time mom of 2 little boys ages 3 & 5 is  worth the wait).