Happiness runs in a circular motion. Thought is like a little boat upon the sea. Everybody is a part of everything anyway, You can have everything if you let yourself be. Happiness runs, happiness runs. 
Are you Living Your Life on Autopilot?
Posted by: Jane Jelenko | Posted in: Living Intentionally, Social/political Activism, Too Many Choices, Jane's MusingsSunday, January 20, 2008
Glory days, they pass you by. Glory days, in the wink of a young girl’s eye. Glory days, glory days.
These are the Glory Days
My husband, Bill, and I have a weekly ritual. We fill up our respective plastic pill dispensers with the myriad of white, blue, red and yellow miracle drugs that keep our body chemistries in balance. Brilliant invention, that thingamajig—it not only keeps you organized pharmacologically, but it also, very subtly, takes on the responsibility of reminding you to take your daily allotment, since your short term memory has probably faded a bit. Each day is marked, alerting you if you inadvertently missed a dose. So your only job is to remember what day it is!
One morning this week, Bill got done with this chore and said wistfully, “My pill holder is like my hour glass. Filling it every Sunday reminds me that another week has gone by.” What he left unspoken was the fact that each week seems to fly by faster than the ones before.
It hit me hard, though I hope I didn’t show it to Bill. He is older than I by 21 years and I can only imagine the time-passing speed he is experiencing, given my own sense of time compression. For me it’s not the fear of aging; it’s a fear of missing out.
When I retired, I was determined to live my life with greater intention. Sounds “New Age-y” I know, and that’s not the way my mind normally works. But I was clear about wanting to let go of the things that I did almost by rote—that took up my precious time for little or no psychic return. Instead, I wanted to choose the way in which I spent my days, looking for opportunities to engage my mind and body in ways that would feed my soul and make a difference in the lives of others.
First, I got a dog. Not just any dog, but Sasha, a Wheaton terrier mix who is my constant companion. As a road warrior management consultant for twenty-five years, I couldn’t 
allow myself the pleasure of being a mom to a dog. It wouldn’t be fair to leave a pet home alone all day—was everyone’s admonition. Happily, I crossed paths with Betsy Rosenfeld, a young professional and passionate volunteer dog rescuer. Thanks to her, I now walk with Sasha in my beautiful canyon for a mile twice a day, which has the side benefit of keeping me in shape. But that doesn’t begin to describe what joy that little guy has brought into our lives.
After pigging-out on far too many activities, I managed to whittle them down to the ones that are right for me at this stage of my life. I sit on two very challenging corporate boards, I lead a group trying to make Los Angeles a vibrant center for world class dance, I study Torah with a group of ten women who have become sisters to me, I engage in volunteer political work, and, along with one of my dearest friends, I write and speak about the journey of changing lanes.
My family gets a bigger chunk of me, and I don’t feel like I’m robbing Peter to pay Paul. I spend the time with great joy in the moments of connection to husband, children, grandchildren, mother-in-law, nieces/nephews, brother and sister. I feel very blessed.
These are the Glory Days.
