The first truly winter snow of the season , earlier in January, caused me to miss an appointment and reschedule several days of plans as I was confronted with yet another after-effect of this year’s wildfire (not the big one that consumed most of northeastern NM last year but the much smaller one that did in about ten of us who had been only slightly singed the first time around) in that my four wheel drive Envoy was crisped and I have not yet been able to replace it. I am grateful to have friends who enabled the rescheduling, and I did appreciate the gift of a quiet couple days at home.
The rebuilding process has been arduous – delay after delay, poor or no communication as to why, piles of building materials blocking the entrance to my house and creating what has felt like a fiercely threatening fall hazard for my achy body. Thankfully the worst of that danger has been removed as some of the materials just went into a new carport – still unfinished but of some partial use protecting my car these winter days.
Taught to look for useful “takeaway” lessons in the challenges life throws at me, I find I am learning to deepen my patience and to become more clear about when to just let things be and when to push against what feels truly wrongful. In that context, I was much taken with a parable I encountered in Forgive for Good, by Dr. Fred Luskin. It is not long, so rather than summarize, I am copying it out here.
“A long time ago a village had a saint living near it. That saint walked among the hills and one day came upon a rattlesnake lying in the grass. The snake lunged with its fangs bared and made to bite the holy man. The saint smiled, and the snake was stopped by his kindness and love. The saint spoke to the rattler and asked the snake to give up biting the village’s children. He said in that way the snake would be better liked and cause less harm.
Because of the power the holy man possessed, the snake agreed to stop biting. The next week the saint walked by the same spot and saw the snake on the ground lying in a pool of its own blood. The snake used what little strength it had to admonish the saint for almost killing him. “Look what happened to me when I took your advice. I am a bloody mess. Look what happened to me when I tried to be nice and not bite, and now everyone is trying to hurt me.” The saint looked at the snake, smiled and said “I never told you not to hiss.”
I would say that the big lesson for me these past 8 months, and ongoing, is knowing when to stay quiet, and when to hiss.
A parallel ongoing lesson has to do with managing one symptom of a recently diagnosed autoimmune disorder. It causes pain but that is fairly well under control. The unpredictable deep fatigue is not. I am still sorting out how much exhaustion comes from overdoing physical activity, how much is my body’s response to weather changes (barometer body), what arises from digestion issues that the new disorder has exacerbated, and what comes from stress. On a truly bad day, I know that all four are contributing. I have learned my physical limitations, and am beginning to understand the digestion dynamics. I can do nothing about the weather – which leaves stress as the main uncontrolled variable.
Needless to say, managing a major restoration of my home is stressful. No less so is the task of letting go of a lifetime of being a planner and organizer, and instead to “go with the flow” as weather fluctuations dictate my portion of energy for any given day. Slowly I seem to be learning to sort the absolute necessities out from the list of “want to’s”, to recognize when my energy is waning, and to judge if I can take a break and resume, or need to quickly finish the few mandatory items and postpone everything else. Slowly I am learning to hear the wise inner voice that gives flawless directions for how to negotiate each day. And happily I can hear in myself the excellent indicator of impending energy collapse – nearly constant hissing.
Next step? Hear and follow the flawless directions, obviating the need to hiss.

Why I Resist Change
October 11, 2023Three AM is not the best time to be awake, when a good night’s sleep is needed in order to have the energy for the next busy day. But three AM is when, on some nights, my inner self alerts my mind to what it is misperceiving, or not giving sufficient attention to, with subsequent unaddressed emotional stress further depleting my already age-limited energy. My most recent three AM wakening first brought out a well of anger at banks for forcing abandonment of payment by check, through outrageous fees for using checking accounts as they were originally designed to be used – to pay monthly bills, for non-local purchases, and daily expenses when carrying much cash is putting oneself at risk.
Apparently we are now supposed to set all regular payments as automatic withdrawals from an account. I have already experienced the humongous hassle of trying to stop one of those when it is no longer appropriate, and swore I would not go that route again for anything less than a gun to my head. A few current monthly expenses are paid by direct withdrawal, but only as I initiate them each month – nothing automatic. And every time I do provide account information online I cringe, too aware of the risks from hacking, fraud and phishing that we are constantly warned to be alert for.
So what is left? Constant use of a credit card – while monitoring the totals so it can be paid off in full each month, obviating fees. That carries some risk, however – in that the issuer can put a hold on the card at any time, if they suspect there may be a fraudulent charge, and apparently there is no requirement that they promptly notify the legitimate card holder of the fraud alert hold. I was left stranded overseas, my card refused, in one such case. It took three days of long distance calls to get the hold released. And just recently a similar silent hold prevented local withdrawal of cash from an account, again without any notice to me.
We older people are persistently urged to “keep up with the times” as technological “advances” flood our lives. This older person appreciates some of the benefits of interconnectivity, and as a writer I most certainly appreciate the ease of editing and rewriting online, compared to using the typewriter with which I began. Not all the changes and supposed helpers that change my words or think they know better than I do what I am trying to say and how I wish to express it. I still turn off every autocorrect that I can. My grammar remains far superior to that which is programmed into current software.
What I don’t appreciate, and I think gives rise to the misperception that older people are resistant to change, is the present conviction that change is always positive. Nope, sorry. Especially not when the changes are rooted in a serious shift in ethos, values and worldview.
I am far from alone in pointing to major changes in how politicians, pundits, the press and the now fashionable “influencers” present themselves, and their perception of what matters – or should matter – to the rest of us. If I were given the right to name the current period of time I would call it the era of personality cultism. How many followers can I collect, in order to sell their information to advertisers and thereby support myself without having to work for someone else? How do I acquire power to use as I see fit, without regard to the good of others, not even that of my constituents (Mr. Manchin)? How loudly can I scapegoat, point fingers, deflect blame, vilify and generally disrespect anyone who doesn’t bow at my feet? How high can I raise narcissism as a virtue, making it the norm rather than an aberration?
In company with many elders, I resist change when it goes so dramatically against the values I have lived by – that respect and a following are to be earned by honest conduct, thoughtful engagement, respectful listening to different viewpoints, and the search for collective wellbeing. I resist the marketing of absolutely everything, and the abandonment of a belief that not everything has a price. If that makes me a “stodgy old fogey” so be it. I suspect I am still in quite good company, though I accept that the current ethos, especially online, deprives me of the opportunity to find and connect with most of that company.
Would that we had louder voices, more stamina and energy to make our presence, our values and our concerns not just heard but listened to! With awareness that the years ahead of us to act and perhaps make a difference are rapidly diminishing, it is difficult not to despair. If all I can do now is stand firm in my own life, for what I perceive is right, that is what I must do.
So bank be advised – if you won’t let me write checks, I will close my account and go elsewhere!
Tags:aging, Banks, lessons, self-acceptance
Posted in Living and Learning, Social Commentary, technology | 1 Comment »