To Plan Or Not To Plan

60: (July 2026)

It is a joyful thing to create something with a bunch of people whom you love. Such is the case with a children’s song I wrote, which was inspired by my grandchildren, sung by my niece Alex, recorded and sound-mixed by my daughter Bridget, and brought to life in video by my daughter Molly: a family collaboration of many hearts and creative spirits. This silly song, “I Like Blue,” doesn’t have a deep message, nor is it educational, but it IS fun!

Who knew that three years into official retirement from full-time work I would be writing children’s songs and even performing them in public with my niece? Sometimes it isn’t worth the effort to try to plan things; allowing yourself to go with the flow of life’s currents can take you to unexpected places filled with enchanting surprises.

Case in point, I didn’t plan to write children’s songs, but found that spending time with our grandchildren generated a wellspring of tunes and lyrics. I hadn’t planned to have my out-of-state niece move in with us, but when she asked to move into the room over the garage last year, my husband and I were happy to say yes; who knew that the little girl who sang all the Disney songs by heart now has a voice like a lark and is also something of a child magnet? I could never have planned for my daughter Bridget to become a sound engineer who would one day record Alex and me (on the piano) in our living room and then sound-mix our songs back at her own home in Berlin, Germany. And no planning could have prepared me for the surprise Mother’s Day gift my daughter Molly gave me of a fully animated video she created to go with one of my songs.

The one thing I did at least loosely plan for several years ago was to retire. That decision made room for these unplanned elements to meander into my life, gently merging together to form a collaboration of love and creativity. Maybe the key is to plan just enough to give your life some necessary structure, but not so much that it stifles improvisation along the way. And perhaps not to take life too seriously . . .

40: (July 2006)

Women have historically been weavers of one sort or another, relentlessly weaving threads to make cloth, knitting strands of wool to make clothing, even braiding scraps of fabric to make rugs. Women in their 40s and 50s weave threads of another sort—the threads of their lives—picking up various strands to see what new forms can be made from them.

Most of us are done parenting very young children. Many, like me, had left careers in order to be home for the children and are pondering what career path makes the most sense at this stage of life. But others, who continued to work outside the home, also seem to be contemplating new careers or alternate paths. The most striking thing to me has been how the seemingly unrelated aspects of our lives manage to intertwine, creating something more complex and interesting than was possible 20 years ago. Life experience brings color, texture, and occasionally, bold new patterns.

I love talking with the former teacher who was also a nurse, now embarking on yet another new career as a peace activist. Or the former vice president of media sales who is starting her own design company after going back to school to study this first love. Or the artist, educator, and spiritual seeker who is incubating a book, which will give the world the benefit of all the life lessons and wisdom that she’s learned. The peace activist will do well precisely because she can draw from her years of teaching, nursing, and multiple volunteer activities. The designer will succeed because she will use her business acumen to form a platform for her creative pursuits. The artist can write her book because she can cull her insights from years of testing her theories and methods in real life situations. The different experiences from each woman’s past inform and strengthen her current effort.

Women, notoriously good at multi-tasking, begin to see this reflected in the very substance of their lives, as a rich multi-dimensionality emerges around the forties and beyond. With this comes a certain amount of exploration, as well. For those like myself, who are beginning to have more time after spending many years devoted to the job of parenting, figuring out which strands to pick up, which ones to leave behind, and how to weave everything together takes time, creativity, energy, and sometimes a bit of courage.

I was a social worker prior to becoming a mother, published a book shortly after my first child was born, and then mothered full-time while doing a little writing and music on the side. Now, I find myself combining several of these interests as I work on a research and writing project for a documentary filmmaker whose films focus on social causes. It is a venue I had never given thought to until recently, yet the work suits me very well. It is exciting to see how the individual strands of our lives can be woven into patterns wholly new and unexpected.

As women, we are intimately connected to the creative process, whether we have borne children or not. In our 40s, 50s, and beyond we are able to gather the parts of our own selves together in order to weave something much stronger and more vibrant than any one thread can ever be. Image how colorful we’ll all be in our 90s!

60-40:

In the 20 years since I wrote that 2006 reflection, I had an interesting, at times terrifying, but ultimately very satisfying career in fundraising, public relations, and marketing for several nonprofits, a university, and a retail company. I had no idea back then where the future would take me, just as I have no idea now, but I am excited to experience life unfold. So far, the journey has been one heck of a great ride!