I’m learning to trust the fates, angels, God, or whatever one calls the forces that motivate life. When I rushed to the Mansion this morning for my 11 a.m. meditation class, I grabbed what I thought were my meditation reading books – Henry Nouwen and Thomas Merton.

I grabbed the wrong books.

(Above, Jennifer, a faithful attendee of my Mansion Meditation class)

Instead, I unknowingly grabbed two books by Joan Chittister, a spiritual author from Pennsylvania. They turned out to be the right books after all; the conversation they sparked was so interesting I’m going back again on Friday morning to finish it.

A blog reader sent me two of Chittister’s books month ago, but I haven’t had a chance to read them. The book I brought was called The Gift Of Years, and I couldn’t have made a better choice if I’d known what I was doing.

Chittister wrote the book for older people and people concerned about their parents and the kinds of issues that come with older age.

There couldn’t have been a better audience.

Heads were nodding, and eyes widened with every word I read.  Everyone had something to say. I decided to postpone our meditation and talk about the book.

This is a part of what I read about older people from Chitisster’s book in my Mansion Meditation Class, which I’ve had to skip for three weeks due to Covid. I was pleased to be back, and I think they were also happy I was back with Zinnia.

“Indeed, they are old and getting older by the day,” she wrote, “at least as far as calendar days go. But inside, they know themselves to be coming out of one part of life and going into another, clinging to one but unable to stop themselves from slipping into the other. And they don’t know what to think about it. Is this the end of everything they know to be good and fulfilling in life? Should they defer to the inevitable and accept their weary state? Or is it only the beginning of a new way of life?”

(Above, some of the people in my meditation class, Activity Director Bonnie English, decided to take a picture of us, turning the tables on me.)

The room just lit up when I asked for their input. We talked about what we can and can’t do; there were stories about how people see us and others about their children’s difficulties coping with their aging and problematic health.

The stories were touching and honest, and it was clear the residents were eager to talk about their lives in this simple way.

I was drawn into the conversation. I said as I approached my 75th birthday; I meditated long and hard about what these years mean and will continue to mean for me. I see aging as the end of many things and the beginning of many others.

It is not, for me, one or the other, but both. I see it as a beginning, not an end.

I believe I have a clear choice – between existing and living, and I intend to live. The conversation was so good we agreed I would come back on Friday and read from the book again and talk about it.

Then, we meditated for five minutes. I heard the deep breath intake and the quieter, softer release.

All the eyes were closed, and everyone was pleased when it was time to stop.

Almost all of them meditate daily, and they agree it helps to come and settle them and push away the fear and worry that comes with aging at times.

Three women from memory care come to every class; they often ask about it and remember it and want to come.

They know exactly what I am saying, participate quietly and fully. From our classes, I would have no idea they have memory issues. I’m not sure what to make of that.

After our class Friday, we are all going to the Mansion Circus the activity staff is putting on in the Mansion’s Great Room – we bought the supplies and decorations on our last Mansion Wish List; thank you. I have to rush out and find more animal crackers, and I ordered a giant bear on Amazon to be the grand prize for the winner of the most contests and games.

Preparations for Friday’s circus are underway above. See what you did.

The Army Of Good bought the decorations and prizes on the last Wish List and almost every day since. I’ve got to get my hands on white baseball caps as a prize for some of the men. They can paint them and decorate them any way they wish.