You: Richer and Richer

In times such as these, this post's title might seem curious but I want you to deeply inspect your portfolio. Instead of dollars and cents (or gold and silver), examine the intangibles that either elicit the feeling that you've hit a home run and even the ones that make you feel you've struck out. I started with the repeats: the neighbor with whom warm greetings are exchanged several times weekly or hearing the latest from an ardent wildlife conservationist at the nearby market. Such interactions--and I'd wager that you have a slew of your own--are crown jewels to be polished but can be so easily undervalued. Another asset is the magic, the medicine that is comedy. When coffee shop banter fails to produce laughter, there are books and electronic media to deliver the goods. And if you're anything like me you require different types at different times, so like any investment perusal, patience is in order to find your personal blue chip. Having begun with what serves a purpose you advance to that which no longer does: the underperforming stock all gussied up as a stagnating relationship or the enduring bad habit. If it can be salvaged/revamped, go for it. If not, there's always the recycling bin so the energy can be invested elsewhere. Clearly these assets--interactions, comedy, and the stock destined to be edited out--are anything but intangible and bear real time fruit, so take stock, rather take heart that you're richer than you think.


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Read This Blog and Live to 100!

Let me begin with my apologies if you happened to get a cavity reading the previous entry. Love is clearly having its way with me but longevity is my current watchword. While recently running errands, I found it dizzying how often terms like antioxidants and younger were emboldened and capitalized. It seems the anti-aging craze gripping the world of retail could be hobbled, or rather coupled with one phrase: location, location, location. I'm referring to the Blue Zones (a designation coined by writer Dan Buettner), areas renown for playing host to large numbers of centenarians due to various environmental advantages and lifestyles. From the tropical Nicoya Peninsula of Costa Rica to the islands of Okinawa, Japan and Sardinia, Italy, a passport could be your ticket to staving off the ravages of time. And if the mention of any of these regions whets your whistle for travel or life abroad--and blue's not exactly your color--consider the "green zones." Touted as relatively affordable hubs for expatriates, Boquete (Panama), Le Marche (Italy), Puerto Vallarta (Mexico), Cascais (Portugal), and the Languedoc-Rousillon region of southern France collectively boast thousands of Americans as renters and homeowners.
So many of us have lives that will not allow for such a relocation or even extended stays at any of the aforementioned but I have a few ideas to slow the sands the time. Combine the travel suggestions--or just start by making a list of places you'd love to visit--then add the age-defying cosmetic of your choice, stir, eat something green, and most importantly, bookmark this hotspot; your "blue URL"... after all, location is key!


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A Cobweb Conspiracy

For anyone wondering about my brief hiatus, please blame it on my nascent meditation practice. It led me to reconsider my approach to a great many things and I actually "beat the heat" this year, or rather embraced it--sort of. Instead of withering in what still strikes me as a caldera carved by this clime's summer, I decided to get in on some of the smoldering. In other words, I snared a beau and he's quickly bypassing every firewall I've erected. And that's fine by me because those firewalls now appear to be more like cobwebs collecting dust and obscuring the loveliness of life. His seeming guilelessness initially set off alarm bells as though I was being goaded to eventual slaughter. The guillotine eventually met its fodder and it turned out to be the imagination I usually invest turning frogs into princes. Thus my internal software has undergone yet another upgrade and I find myself less and less taken aback to find that my prince is just a prince. Like so many things that go bump in the night, the conspiracy was of my making; walls and webs meant to protect me multiplied any time I met a suitor exhibiting the slightest hint of pretense. But they became an eyesore and when I happened upon a man that exudes forthrightness, I could see how the barriers fenced out trust as well. As gusts whisk them into obsolescence (and bring wondrous autumn within spitting distance), I wonder if change is in the air because Portugal is doing it too, blowing out its old energy policy with vast wind farms. Time will tell but for me, I bid a fond farewell to distrust and window dressing while I turn my attention to thoughts of apple-picking with my imperfectly perfect beau.


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