Author: Margaret Simeone

Pete, the ball-buster, humor, and the gratitude dance

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My inspiration for this article came from my friend, Candace, who responded to my last post about my husband’s silliness. She’s the one who sent me this picture of the gorillas and said it was of two females enjoying a silly secret that only the two of them understand. She knows laughter is the best medicine. It is my friend, Pete, however, who is responsible for me writing this. He laid out a ball-buster project for me and I reluctantly agreed to do it. Ball-buster is defined as an arduous task. Ballbuster, on the other hand, is a person who is relentlessly aggressive, intimidating, or domineering. See the difference? Pete is definitely not the latter. But he does hold my feet to the fire. He knows I can procrastinate and challenged me to write four articles in April. Make them spontaneous and short and just get them out there. Then write four more in May. One must be a video of you talking. Good grief! My coach had suggested the same video assignment, but I knew Pete wasn’t going …

More silliness, less stress

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We were on the water last week, finishing our rowing drills in the San Francisco Bay, when our coach announced that we were about to compete in a practice race for the first time. Our novice team had been learning the basics of rowing for the last six months, but it was just in the last month that we had managed to put all eight oars in the water at the same time, at least for several strokes. Some teammates were away for the holiday weekend and with only seven people present, our coach joined us in the stroke seat, setting the pace. His presence eased my mind as we got ready to row against a more experienced team. Their coach pulled up in the launch ready to start the race. There was no time to be nervous. She raised her megaphone. Attention! Row! We lost the first 500 meter race, and then were told that another one was about to start. We would rally to win the next four races and pumped ourselves up …

Don’t Wait for the Opportunity

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It only took the first gathering of our 8-woman group, called the Hive, and a follow-on conversation with my assigned buddy, Kim, for the magic to appear. I call it magic, but I know that it’s a proven process that begins when I feel energy start to move up and down my legs. That’s always an indication to me that my heart is opening and I’m on the right path. The intent of the Hive is to help each other emerge in areas of our lives where we want to expand. In philosophy, science, and art, emergence is a phenomenon whereby larger entities arise through interactions with smaller or simpler entities. The Hive has already shown me that this emergence phenomenon really works! We started with Kim sharing her story. As I listened and reflected her feelings, and then shared my story, I was aware of how the topic of aging was present in both. Then when Kim so skillfully captured the essence of what I said, I was amazed. She admitted that she has a …

Women’s March uncovers disturbing memories

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Long before there was growing publicity and daily social media posts about the Women’s March in January of this year, I knew I would be flying from San Francisco to Washington, DC to participate. I couldn’t be silent when our president-elect’s rhetoric was threatening our basic human rights. Daily news reports about his references to women, immigrants, race, religions, and our environment left me feeling frustrated and angry. What I did not fully appreciate until I arrived at the March on January 21st, however, was the impact of Trump’s sexist comments on my psyche. It’s taken me almost 5 months to write this post and now the reality of this administration is more surreal than I could have ever imagined at the beginning of the year. We arrived at the Huntington Metro Station in Northern Virginia to join the March after being told that if we drove to the beginning of the line there would be available seats. When the train slowed down at each station to pass the throngs of waiting passengers, we only saw smiling, cheering crowds. Everyone looked thrilled to be …

Traveling in transition

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As the door closed for takeoff on the 7am flight from Washington DC to San Francisco last Wednesday, I felt an almost instantaneous letdown. The stress of moving two households, mine and my mother’s, while helping her adjust to the idea of a new living arrangement after almost 55 years in our family home, has left me depleted. When I arrived at my California destination last week feeling mentally and physically exhausted, I looked out the window of the home where I’m staying and saw the white roses blooming in the backyard. The mountains were outlined against the bright blue sky and I sensed this was the balm I needed. What a welcome respite during my continuing transition from one coast to the other. I know how lucky I am to have the wherewithal to travel back and forth. I will leave again next month to help my mom prepare to move into her “710 condo,” as we call her new independent living facility. We’ve created a Pinterest account to look at the rooms and furniture that we both love. It helps us stay focused on creating a new and, what I hope …

Trust the unimaginable to create the life you want

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During March 2016, my daughter suffered a heart attack from a spontaneous coronary artery dissection (SCAD). We learned that it is a very rare condition that can occur in postpartum women with fluctuating hormones. It happened just one day after coming home from the hospital with her newborn son. We were already grieving from the loss of my husband, her father, who had died from heart failure just 4 months before. Feeling desperate, I briefly worried about how they would take care of their new baby. In my old life, the story I would have concocted about a husband, his daughter, and their hearts would have sent me into a tailspin, but I remembered my improbable story and it saved me. For much of my adult life, work had been my primary focus. I’d lose track of time finishing some project or getting ready for a presentation. Our daughter heard her father say more than once, “Let’s call your mom at work. She should be home by now.” It wasn’t that I was passionate about …

How aliens reminded me about the synchronicity of life

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I’ve never thought of myself as a science fiction enthusiast, although I’ve loved movies like Star Wars, The Martian, and Inception, but after a quick decision to walk into a showing of Arrival, the 2016 Oscar nominated film, I now realize that I am a fan of the genre. Amy Adams stars in this science fiction story about the emergence of a linguist who learns how to communicate with extraterrestrials. After they descend on planet earth, their message of hope is ignored by those convinced that the aliens have arrived to destroy their world. Adams’ character discovers their benevolent mission, but cannot convince her team, much less the rest of the world, that these visitors pose no threat. With the alien’s help, she shifts her perception of time and experiences the entirety of her life in a single moment. I watched as she emerged from her melancholy to realize that the journey was much more than the end destination. I enjoyed the movie, but after reading some of the negative, even hateful reviews online, I wondered if this polarizing film would get in the way of my story. Then three things happened within hours of each other that helped me decide: A friend encouraged me …

Finding happiness again

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Despite this grainy picture that was taken a decade ago at a makeshift bar in Gettysburg, the memory of the laughing and silliness still resonates with me after all these years. I was with two of my teammates at an offsite gathering when we took a break from our studies. I don’t remember what we were laughing about, but I can feel the pure lightheartedness of that evening. Finding this picture reminded me of something I had forgotten: how important it is to have fun. For the past few years, my life has been tumultuous and sad. My husband and I believed he would overcome his long term health issues, and we worked hard to find solutions for his failing heart. When he died over a year ago, I felt the most intense sadness I’ve ever felt. Yet, in the midst of my sorrow, I could feel happy. It didn’t happen quickly, but it has begun. When we feel invincible, there is an illusion of foreverness. This is the way it should be when we are young, and perhaps even later in life, living …

5 things my son taught me about life

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Our children teach us things everyday, whether it’s in a quick comment, a poignant conversation, or watching their behavior over time. If we’re open to these lessons, we can be inspired to change our perception, sometimes even shedding a long-held belief. I recently wrote about my daughter and her career.  https://glass-full.me/2016/12/14/5-lessons-i-learned-about-finding-your-dream-career/ I now focus on the lessons I have learned from my son, Tom. Less than 3 years separated our children. She was the eldest and he the younger brother. There are reasons why firstborns are expected to succeed at whatever the family values the most, while the free-spirited youngest is given the latitude to take risks. The first child gets the parent’s undivided attention; the last child gets more leniency and less caution. Temperaments can override the stereotypical birth order, but our family seems to have followed the classic model. At a very early age, Tom marched to the creative beat of his own drum. When his pre-school daycare provider, a puritanical task master, expressed dismay about Tom’s hearing problem, we discovered he was just ignoring her constant reprimands. He didn’t blindly follow authority figures. In elementary school, when many of the other boys were playing football, Tom and …

5 lessons my daughter taught me about a dream career

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Last week, our daughter posted a video on Facebook that reached over 9,000 views in two days.   Claire was the main author of the first study of its kind on marine mammals. She and her colleagues at The Marine Mammal Center found that a slow-release antibiotic gel is effective in healing sea lions whose eyes have been injured by human-made problems like oil spills. She found a career that brings real meaning to her life. Her love of animals started very early. It didn’t matter if it was a prairie dog, rabbit, sea otter, dachshund, or ibis; she was smitten. She’d cross the street to talk to a dog, bring strays home, and take care of the classroom rodent on the weekends. She convinced us to get a family dog, two guinea pigs, and even a dozen mice, for a short period of time. When the beloved palpation dog in vet school was about to be euthanized, she adopted him. She is now a wildlife medicine veterinarian, a career that was influenced and nurtured by her father. Long before the Discovery Channel and Animal Planet, they watched shows like Mutual of Omaha’s …