Decumulation

Decumulation - a word I had never heard before May of this year. It usually refers to the payout portion of one's pension savings. When you're working, you're a-cumulating. When you retire, you de-cumulate.

But decumulation has been on my mind since I learned it. I'm in the de-cumulating phase of my life, not just my pension!

I'm starting to let things go. Even lovely things that were gifts. Even things that were expensive. Even things I still cherish.

Not only is there no room here in this house for them, but I am acutely aware that in a limited amount of time I might be having to share a room with another old person and have one-half a closet and one set of drawers, and that'll be it for all my worldly belongings. Granted, I hope this won't happen for a number of (hopefully) healthy years! But, with Hubby being a hoarder, and the house being full of my Grandparents' stuff, and Stepkids' grandparents' stuff, and Daughter's stuff, and Hubby's stuff and Boyfriend's stuff...we're kind of packed to the gills, and could use a little breathing room!

But it's more than that on my mind lately. I've been decumulating some emotional baggage as well.

Some of the easiest feelings to let go involve failed relationships. Stuff I wish I had managed differently 30-50 years ago. See, with my mood disorder, the feelings stay fresh, like they just happened. I've been carrying around angst over poor choices for a long time, and I'm working very hard to let it go.

Harder than that though, is regret over harm I've caused. I always feel like I've just woken up and am pulling my head out of my arse and taking my first look at reality - the difference between what I was or was not thinking, and what I said and did.

Those are really hard to let go, because they were my fault, and no-one else's. I said and did hurtful things, no getting away from it. Grandpa used to say "word once spoken cannot be brought back with coach-and-six." For 30-40 years I've been trying to mentally make it better, replaying scenes where I caused someone pain, trying to change the ending. Nope, it doesn't work. I was a dick. And I can't undo it.

But I am trying to forgive myself and let it go. Because fretting over what I did in the past is only going to make me sicker, in which case I'll do something stupid again.

Hopefully I've learned from these mistakes. I can't fix them - lost friendships, relationships ruined - but I can manage not to make the same mistakes in the years I have left. I can be a better mother, friend, relative, wife.

It's very hard to forgive yourself when you were clearly in the wrong. But I must decumulate this baggage as well as the good stuff, or the weight of it will simply crush me.

A Generation Lost in the Kitchen

I got a good laugh out of this one. Kale was not in my supper bowl growing up. I think once we had Swiss Chard, but I didn't eat it. Beet tops once, also. Once was enough. I was over 25 before I was able to keep spinach down at all, even raw.

Beautiful Daughter, on the other hand, keeps encouraging me to eat Kale. And Arugula. And other unrecognizable leafy greens.

She eats this stuff - all the time! She calls it a "shake."

In MY day, a shake was a treat from Dairy Queen. It had ice cream in it, and if you were me, it had chocolate.

In HER day, a shake is based on a plant protein powder, leafy greens, some kind of fruit, ice cubes and water. It's green. It's thick.

It's revolting.

She drinks this for breakfast.

She loves it.

See, I like the IDEA of a shake for breakfast. As long as it's chocolate. Maybe fruity, but that's pushing it. Something packed full of protein that tastes like chocolate and coffee. Nice and thick! That would be my ideal breakfast shake!

I did confuse Daughter's Husband once, when I asked for a shake based on yogurt that included a raw egg. He couldn't get over the idea that an egg nog, which my Grandmother gave me for its nutritional value, could be anything other than the stuff we drink at Christmas. Wondered why I wanted to start getting drunk at breakfast. Couldn't see the point if no rum was involved!

But yogurt, fruit, milk, and a raw egg all blended together is nutritious, and tastes nowhere near as bad as this processed plant protein stuff they drink!

I must say though, that I am proud of Daughter and her Husband for trying to be healthy. They are trying. Working out at the gym, drinking this toxic green stuff, and pursuing their dreams.

I'm afraid my generation has a much more difficult time coming to terms with this plant-based-protein-gunpowder than hers does.

When my parents grew up, they were fed canned food, because the fashion at the time was to make sure food was "sterile."

In my childhood and adolescence, we learned about the dangers and evils of processed food. How canned veggies contained salt. How cereal contained sugar. How horrid chemicals that caused cancer, multiple sclerosis, and all sorts of dreadful ills were hidden within anything packaged. I learned to go to the market and buy fresh produce and fresh meat and prepare it all by hand, myself, because only then could I be sure of what was really in it.

This green gunk they drink is some of the most over-processed "food" on the planet! Plus, it tastes like mud to my ancient tastebuds. (Incidentally, my ancient tastebuds feel the same way about Ancient Grains. Keep your Quinoa, thank you very much.)

Yet I am confident that Daughter and her Husband will beat my life expectancy, and quality of life, by twenty years at least.

And that makes me feel good.