Back in the Saddle Again-- This phone addicted optimist's attempt to stop the scroll and pick up the pen

It’s a confusing time to be an eternal optimist. Remaining too optimistic about the state of the world these days can make you look like a real big dummy or at the very least, a non-critical thinker.

I’m generally an upbeat lady but trust me, I’m concerned plenty. I’m concerned about a narcissistic lunatic running the show, an unnecessary war, gas prices, the Epstein files, kids getting addicted to screens, gun violence, AI putting everyone out of work, ICE raids, food insecurity, etc etc. I don’t need to tell you what people are worried about. There are mentions of it everywhere, all the time.

What do I do about all this? Volunteer? Develop a campaign? Protest? Relentlessly call my congressperson?

No dummy! I scroll on my phone! Scrolling is awesome. It requires no brainpower, no willpower, no purchasing power (Until i get sucked into buying something I didn’t need, with money I should be saving for skinless chicken breast which now costs $5 a pound at my local grocery and then I gotta buy free range organic or expose myself to higher risks of antibiotic-resistant bacteria, potential contamination due to crowded farming conditions and residues from pesticides or synthetic chemicals which means I’m now paying like 22 bucks for a pack of four. Like I said, it’s tough times.

Scrolling Instagram temporarily distracts me from that truth. I love that scrolling can be performed anywhere, at any time, with everyone or no one around. I can do it while I’m eating. I can do it between work tasks. I can do it instead of exercising, writing, reading, making my bed, sharing lunch with a friend, romancing my husband, calling my mother. It can replace those activities we did as kids in the 80s that sound boring but are actually incredible like lying on your back and noticing clouds drift or watching the wind blow leaves off a tree.

One of the major problems with trying to kick an Instagram habit is that people are hilarious! There’s so much fun stuff on my phone, posted by individuals I will never meet but who I’ve grown attached to observing from a comfortable distance. I find people so entertaining, and what’s the harm in watching a little entertainment every 15 minutes? Plus there’s short, blinking videos featuring recipes and personal training tips and restaurant recommendations and travel suggestions and the thing that really sucks me in—Threads—where I get not only bonus news content, but everyone and their mother’s opinions about the content of the news.

When I’m feeling my worst, scrolling threads and reels keeps me there. When I’m tired and cranky, it temporarily soothes those annoying feelings then circles back and enhances them. It’s altered my brain with its unique ability to completely capture my attention before blowing it to smithereens. It’s truly a marvel of technology. The coolest thing about farting around on social media is that IT NEVER ENDS. It’s literally a non-stop stream of endless material with which to simultaneously distract from and enhance my existential anxiety and sense of impending doom.

But today I began the withdrawal process. I must preserve my brain! It used to work much better. I’m not going cold turkey. It won’t work. I need a harm reduction strategy. I enjoy posting vacation photos and the occasional blooming tree, mostly for my own ability to look back at a digital photo album. And for some reason I still need everyone to know I go walking in Central Park once or twice a week. But I blocked Threads on instagram and vowed to use the app only on my laptop to reduce time scrolling reels, my true kryptonite. Next up— Reddit! I still plan to be an informed citizen because that’s very important, but I’m sticking to credible news sources. I’ve cut the noise. I’m firing the peanut gallery.

I used to write from 5am-8am every day. I woke up excited, calm and clear. It’s been years since I had that kind of focus and whether it’s a combination of tech addiction and perimenopausal brain fog, I’m not sure, but I have to find the remedy. I’m also really tired of reading about impending doom. When I’m in a writing habit, I start noticing things in my environment more and most of them are good. That’s the direction I want to move in.

It’s cherry blossom season in NYC. This is the street where my office is, and what a treat it is to catch these beauties before a day of work.

Plants brightening up bodega street corners…

I was certain that the rough winter killed these trusty perennials, but after this week’s heat wave— signs of life!!

So yesterday afternoon I left my phone in the living room and went outside to write, my first attempt in about 9 months. I had to will myself not to open IG on my laptop when I hit a blank, but I did it. I’m not alerting friends on Facebook or Instagram of my attempt to pick up my old favorite hobby. This time it’s between me and my brain, which obviously needs a reset.

In the quiet, I could finally hear myself think. I heard the New York City sirens and my neighbor’s yappy dog. I heard the ice cream truck make its first pass of the season. AC units clicking into life. Wind chimes. A baby’s cry. It was so quiet I actually heard the goddamn breeze.

Now that’s entertainment.

Holiday Gift Guide for the Perimenopausal Woman

I'll be honest and admit my least favorite part of ye olde yuletide is the gift exchange. I know! So Scroogey, right? I'm delighted to gift the kiddies but adult gift exchanges stress me out. Frankly, I'm happier just spending one jolly day eating and laughing with my favorite people in lieu of three crazy weeks during the busiest season of my work year ordering stuff and shopping in crowded places. 

I've also seen too many documentaries on textile and plastic pollution around the world and the last thing I want to deal with is unnecessary stuff. My heart is big but my house is tiny, so my personal favorite presents are things that don't stick around like Whole Food gift cards, bottles of olive oil and cookbooks which I'll always find space for. Beyond that a wee holiday wink and warm hug will suffice. 

I'm also a big fan of sharing experiences over presents. Am I alone here? Anyone else want to start a revolution? Save your cash buying me another scarf; let's get our nails done together in January!

HOWEVER if a physical gift is definitely on the docket, here's a list of things the perimenopausal women in your life actually need.

Ready, Santa? Let's go shopping. 

1) Magnifying Bookmark

I've been near-sighted with astigmatism since age 11 or 12 and my vision is so bad that leaving the house without corrective lenses would actually be pretty dangerous. My late-90s college apartment had a long wall of mirrored closets and every time I woke in the middle of the night, it'd take my groggy brain a few seconds to realize the shadowy figure in the mirror was me.  

Now I'm 47 and reading tiny text makes my head hurt too. After a humbling experience fumbling around Walgreens' reading glasses carousel, I found these magnifying sheets and bookmarks on Amazon and can't wait to bring them to some chic, dimly-lit restaurant so I can show those trendy 20-somethings what's coming for them someday. Slip this sucker into her stocking to pump up the fonts and her quality of life.

2) Cream. Just any and every type of cream

Your girl's parched-- time to throw some moisture at the problem. I'm not convinced that fancy or expensive is better or necessary. I'm a fan of simple things like almond oil, Weleda and products from my local Japanese convenience store. Along the same lines, consider restocking her favorite sunscreen. My favorites are La Roche Posay and Supergoop Glow Screen. The $8 Supergoop dupe from Trader Joe's is also pretty good.

Advanced shoppers may go for the odd beef tallow face cream I keep getting Instagram ads for. Not suitable for vegetarians or women who'd rather not smell like 5 Guys. I also read on reddit that chicks my age are putting estrogen cream on their faces. Do with that information what you will. 

3) Disposable Underwear leaving zero leaks/ zero odors

When I was 13 and squeamishly coming to terms with my quickly changing body, I would have rather perished on the spot than discuss my menstrual flow with girlfriends. Oh how the tides have turned, because in my late 40s, not only am I no longer shy talking about my period but it has somehow become one of my favorite topics. Recently, one of my fellow heavy-flow sisters (who will remain nameless) passed along a recommendation that will haunt me long past New Year's. 

4) A veritable lending library of menopause education books

All hail the queens leading the charge today, providing the health information our mothers and grandmothers deserved access to. My Texas hometown icon Dr. Mary Claire Haver's The New Menopause and The Galveston Diet are definitely on my wish list. Other books women my age might enjoy seeing under the tree include The Menopause Manifesto by Dr. Jen Gunter and The Menopause Brain by Lisa Mosconi.

5) An enormous cache of vitamins and supplements

This can involve all or some of the following:

Black cohosh, evening primrose, vitamin D, vitamin B12, magnesium glycinate, magnesium citrate, magnesium chloride, magnesium L-threonate, green tea, cranberry juice, collagen peptides, Red Clover, Omega 3 fatty acids, calcium, probiotics, prebiotics, antibiotics, ginseng, wild yam, flaxseed, maca, St. John's Wort, Ashwaganda, Theanine, turmeric, creatine and a fiber supplement

Dear God, it's not that hard to figure this out... I don't know why you're making it so complicated. 

6) A sleep aid--something that'll really knock her ass out

Do some research here--I'm not gonna advise on this one. But honestly people of all ages would likely be thrilled if you just tossed a variety of gummies in their stocking like medicinal confetti.

And if the Calm company feels compelled to send me a family-sized jar of these, I certainly wouldn't kick them out of bed.

7) Lean protein sources, organized Jenga-style in the fridge, with the following note:

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Twelve cans of tuna,
Eleven skinless chickens,

Nine turkey burgers,

Eight cups of lentils,

Seven egg-white omelettes,

Six boneless pork loins,

Fiiiive tins of sardineeeeessss

Four hard-boiled eggs,

Three beef kebabs,

Two pounds of salmon

and some low-fat cottage cheese

8) And last (but never least)... Potatoes. Any preparation method

Would you not agree that potatoes make everyone happy? This is a bulletproof suggestion and I hope you take it

Happy Holidays, y'all!

Don't forget to slap a weighted vest on your gal and take a walk after your holiday dinner to help regulate blood sugar levels by allowing her muscles to absorb glucose from her bloodstream more efficiently, potentially preventing spikes and crashes, while also aiding digestion by stimulating the movement of food through her digestive system.

It's Election Week in the United States and We're All Feeling Great!

Well, it's the day before the U.S. presidential election and everyone's feeling forking fantastic. Tension is at an all time low and you can feel the ease in the air. It'll be really nice when the whole thing's good and done Tuesday night so we can all celebrate and move into our bright new future as a united nation. Maybe I'll invite neighbors over for homemade apple pie.

I've never been the greatest at discussing politics, so as part of my midlife personal improvement plan, I've been on a journey to better inform myself. I use the term "inform myself" broadly here, as I'm often still astounded by how much I still don't know at 47. My LIST OF THINGS I DO NOT KNOW is long, diverse in scope and should keep me pretty busy till my dying days. When I'm 87, I plan to sit around my local pizza shop boring my friends with juicy facts about the Habsburg Empire and tales from Yoruba mythology until a cute 20-something interrupts to compliment my expertly applied eyeshadow. I'll put down my slice and say, "Thank you, dear! I finally got the hang of it!"

As part of this self-improvement plan, I picked up a book last year titled "Concise History of the World" and read it cover to cover since my history education has always felt deficient and I needed my reintroduction to be synoptic and digestible. National Geographic published it in 2004 so the last 20 years remain a mystery even though I was alive to see them. I ransacked this book with sticky notes, reminding myself to add certain events to my neverending LIST OF THINGS I DO NOT KNOW. 

I'll tell you what I do know after reading that book. People have been doing barbaric, inhumane things to one another since the literal dawn of time. Maybe I don't even need to read National Geographic's abridged version; they can make this one super-duper concise and just run a pamphlet titled "2004 to 2024-- More of the Same...With Internet!".

This site is called Much to My Delight because I work really hard to always look for the good, but in all honesty, the state of the world often leaves me bereft. As a city dweller I can't simply run into the woods when things feel this heavy. As an alternative, I spend an awful lot of time in Central Park.  

I do so many things there. I walk. I meditate. I catch up with friends. I read. I lay in the grass. I drag my husband. Sometimes I simply lean back on a park bench, take a deep breath and ask the stranger next to me, "Have the lambs stopped screaming?"

I love Central Park for its gorgeous architecture and quiet natural beauty, but mostly I go to remind myself that people aren't always terrible. Central Park is the sweetest, most wholesome place I've ever been and that's saying a lot for a green rectangle in the middle of the wackiest city in the world.

I spent six hours in and out of the park one recent Saturday. For over an hour, I balanced myself on the lip of Bethesda Fountain--no book, no headphones, no scrolling--I just sat and watched the world go by. I watched dogs splash in the fountain and little kids pointing at the ducks and boats in the The Lake. I saw babies perched on papas' shoulders and elderly couples clutching hands. I watched merry brides and poreless 15-year-olds gather ballooning hemlines as they posed for wedding and quinceañera photos in twinkling dresses shaped like cupcakes. A singer performed a mediocre rendition of the Bee Gee's criminally underrated "How Deep is Your Love?" while a couple slow-danced in the middle of a swiftly moving crowd. I smiled at their affection and tenderness, then the woman pulled away to reveal a  pregnant belly and suddenly I was wiping tears thinking of the memory they just created.  

It almost doesn't seem possible, but I've only witnessed the best of life in that park. Picnics, symphony concerts, swing dancing, roller skating, drum circles, kids' birthday parties, families bicycling on a sunny day. People seem to be at their best there-- relaxed, open, friendly, patient. Spending time there each weekend centers me for the week ahead. It doesn't erase anything bad but it sure helps me notice all the world's good. I was there for the marathon yesterday and, as per usual, my heart exploded from the sense of shared humanity. I kinda wish it were held after the election because that's when we'll really need some loving energy.

What is my point exactly? Honestly, bro--I'm not sure. The brain fog caught me halfway through writing this thing and I'm not certain what point I'm attempting to drive home anymore. I don't know -- maybe it's this. If you are one of the privileged people in this world who has access to a place that feels peaceful, spend more time there. Look around, talk to someone you don't know and try to observe kind and decent behaviors in action. 

I'll share one of my recent observations as an example.

I was exiting a karaoke bar in Koreatown two weeks ago when two guys on the sidewalk began to share what are colloquially referred to as "fightin' words'. They started puffing up their chests as only guys hanging out on a sidewalk do. Things started to get more serious as my friends and I began to approach. I wondered if I'd need to duck if a punch got thrown. 

But then the guy responsible for much of the provocation took notice of us and retreated from the other man's face.

"Hold up man, this group needs to get through. I'ma let 'em pass." 

We mind our business and shuffle through quickly. Once safely past them I hear the same man yell, "Okay now, show me you're not a pussy!" I found his treatment of us very considerate.

Good people are still out there, friends. Take a minute to notice. Find your silver lining, peel it, and plop it on your heart, right by your I Voted sticker.

About Damn Time

I love almost everything about living in New York. The only bummers are: street noise, rats on subway tracks and the fact that I haven't been able to fit a tall bottle of olive oil in a kitchen cabinet since 1999. Like I said, I love almost everything about living here. 

The thing I like least about New York is its distance from my family.

I've taken two trips to Texas every year for the past 25. Not bad, not great. I've also made successful efforts to lull my parents, niece and aunt to my home in Astoria. My brother has literally never been to New York before. I could live in Yonkers for all he knows.

I saw a video earlier this year that quickly put this into harsh perspective. Please watch if you haven't already. I'll wait. See you in 30 seconds.

My parents are only 73 and in pretty good shape, but they've both had cancer in the past six years. I don't spend excessive time thinking about how many years I have left with them but I also know time's not something to waste, and if I want to do certain things with my parents-- like travel-- we need to get moving. I'm also aware of my own aging. In a few years I'll enter my 50s. Will I still want to hike through Zion? Will I be able to climb the stairs in Dubrovnik without a heart incident? Will a seat in economy immediately send me back to acupuncture?

And that's how I've ended up planning three family trips in a span of six months. Daylight's burnin'! 

In September, Vin and I took my mother to Italy for her birthday. She'd never been to Europe and I really wanted to see her get there. And frankly, in my own anxiety about not wasting time, we did entirely too much. Rented too many cars, covered too many towns, packed in more sights than we could slowly, truly appreciate. This trip taught me some important lessons about acceptance.

Two weeks later, we drove to New Hampshire to meet my father, his wife and her father. Let me explain.

In April, on one of my bi-annual Houston visits, my father's wife Angie told me that seeing fall foliage in New England was on her father's bucket list. I asked how long they'd talked about taking this trip together and when she said TWENTY YEARS my eyes went wide and my body started twitching.

She left to play pickleball, likely forgetting all about our conversation.

By the time she'd returned I'd fleshed out an October itinerary that included New Hampshire and Vermont, complete with scenic train routes and cozy camp-themed restaurants. The idea of time continuing to pass without them biting the bullet and taking this trip together made me sad and uncomfortable, and I wanted to make it easier for them to get started so I projected my anxiety all over them. I also invited myself. Then I coerced them into planning another trip with us next spring.

I'd say I'm about 85% thoughtful, 10% people pleaser and 5% control freak, though I reserve the right to switch these proportions around at any time thank youuuuuuuuu. 

This profound awareness of time passing causes me some stress, but mostly works in my favor. If I set a big goal, I almost always reach it. Once I decide I want to do something, I rarely sit on it. I make stuff happen. It helps me professionally as a therapist too. When someone tells me they have a goal they want to reach you better believe I am invested. 

Please note that this trait only applies to big juicy goals with large pay-offs. It unfortunately disappears in the context of daily grinds and small projects that could be completed in less than 30 minutes, like hanging up art or sweeping the sidewalk so we don't get ticketed. My "owe this person a phone call" list is 20 deep and if you're reading this you're probably on it. It's probably time for me to chill on the big stuff and start tackling the everyday tasks.

Still, I know I'll reach true enlightenment when I accept that I won't get it all done. The more I scratch off my bucket list, the more energy it generates and the longer it grows. Once I complete a load of laundry I need to do it again the minute I take off my socks. My to-do list will never be swiped clean. I am going to leave this life with unfinished business. I won't do everything I dream about doing.

But I'm sure gonna try.

Now... what items on your bucket list have you been sitting on and how can I harass you into getting started?!