old-ness.

I have mentioned here before my appreciation for the process...of...things. I will not go in to great detail there again. 

That to say, for me, it has always applied to aging as well. 

I have a bag from Korea that says, "Life is Journey."

I love this bag for many reasons. I love that it came from a place I grew, through a process, to love. It was purchased on a wonderful day at a wonderful bookstore while in the company a wonderful friend. But the saying itself, I adore. It's indicative of the Korean culture, and blatantly declares a phrase that tells the truth, and tells it in a way that depicts the beautiful absurdity of life...That a few months out the summer of my twenty-fifth year, I found myself in an Asian country teaching English to lovely Korean children, eating things with tentacles, and getting lost on buses with non-English speaking families. It tells this because whomever made the bag left out the article. Life is "a" journey. Each time I read the phrase, I am reminded of the randomness of my experiences, due to the mistaken use of the English language by my Korean friends. 

And I believe it. Life is journey, which is why I so much appreciate the process of aging. It tells everyone you come in contact with that you have lived through more years, and hopefully...if you have done things right, have more stories to tell. 

I was invited to a "girls night" last week by a spunky and sincere friend that I came to know by making her americano most mornings at Starbucks. (Side note: She once asked me if I was Buddist. I laughed that noticeable, out loud laugh.) The gathering was at her house, and its mission was to celebrate being a woman, with other amazing women. I was stoked to get the invitation, and I was both intrigued and excited to see what the evening would bring. I was not disappointed, and it turned out to be even more wonderful that I had anticipated. But something she said, toward the close of the evening, surprised me. She said she was afraid they would be too old for us...

Absolutely not, I thought. I have much to learn, much wisdom to glean, and also, much to relate to, too (regardless of age!).

I found myself in a room of sisters, and siblings, relating to the stories of childhood, and brotherly torture. I listened to tales of teaching and how the scientific minds have trouble thinking artistically, Thanksgiving dish disasters involving apple cider vinegar and green beens, life-long dreams, and sincere disappointments. I did not feel too young or too fat or too skinny or too anything, I think. I felt grateful to be in a room full of women that weren't about pointing out our differences or pegging our insecurities, but just the opposite. I was thankful to be in a room full of women that had lived, had aged, and that were willing to share aspect of this truth about life with me. 

I received an email from my mom last week. She does that a lot. I have decided that she communicates best via web-based articles. Anytime I have a question, concern, problem? She sends me an article that someone else wrote addressing the issues I hold in question. She wants to share with my valuable financial advice? Internet article. Share with me how she feels about me as a daughter? Yep. The article was about the election, and the fact that the mom and the daughter disagreed as to who would make the next best president of the United States of America...It was from MSNBC, and an excerpt is below:

As for moms, when there’s no understanding their daughter’s political views, it's best to remember that raising an independent woman who thinks for herself is a sign of successful parenting, Kaslow says. Granados admits that she strayed from her own parents’ political views as a teenager. Now she’s sandwiched between her mother and her daughter, two Democrats, and she’s proud of her daughter for being so involved in local campaign efforts and for being so excited.

"We've grown really close this year, and it was because we need each other, we respect each other, even though we disagree," says Granados. "My love for her has nothing to do with our differences; we're family and we're always going to be family."

Granados sighs. "Even if she's in Obama gear head to toe."

My mom went on to point out that what she wanted to say wasn't specifically about our political differences, as they aren't that vast, but it was rather about how thankful she is that she and my father raised an independent daughter. I finished the email, cried, and then I started writing this. Because to me, it all goes back to the journey, and the process of aging. She would not have been able to say that to me sincerely a few years ago. Years pass and we make decisions that shape us into, hopefully, a more true version of ourselves. "Life is Journey", and I am getting older, and consequently, becoming a more independent woman...and in the process, growing closer to the woman that gave me life. 

This will make a daughter cry. It will also make me more appreciative (than ever) of the process of aging.