Dearest Gentle Reader, I’m 47. Some of you are sipping your coffee thinking—oh to be that young again. Others might be thinking—oh wow. Yeah…okay. I see it in your eyes. And still others are thinking– me too. I’m 47. There are amazing things about the age. Then there’s hormonal BS. No age comes without something. If I had to give it a percentage, I’d say 88% about being my age is good stuff. I’ve published four books in seven years with beautiful small press publishers.  That feels good. I have a  strong marriage where he makes me laugh harder than anyone. Two healthy and happy (sometimes grumpy) kids. I’m a grad student in Museum Studies while substitute teaching at a magical performing arts high school where my own teen attends. I stopped biting my nails. I sleep well. Life is not too shabby. I’m paying attention more than ever, therefore, I am breaking my rule and writing my “essay” for the  newsletter. Stay tuned for more fantastic guest writers after this one. Thank you for reading. It’s very appreciated. My observations at 47: Health over vanity: It’s time to lift weights and avoid white flour. It’s time to channel my inner athlete again. It’s not so much about my waist anymore as much as it is about my cardiovascular health and cholesterol levels (thanks genetics, but again, could be worse). It’s taking much longer to see results, but I’d like to live into my 90s, so it’s worth it. I think. Extensive cardio is no longer the answer for those of you who had major crushes on NKOTB or if you were a weirdo like me, DANNY from Fame, the TV Show. Nature: It’s spectacular. I walk around my backyard barefoot in the summer with my coffee mug before the sun rises and remember how connected I am to the grass and the trees. the sky, and my hydrangeas. I am not sure I’ve ever been so connected except for at ten years old on Mulberry Place. in the evenings I admire the gorgeous floral gifts that the previous owner planted…and continue to thrive. Thank you Randi. Saying No Gently: I don’t overdo the giving anymore when my bucket feels empty. I feed a lot of teenagers and fourth graders, and sometimes adults. It’s often not reciprocated, so when I feel empty, I say… no. (I relish being THE house for the kids with no returned hospitality expected). If I’ve helped out and volunteered and donated and created (which I love to do) but if I feel my battery depleting, I say no to new requests. I direct my energy into  TEC (shout out) or making plucky hearts for Trevor Project or editing others’ essay collections. Good feelings in the heart and spirit. We all have the things that ignite those fires and feel easy. Like we’re put here on Earth for it. I like to imagine that when we were mere cells, these droppings and sprinkles of passions were placed carefully into our bloodstream by some higher force. Like a cake recipe, but human molecules. The Power of a Good Book: This is no secret that books are superior companions. Currently, I am enjoying a most delightful genre called Vintage Crime. The series is called Shady Hollow Mysteries in which animals are the main characters–fox detectives, raven bookshop owners, moose pub owners, etc., and it’s not nearly as childlike as one might assume. I was drawn to the covers, and now I cannot get enough of the language and beautiful writing: book one.  Friendships and how they make you feel at a physical level: If my spirit/body/mind feels good with certain people, I lean towards them. When others feel confusing and seem to be hesitant even after years of knowing one another, I back off. If I’m chasing, I stop. I listen to what’s happening. If it’s flowing naturally, I step all the way  into it and water it. I used to think “oh it’s fine if I am always the initiator.” But now…my gut says life’s too short to be the chasing lady I used to be.  And what do I mean by that? Always the planner, reacher-outer, making-it-happener–I think people unknowingly fall into habits and precedents are set, rather than thinking about how they can change a little to avoid getting too comfy in the habits that make a relationship one-sided. We all can change a little if we truly love. If it’s mutual, it flows naturally and it’s a beautiful thing. I’m still healing from some serious friendship loss in 2021. I cry often and have no shame about the tears anymore. I wake up every day open to being loved for who I am now. I consider the tears a cleanse that make room for growth every time. Theragun: Thank you my friend who recommended it. The knot in my left shoulder thanks you. A good night’s sleep: enough said. A good poop: you all know. (Yes you do!) Moisturizer: I like my face and I would like it to maintain its Mediterranean tendencies. Thank you, mommy, for great genes. A good moisturizer is not to be skipped. Saying the words: Tell people you care. Tell them you love.  BE weird about it sometimes. My lipsticks: still so fun. I love a good coffee-brown. Bridgerton: what a delicious Netflix series! I love giving people a voice, so if you’d like to be a guest essayist, simply email me at elainaparsons77@gmail.com. Tell me your observations at your age. Love, Elaina