Month: January 2025

Are they “packing it up?”

Have you heard all the buzz about this brand-new way to bring calm and happiness to your life? It’s called IPP – the Intermittent Pleasure Practice.

Maybe not. I just made it up. But my silly pseudo-science name is based on a real philosophy I have been practicing, and I think I’m on to something.

Dealing with Boring Daily Tasks

Like most of us, I don’t have a live-in cook or maid. So, every day I have a number of repetitive, boring, but necessary tasks that take up precious time.

You know what I mean: emptying the dishwasher, planning for dinner, removing clumps of dog hair, sorting the mail, going through emails, washing and folding laundry, and so on. The daily tasks seem endless, and they can make me cranky.

Creating Intentional Pleasure

So, lately, I’ve been playing with the idea of intentionally sprinkling in some pleasure throughout the day. You would be amazed at how much credentialing paperwork is necessary when you are a psychotherapist.

I’m a knitter, so when I complete a task that is particularly onerous, I reward myself with a few moments of pleasure.

I take out my simple pattern – for IPP there is no room for frustrating challenging patterns – and I knit a few rows. I sit quietly and luxuriate in the stillness.

Knitting a Coral Silk Shawl

My current project is a simple spring shawl that uses bright coral yarn mixed with periwinkle. It’s an ultra-premium silk blend, and it’s even nicer because I found it on the discount shelf of my local knitting store.

The vibrant colors make me believe that spring is coming, even though it’s only January. If my dogs sit beside me, it intensifies the pleasure of being cozy and quiet. If I’m lucky, there’s still a bit of coffee left in my mug.

Connecting with a Part of History

I also like the fact that knitting has a long history of being a woman’s art. It gets me thinking about all the women who came before me, their needles clicking away.

I feel like I’m part of a special legacy. I like to think about their lives, and what they knit. Did they enjoy it as much as I do, or was it more of a necessity to create warm clothes?

Exploring a Creative Frame of Mind

As I work on my project, my thoughts drift around pleasantly. I’m not trying to remember anything or make a mental shopping list. I’m not trying to use my brain. I’m just working with my pretty yarn. There’s a lovely rhythm to knitting that feels hypnotic.

It’s interesting and surprising to me how many creative ideas bubble to the surface. Ideas of guests for my podcast emerge who would not be my typical guests. I get some clarity around what I want to write about, and what I want to create. It’s effortless. It feels light. More like play.

IPP Is Better Than Facebook

IPP, the modern version of the stick and the carrot, is an acknowledgement that life can be relentless, and it’s up to me to find ways to counterbalance the things that drain me.

And if I don’t do this thoughtfully, I find myself mindlessly scrolling through my Facebook feeds. Although that scratches a certain itch, it doesn’t feel deeply pleasurable. It isn’t beautiful, or tactile. I don’t get a sense of peace. In fact, I think it leaves me more restless.

Not Everyone Knits, But…

I wasn’t surprised when I came upon research that demonstrated how handcrafts are very good for our brains and help combat depression and anxiety. But I know that knitting is not for everyone.

Sometimes it’s not even for me when the finished product looks like something a kid made in summer camp and tossed aside. So, you must find your own version of knitting. Your own version of IPP. I think you’ll find it’s worth all the buzz.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

How do you find ways to relax and bring calm and happiness to your life? Are you a knitter or do you enjoy other relaxing handicrafts? Please share your IPP in the comments below.

You ordered a hamburger, but a dumpling arrived! Do you become agitated and angry and send the unwelcome dish back to the kitchen? Not if you’re Shiro Ogumi, a Japanese television producer who decided to transform this experience at a nursing home into an opportunity to raise awareness of dementia.

A Unique Job Requirement

He envisioned, and set about creating, a dining experience that would embrace the cognitive limitations the elderly citizens of Japan were experiencing. What transpired went beyond his initial expectations. Named the Restaurant of Mistaken Orders, the only requirement for employment was dementia!

Learn more at: RESTAURANT OF MISTAKEN ORDERS.

So What, It Tastes Good!

Guests at the pop-up events were charmed by their elderly servers, who surprised them with unexpected behaviors. A server might, after directing diners to their tables, plop down in an empty seat and join them. Or, after placing a glass of water before a patron, the server might reach down for the glass and take a hearty drink.

Instead of being offended by these inconsistencies, patrons joined wholeheartedly in the experience, giggling with delight when an unexpected dish was placed in front of them. Perhaps noodles were ordered, and squid arrived. No worries. The idea is to graciously ‘go with the flow’, to relax and enjoy the experience. As one diner said, “It doesn’t matter if the order is wrong because all the food tastes good.”

Aging Population

With an aging population, it’s estimated that one in five elderly people in Japan will have dementia this year (2025). The US National Institutes of Health estimates that 6.9 million Americans, age 65 and older are currently living with Alzheimer’s dementia. It’s likely these numbers will increase as the nation’s population ages.

Women are more likely to be affected and currently make up more than half of those with Alzheimer’s. More than 55 million people have dementia worldwide so it’s a concern that’s not going away soon.

Restaurant’s Objective

Without a cure, Ogami’s intent was to bring a kinder and more compassionate awareness to the situation by offering a sense of dignity to his workers, and in the process, re-establish their sense of purpose in life. It also provides the social interactions so often denied those with dementia, who are too often isolated and feel neglected. Apparently, the idea is catching on as these pop-up events have spread throughout Japan and now are being held in Australia, South Korea, and the UK.

About 37% of orders turn out to be mistaken but 99% of patrons leave satisfied and happy. The restaurants ring with laughter and happy chatter as all join in on the fun of unanticipated mistakes. The message seems to have been delivered and well received: we are all human with our frailties and limitations and embracing, even celebrating these challenges fosters community and the recognition that we all have something to contribute.

Dementia and Alzheimer’s need not be viewed as a stigma but as part of the ongoing human condition. Seeing the ‘problem’ with fresh eyes is spurring an increased global awareness in the heartwarming power of accepting and including those with dementia.

For more information on how to start a Restaurant of Mistaken Orders and for photos see: mistakenorders.com/en/home.html.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Would you visit a restaurant of mistaken orders? Do you think dementia patients should be given the opportunity to be social in different environments?

Sunday a week ago, I took the labels off a new backpack, highlighted a campus map and laid out a sweatshirt and jeans. I second-guessed my sneakers because my sister’s grandson told us the “S” in the name brand stands for “senior citizen.” Still, they are my most comfortable shoes.

It was bedtime, but I was too nervous to sleep. I picked up my phone and posted in Fabulous Women Over 60: “I did a thing … going back to college … First day tomorrow. Fulltime student at 68. Scared sh**less.” (Crazy laughing emoji.)

A couple good friends questioned my motives. “Wouldn’t it be easier to get some counseling?” “Why in the world would you want to go through that again?” Honestly, that night before bed, I wondered myself. For many years after college, I had bad dreams about not being able to find a classroom or studying the wrong material. I hope I’m not inviting those nightmares back.

First Day Jitters

By morning, dozens of comments followed my post. Holy dopamine! Last check, there were more than six hundred good wishes and two hundred encouraging comments. It felt like starting school with the whole marching band behind me.

I knew my “why” when I walked on campus. I’d been lonely in retirement and unsure of my purpose. Looking around, so much had not changed in 50 years. The clothes are the same – flare jeans and sweats. I’m convinced skinny jeans are passé. It’s time to shop for wider legs. And different shoes, of course.

At the bookstore – full of tempting tech and study supplies – I picked up my pre-ordered texts and a State College of Florida t-shirt. Then, it was off to Student Services where I chatted with a fellow senior citizen in charge of student IDs and parking passes. He pointed me toward the Student Union where I ordered an egg sandwich and coffee from another senior at cafeteria checkout.

Campus Culture

The Student Union is a center hub just like it was at Illinois State half a century ago. Pool balls breaking, cards shuffling, lots of laugher. A smattering of older-than-50 folks dotted the lounge, mostly teachers, I guessed. It’s safe to say I’m not the only big kid who enjoys a learning environment. And I promise you, I’m not the only one wearing the S brand.

When I earned my degree in the 70s, I lugged around a black Royal typewriter. I shouldn’t be surprised now – everyone’s face is in their phone, plus about half of the crowd on campus wears headphones. It’s tricky making eye contact, much less coaxing a smile.

Everything a student needs is in that deck-of-cards-sized computer. I’ll admit, it’s more convenient than the antique Royal. My student dashboard shows all my classes, assignments and grades. It’s impossible not to check it all the time – a disappointment because I want to chill the relationship with my phone.

Facing Fears

My goal is to earn a digital publishing certificate, an update to my earlier B.S. in communications. Yes, they found my moldy transcripts after all this time. In-person classes are going well. My struggle is with online-only classes. I’m that kid staring at the ceiling because I just don’t get it.

I let my fingers do some walking in the campus directory (stored conveniently on my phone). Bingo – there is a walk-in tutoring center open on campus six days a week to help challenged learners like me. My campus counselor is looking into switching me to an in-person class if one is available. The resources are phenomenal.

I’m not the only one who is scared. In Computer Lab, I sit next to a gal from Ukraine who speaks no English. She hopes to become a Disney animator. I only hope to learn my way around the graphics software.

In Creative Writing, we shared our fears. What if I’m not good enough? Is there a way to make money with writing? Do people even read anymore? These are all very legitimate questions for 20-somethings. I wish there was a gentle way to tell them the questions don’t get easier.

Flexing the Learning Muscle

Nearly 20 years ago, as I approached big birthday 5-0, I got the nudge to study for my real estate license. I figured it would be good backup if something happened to my husband. Something happened all right, and my real estate education sustained me through an unexpected divorce in my 60s – certainly easier than waitressing in my 20s to survive divorce number one.

I’m facing 70 in two blinks of an eye. Now that I’ve reached comfortable retirement, I play with a community band that rehearses and performs at the local college where the new digital publishing curriculum beckoned from a bulletin board poster. Retirement seems so open-ended. Maybe there’s more. Maybe there’s not. But I want to be ready if something happens.

You can bet something will.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Have you entertained the thought of going back to college? What would you study? Why haven’t you done something about it?

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