A crisp winter morning.  I’m thinking gratitude this morning; grateful for a warm coat, a warm car to drive to a job I really like, the tummy is full, Christmas music playing and silly things like heated seats. So many things to be grateful for in just this little bit of time.  Then some crazy driver, usually driving a way too big pickup truck, almost takes off my bumper, which is difficult when you don’t have a bumper to speak of, zips around to my left, and all of a sudden, all those things I was so grateful for disappear when the nasty attitude pops out and calls this person all kinds of things, questioning this person’s intelligence, emphatically motioning with my hand what the speed limit is supposed to be.  I’m taking it as a personal insult that this person is doing this to ME, when chances are this person isn’t paying any attention to me at all; they’re all about being late to work or getting the kid to school on time.  But it’s my attitude that has made the drastic change, my stomach that’s in a knot, my blood pressure pumping in my ears.  

My pastor always used to say “the older you get, the Izzy-er you get”.  If I remember the story correctly, there was a woman named Izzy with a certain attitude whose attitude increased the older she got.  I’ve always had a temper, always taken things too personally and as much as I try to fight it, I’m becoming older and feeling Izzy-er. 

If I may say, however, I don’t think I’m the only one.  Even those who are some of the kindest, most patient people I’ve ever met are showing some cracks in the façade.  And so many people, including myself, even those who work hard to be professional and show grace are struggling to be nice.  I think, whether we want to admit it or not, the times we live in are contributing to this change and making us all Izzy-er.  

Can we talk about death?  You get to a certain age and you begin to see it all around you.  A friend’s parent, a former student’s husband, a colleague’s spouse, a family member, some within days of the other.  You look at social media and your email with some trepidation, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Despite the fact that I try to avoid mainstream media, when every newscast does nothing but talk about the number of deaths in your community, state and country, you can’t help but be affected by it.  Despite all the things I have to be grateful for, and the faith I profess to have, underneath there is a spirit of fear and insecurity.  And anger.  

I wonder if the “Izzy-ness” comes from the realization that you only have so much time left and there are things left undone.  Do I have the time to do them all?  Have I become the person I was supposed to be? Will I ever be satisfied with who I am and where I am?  I envy those people I see who seem to have found their nirvana, spending quality time with family, reading, creating, and I’m 62, frantically looking for something new to do.  Does being dissatisfied mean you’re ungrateful?  Does being “Izzy” just mean you’re frustrated that you’re still not where or who you’re supposed to be? 

Some of my friends will advise me to continue to focus on the gratitude and my faith, some will encourage me to go for the dreams, some will tell me it may be time to slow down and think about retiring.   And some will challenge me by telling me I’m all talk and no action. So many choices.

A couple of days ago a friend put something on social media about choices, chances and changes.  As I’m in the process of making some choices and making yet more changes, I try to avoid the chances part instead of embracing them.  Maybe embracing those chances would make me less Izzy.  Won’t know until I take a chance and try.