Dana Bowman Creative

“You’re too old and too uncool” – and other lies we tell ourselves.

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(This post was shared with you from Momsieblog)

So… Are you done at 51?

This question, in all it’s poetic glory, surfaced in our newpodcast today. We were talking about what it’s like to be fifty. To feel a bit invisible. To wonder about whether our synapses can still accept new information.

SPOILER ALERT: HECK NO YOU ARE NOT DONE.

You are not done at 51 even if:

  1. You feel tired. Listen. We’re all tired. The entire world is tired. It’s ok.
  2. You feel invisible. As stated above, it’s a thing. You turn 50 and then you become non existent. You give up and start wearing skorts. But invisibility is a wonderful thing at times. Just ask Harry Potter.
  3. You are a weensy teensy bit menopausal. Ok, this one is just for me, but you know. If you are a uterus person and you are of a certain age, it’s gonna happen. There are pros and cons. I don’t have time to cover them all here but I will say this: Those cooling mattress pad thingies that cost crackamillion dollars on the amazons? BUY THEM. DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT. JUST GO.
  4. You are constantly reminded by your eleven year old spawn that you are: “The like oldest mom in my class! Even older than my teacher! By like a lot! We talked about it and made a chart and yep you are IT!”

All of these things are things that happen at 50. They especially tend to happen if you are:

  • female
  • silver-haired (which sounds weird but go here. You’ll see).
  • A bit late in the baby-birthing game so you are in that weird limbo of totally menopausal but also still stuck talking about minecraft all the time
  • any combination of the above but the female thing is kinda crucial

I’m not one to brag* but lately? I have started a podcast, figured out co-hosting, not completely made my co-host mad at me not even once, and also managed to keep my kids off screens 30% of the time for the first two weeks of summer.

CLEARLY I AM THE BOSS.

If you are feeling kinda… done? At 51? Or 21? or whenever-one?

You’re not. It’s just not a thing. I realize that mullets are a thing, and mom jeans are a thing now, and yes, Bennifer has become, yet again, a THING.

But: BEING DONE IS JUST NOT A THING.

So. Carry on, mommas.

PSA: Naps are a thing though. #priorities

*not exactly the truth.

Purpose. And styrofoam.

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Friends. I’m gonna come clean.

I am addicted to storing cardboard boxes in my basement.

So… let’s set the scene, shall we?

My family, last Christmas: Gleefully unwrapping way too many presents because it’s a pandemic and I wanted to buy their happiness.

Me, last Christmas: Sitting in a corner, lovingly stroking an amazon.com box muttering “my preshus” to it while the dog looked on with concern.

There have been repeated box interventions on the husband’s part. They usually consist of him going down to the basement to work out and then shouting at me, while kicking boxes all over. Phrases are used that are clearly anti-cardboard box, and a bit anti-wife as well if I’m being completely honest. He then lugs a bunch of them out to recycling, but I just sneak more down there when a fresh order from amazon arrives.

And so, the circle of life continues.

Here are a few other items that I can’t seem to stop piling up in the basement:

  1. Broken lampshades. You never know when you’re gonna need a wonky lampshade that leans to one side.
  2. Paint cans with one inch of dried paint in the bottom. You never will need them, but it’s important they stay there for forty bajillion years.
  3. Rugs that your dog chewed on but somehow might come in handy somewhere because you paid a lot for that ###@ rug and so it must remain. THERE WILL BE A USE FOR IT I JUST KNOW IT.
  4. Dead crickets.
  5. Massive chunks of styrofoam from random appliances we bought. Once, when the boys were little these would come in handy for building twains. We would grab a box (And repeat after me: YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU’RE GONNA NEED A GOOD BOX) from the basement, and festoon it with styrofoam smokestacks and wheels, and voila. Childhood just became more adorable.

Don’t believe me?

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you… My (badly focused) children.

In a box:

You’re welcome.

Ok, granted, this looks like there is some sort of fireman theme, but you get the drift.

And, sidenote: this picture completely sums up both boys.

Kid on left: Studious. Focused. This is a serious box.

Kid on right: Nutball.

Fast forward to today. There are still a lot of boxes down in my basement. 2020 happened and we threw our credit cards and online ordering at it. This morning had me staring at a computer screen because I had just finished a large-ish project, and I couldn’t focus. After one project is done, it seems I am a bit… adrift after. So, this morning, I felt glum. My purpose had been all poured into one thing and now that thing was all over. The strength and energy needed to redirect the brain and creativity of Dana to the New Thing was stalled out.

And that’s when I spied an email from the boys’ teacher. A STEM project was in need of… RANDOM BITS OF STYROFOAM.

HARK!

When in doubt, help others. Which in this case meant grabbing this mess from my basement (cat not included):

holy cow my baseboards are dirty.

Why yes, it was all packed up and ready to go. It had been our train box. We hadn’t touched it since the boys were little and cute and said “twains” instead of “trains.” And I must admit that as I loaded it up into the car, I felt a little sad. But now it had a Purpose again.

The moral of the story:

When stuck, help someone else. It shook the cobwebs off for me, and now I’m on to another thing.

And also: You really, really never know when you’re gonna need a good box. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.

Jim’s story, songwriting, and 70’s tuxedos.

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Ok, so on our latest Neighborgood episode, my cousin was the storyteller.

I do realize this kind of sounds like that thing where you only hire your family to be a part of your Big Thing… but listen. The Neighborgood is not a Big Thing. Not yet, anyhow. And Jim is cool.

Also, I’m really trying to get my dad on the show too. He’s cool too. It’s my podcast. I can do what I want.

Anyhow. Jim’s story is about how he got Covid.. and how he had Covid-guilt (it’s a thing). And how he is now. And if you want to hear more, go listen. This post is about this:

Well, not really, but I really cannot seem to avoid posting this picture of Jim in his prom tux in as many places as possible.

What this post is REALLY about, in spite of all the 70’s goodness, is songwriting.

Jim is a lot of things. He’s a pastor at a church. He’s an expert of the enneagram. He used to be a science teacher. He’s an artist. And he is a musician. And so is his son, Daniel.

There is lot of creativity going on with this family. Like… a LOT. And I am grateful for it.

My family is creative. My mom is a painter (she would say she “was” but in my book, once a painter, always a painter.) Also my dad? He has the ability to fix almost anything with stray baling wire. That’s creative, folks. My sister, Jenni? She paints. She decorates cakes. She also sends me snapchats on a regular basis of her pug, Arya, doing something cute to disco music. See? More creativity.

My sister Sherry? The best ideas ever for engaging little kids (Sensory tables! Cookie decorating contests! Endless patience!) And she quilts. I have one of her creations on my bed and am glad that she is the quilter in the family because: Warmth, but beautiful.

My brother? Don’t get me started. He used to do radio shows -recorded on a cassette player of the olden days that looks like this:

Yes kids. This did work.

He basically did a one-man comedy show that was actually funny. Sometimes he would invite us as guests, Jenni and I. We would ruin it. His humor lit up a room.

And then there’s me. The youngest one in the bunch. I write things. And now, I podcast things. I have to, because if I don’t I feel like something is missing.

And lately, I have really come to appreciate this whole creativity thing. It seems more important now, as I get older. And 2020. And sadness.

Creativity saves us all.

It’s songwriting, for the soul.

And lest you think that’s cheesy, just remember this: The first thing that we know about God is that He created things. And no, I am not comparing myself to God. Not even.

I’m just saying: God created us. We create things. It’s the formula. Or we wither.

And… Here are some of Jim’s paintings. They are lovely:

look at the sky

And finally,

#nobodyframesspreadsheets:

New episode alert!

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Subscribe to The Neighborgood!

Friends, we have a new episode today at The Neighborgood!

This week’s guest at the #frontporchpod is Chad. A lawyer. A really smart guy. And possibly the nicest person I’ve ever not-met-in-person-but-really-hope-to-one-day.

Chad lives in London, and we talk about Covid and his job search, the bar exam (or the British version), and, well… loooooooove.

He’s doing lawyer stuff here. Or he’s at a wedding. Either way.

And then of course Dana segues and makes it all about HER and HER love life because it’s my and I can if I want to.

And we also discuss my husband’s very iffy wardrobe choices:

I think it’s safe to say this is NOT CHAD.

Take a listen!

The Neighborgood Podcast

Also, stay tuned for Friday’s Facebook LIVE on MY FRONT PORCH! We’ll be giving away fabulous merch for some lucky winners who have subscribed and reviewed!

Remember: #storywillsaveus

Start a podcast they said. It’ll be easy they said.

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Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash
This is not actually me or my office. This is a stunt podcaster and her stunt office.

Back in the day I just used to write stuff.

But now I’ve basically turned into Steven Spielberg.

Here’s how that happened: I was at a writer’s conference back in the days of long ago when things like that happened, and I figured… Hey I should start a podcast.

Did I know exactly WHAT my pod would be about? No. Of course not. I just figured people would like the sound of my voice.

I realized, pretty soon, that the sound of my voice is really annoying in a sort of tired Minnie Mouse kind of way. Minnie Mouse who has sort of given up and wears sweats a lot and leans on things and says things like, “It is what it is.” That kinda vibe.

But I kept going. First of all, I decided on a topic because otherwise it’s sort of like getting your car keys, going out to your car and then saying “Tally ho!” and heading off a cliff. Figuratively. Not literally. No cliffs in my real life.

Topic: Creativity and Recovery. Done. Easy Peasy Podcast Squeezy.

So NOW all I have to do is… I decided to um… What I need to do next is… well this is where it gets kinda tricky.

“Kinda tricky” = MAJOR UNDERSTATEMENT. HOLY COW.

So, podcasts. *sits down and clasps hands and takes a deep breath then slowly slides off chair onto the floor into a puddle*

Um. Here’s this list:

publishing platforms, recording devices, audacity? garageband? big mics that cost 300$? we transfer, earbuds no, stealing headphones from my boys, ok I’ll buy real headphones, somehow i also ended up with a ring light which makes me glowy and ethereal so i’m here for it, there’s a weird ticking noise on my recording, my voice now has an echo like i’m in a well, i’m actually in a well or despair, graphics i need graphics, how DO i get the @##$$ loop thing to turn off i don’t want to repeat myself anymore than I already do, how DO i get the @##$$ loop thing to turn off i don’t want to repeat myself anymore than I already do, i do actually need to feed my children in here somehow, the dogs get really excited when i turn the mic thingie on, the mic thingie is on but I can’t hear myself, mailchimp is the devil, libsyn or podbean or buzzsprout oh my, music intros, music outtros, what is an outro and how do you spell it, wordpress, youtube tutorials, so many tutorials, itunes, spotify, skitcher, more tutorials, and I got vaccinated and was completely sick for two days so i forgot how to do any of this and had to go back and rewatch all the tutorials.

Deep breath.

The work continues my friends. Pie and Coffee is being recorded and yes miracles do happen. And now I’m off to watch another tutorial. This one is about how to help your cat Steve lose weight, but still.

I want to have Pie and Coffee with you. Here’s why.

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Photo by Lee Cartledge on Unsplash

It’s my mom’s fault.

My mom makes a peaches and cream pie that tastes like the peaches were blessed by Jesus. Like, he’s up in heaven, just fishing with his buddies, and then stops and says, “Hold on. Julie is making a pie. I’ll be right back.” Also, my sister makes the World’s Best Apple Pie because she learned from Julie the Queen of All the Pies. And on and on. *

Ya’ll. I am serious about pie.

But, really, this is a blog about sobriety. And pie. Because together? They go to eleven.

Yes, that is a Spinal Tap reference. If you know, you know.

When I got sober, I met a bunch of old-timers in my recovery group (You might know us; we are at the front of the phone book), and they kept talking about this unicorny thing called “the meeting after the meeting.”

I had two boys under the age of four. Very rarely did I attend a meeting without zipping straight home afterwards because I was secretly convinced the boys would tie up the husband and get a driver’s permit between the two of them, and head for Vegas.

Incidentally, I was learning in recovery about my tendency to over exaggerate just a teensy-tinsy bit. Progress not perfection, folks.

But deep down, I longed for this meeting after the meeting business. As soon as I walked in the door to my group I could take a breath. A deep one. My insides matched my outsides. I felt at home and at peace. It was a pie and coffee situation all up in here. I wanted this feeling to last.

So, here we are. Cue my coffeeshop dreams.

So, why should we meet for Pie and Coffee?

  1. We’re all in recovery from something. Join us at the table.
  2. It’s a safe place. There’s some music and lots of sugar and we can talk without weirdness. Sad and happy stuff. The beginnings and the ends. The middles. The all of it.
  3. You know when you would go out for a bite to eat with your friends and you felt comfortable enough to slide your slice of lemon meringue pie across the table because it was just that good and you just have to share? That’s here.
  4. Lingering is fully accepted and expected. It’s like that Cranberries song, but without the angst.
  5. We savor life and all of its flavors. Yes that sounds cheesy. But, honestly, when I got sober I felt like all of life had more color. More flavor. More… MORE-ness. When I got sober I went in search of the absolute best recipe for strawberry shortcake. Yes, it’s not pie. But the analogy stands. I wanted all the flavors and there was a lot of joy in all that whipped cream.
  6. I have never laughed more than with my sober peeps. Once, at a meeting, I laughed so hard I snorted coffee through my nose. Since it was meeting-coffee, it was tepid, so that saved me and my sinuses. There was a lot of pain still, but it was worth it.
  7. This is the kind of place where folks can lean back and rest. It’s comfy. You wear your elastic pants and a hoodie. Bra optional.
  8. Overtipping happens on the regular here. Generosity. Service. Helping others. That kind of thing. It’s a “pass it on” kinda place. Also, I used to be a waitress and it was the only job where I got fired. I was lousy. I believe overtipping, both in life and figuratively, helps restore the balance. Or something like that. If you are still following me here you are my people.
  9. I don’t think I have ever had better conversations than late at night ones over a hot cup of coffee in a heavy white mug. This is where we listen. We lean in to each other. We share the bill. We say things like, “We need to do this more often,” and we actually mean it.
  10. We share dreams.

Pie and Coffee is a place where I share how creativity saved my life. When I got sober, I faced the void of me (without wine.. who am I?) and then I started, slowly… to fill it. Dreams started slowly unfurling their little ferny leaves, and then they started actually coming true. That’s what accessing whimsy on a daily basis can do, folks.

And, I started diving into research about neuroplasticity, and how my brain really really wants me to get better, every day. Guys, our brains? They are on our side. If they could, they would wear little brain-sized jerseys with our names on it. My brain? It’s rooting for me.

Which leads me back to the most science-y statement I have ever made:

Creativity makes my brain just go better.

I know. I don’t know why I didn’t pursue a career in science-y stuff. Cleary I have the gift.

Ok, so who wants to get Pie and Coffee with me? Join me for lots of talk on recovery, creativity, community, and healing. Also, we will laugh. That is mandatory.

And occasionally, share some really good pie recipes. Like this one. You’re welcome. Or about the time I had to have a pie intervention. It’s true.

*If you haven’t caught on… hyperbole is my jam. Million dollar jam that is the most important jam in history of jam.